Centre Spot: Enemies to Lovers Book 4 by Gracie-Mae Harding

Author:Gracie-Mae Harding [Harding, Gracie-Mae]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-03-11T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

James:

For the first time in a long time, Chloe and I finally get a chance to sit down together for a good round of scrabble, her favorite board game. For a kid her age, Chloe has proven to be quite smart. And although she’s mostly usually just playing with the letter tiles and playing words that do not exist, her interest in the game most kids would consider being very boring is flattering.

I watch with pride as she concentrates deeply on the tiles on her rack, wearing a pout that makes her look so much like her mother but a telephone rings soon enough, distracting me.

“I’ll be right back, baby,” I say to an inattentive Chloe, who tucks her hair behind her ear. The cuteness of the scene makes my heart swell as I hurry to pick up the phone before the caller possibly gets frustrated.

“James Reed,” I say into the receiver.

“Hello, James. This is Ruth. The nurse from the hospital. Remember me?” the caller announces in a shrill voice.

“Oh yeah, sure. Hello Ruth. It’s nice to hear from you again,” I reply.

“Yeah, thank you. It’s a pleasure to hear from you too. For a long time, I deliberated on the possibility that you had given me a fake number, and as I dialled it, I expected the worst. So yes, it really is cool to hear from you,” she says cheerily.

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t do that to someone who gave me first-class care when I wasn’t even a direct patient. Of course not. In fact, I think I owe you one,” I profess sincerely.

“Oh no, you don’t,” she replies with a shy chuckle. “The hospital is one body. I was only doing what a good nurse should do.”

“Oh, yes, I do. I should probably treat you to a meal sometime,” I say casually.

“Oh well, since we are talking about treats, I think it’s the best time to announce this. My birthday is on Sunday, and I’ll be having a very small party in my flat in the evening. It’s nothing big, and it’s definitely not going to be in celebrity style, but I’d be glad if you show up. My friends will definitely go over their heads at the sight of you,” she says elatedly.

“Sunday, Sunday–” I repeatedly mouth, trying to remember my plans for Sunday.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I’d love to show up, but my Sunday is occupied. I’ll surely have a present delivered to you, though. Happy birthday in advance,” I say.

“Oh. I understand. It’s fine,” she says with a laugh that I guess is supposed to shade her disappointment.

“You’re going to need my address, though,” she adds quickly.

“What?” I ask, a little confused.

“The present will have to be delivered to my flat, won’t it?” she asks.

“Yes, yes,” I reply, getting her point, “you may send your address to my email.”

I give her my email address, and I then make sure she clarifies it. For some reason, I feel reluctant about sharing my cell phone number with this nurse.

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