Hot Bodies Boxed Set: The Complete Vital Signs Erotic Romance Trilogy by Hughes Jill Elaine

Author:Hughes, Jill Elaine [Hughes, Jill Elaine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hackberry Books
Published: 2014-04-05T16:00:00+00:00

As she expected, the hospital administration’s offices were mostly dark and empty at this early hour. But there was a single overhead florescent light burning in the small secretary’s nook that sat in front of the President’s office. A petite, elderly secretary with perfectly coiffed silver hair and an expensive-looking suit sat behind the brightly polished desk, typing a memo. She looked up from her computer screen as Shirley approached and smiled.

“Ah, you must be Shirley Daniels,” the secretary drawled in a voice that dripped of the old South. Her hair was a lacquered lavender helmet, and her wattly blue-veined neck dripped with fine cultured pearls. Back in her youth, this woman was probably the prototypical upper-class Southern belle, complete with ruffles, parasol, and her very own white verandah draped in Spanish moss. She probably went to finishing school instead of college, too, where she learned how to dance the quadrille and the delicate art of holding one’s pinky out while drinking tea. And now she was a hoity-toity executive secretary in a designer suit, probably earning double the salary Shirley did with a graduate degree in nursing.

Shirley disliked her immediately.

“The President’s waitin’ for you, darlin,” the woman drawled, turning back to her memo. “Make sure you’re honest, now. President Chalmers can tell when people lie, honest he can.”

The pit of Shirley’s stomach quivered. There was a sinister edge to the aging Southern belle’s voice. What was that hoity-toity woman implying, anyway? She had no intention of lying. In fact, the whole situation seemed fairly straightforward to her. A routine inquiry into an unexpected OR death, that’s all. This sort of thing was commonplace in hospitals big and small all over the country. Wasn’t it?

Shirley glanced back at the snobby secretary, who was absorbed in typing her memo and no longer acknowledged her presence. She obviously wasn’t going to get any more help there. She took a deep breath for courage and padded into the hospital president’s office, her thick-soled Nurse Mates sinking into the deep plush pile of the office carpeting.

President Chalmers hulked behind a huge mahogany desk, reading a thick medical text. He was a pudgy man with a white beard and an expensive suit, and looked to be in his late sixties. Several framed diplomas and certificates decorated the wood-paneled wall behind him, and a brass nameplate reading “REGINALD CHALMERS, MD, MBA” sat on the edge of the desk. So President Chalmers was also Dr. Chalmers. That was unusual. In Shirley’s experience, doctors and hospital administrators hated each others’ guts. For Chalmers to be walking both sides of that line made him a hard man to read indeed.

President Chalmers didn’t acknowledge Shirley’s presence, so she cleared her throat loudly. Twice. After what seemed like an eternity, the gruff old man looked up. His flinty gray eyes scanned Shirley up and down, up and down again. “Well. You must be the new hire under Beth Peking,” he growled. His Southern drawl was even thicker and more patrician than his polished Steel Magnolia secretary.

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