Please Don't Tell by Elizabeth Adler

Author:Elizabeth Adler [Adler, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

29

Vivi finished her shift ten minutes late, which wasn’t bad going. The rush hour usually kept them busy from five on, people on freeways driving home from work, doing dumb things like texting or phoning or drinking hot coffee and smoking at the same time, no hands on the wheel thank you very much. She thanked heaven she’d missed the later emergency shift when they got the drunks, the gangsters, the homeboys who wanted to rip each other up, gangs of them hanging outside under the eye of security while one of their members got a bullet pulled out of him and a rival gang was given the hook, escorted away from the premises by the police.

Nerves of steel were not part of a doctor’s long and arduous and very tiring training but somehow you grew them, extra little nerve appendages that got you through, cut out everything happening around you except what concerned the patient, the victim, whose blood loss you were going to attempt to stave, or whose earache you were going to diagnose. Emergency room work was not all blood and guts; it was a lot of little kids with broken ankles and babies with high fevers and frazzled young moms with teenagers, grandmas worried about grandpa who’d taken a fall. It was quite simply a slice of real life every single day.

Now, Vivi changed quickly out of the scrubs and the clogs, and into a black long-sleeved boat-neck jersey top, a black cotton skirt which of course was too tight because it was JC’s, but her sister had sworn Vivi looked good in it. “Good enough to eat,” was exactly what JC had said with a wicked grin that had earned her a glare, then a laugh from Vivi. She put on her good black cashmere jacket, slipped on JC’s red platform heels and took a wobbly step. She kind of liked them.

She removed the scrunchie holding back her long brown hair and brushed it smooth, letting it fall across her shoulders. Unfortunately the effect was somewhat marred by the imprint where the scrunchie had held the hair back, but what the heck, a girl could only do what a girl could do. She powdered, dotted a thin black line across her upper eyelids, a little mascara, then Chanel’s Rouge Coco Shine lipstick in Deauville—bought impulsively in Macy’s that morning on the way to work and now she was glad. She really liked it.

Stepping back, she took a look in the half-mirror which was all they supplied them with at the hospital. She thought it would have to do, but wait a minute. A spray of her new perfume, also bought that morning, Tom Ford’s Jasmin Rouge.

JC was meeting her outside and so was Brad Merlin, except the detective was not there. Of course, JC was, though, looking lovely in white jeans and silver flat sandals adorned with what looked like large diamonds and which were totally unsuitable for the weather (her feet must be freezing, but for JC looks always came first) and a little orangy faux-rabbit jacket over a black turtleneck.

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