Finding Me in the Storm (Sweet Christmas Kisses)

Chapter Fourteen

Nate

“You need help, boss?” the girl behind the desk asks from behind me.

I’m bent in half, rummaging through the lost and found drawer. The things people forget can be quite interesting, and the fact they come back frequently for items that appear to have no intrinsic value keeps this drawer in existence. Today, that might serve me well.

“Ah ha,” I call out as I stand up tall, holding the brochure I sought in my left hand.

“A brochure?” the young lady asks.

“Exactly,” I tell her sweetly as I move around her toward the business office, where I know I will find Elaina.

She is mere hours from the deadline to let New Edge Specialty Medicine know her choice. I’m not positive she will be happy in that role. Elaina is already riddled with misgivings, and she hasn’t even started the role. I, of course, realize that telling her what to do absolutely won’t fly, so I’m a listening ear and keep all other statements to myself—despite how hard that is turning out to be.

“I brought you a present,” I tell Elaina as I find her typing away at a computer.

I place the brochure down and notice her face go pale.

“That is not playing fair,” she tells me as she turns slightly so our eyes can connect. “I’ve told you that the program is amazing. I did investigate it when I was first starting residency and thought I might do a couple of tours with the group. Unfortunately, you can’t get a lot of employers to give you time away to work for someone else.”

“Right, but at the moment, you don’t work for anyone. The entire world is your oyster, and you are the captain of your ship,” I remark.

“Okay, so now we are going with kitschy slogans to help you talk me out of my choice?” she questions.

My heart rate plummets, and I can feel tension slide along my skin. Goosebumps rise, and my stomach does a strange flip-flop.

She has made a decision, it sounds like, but I hesitate to ask for confirmation. For just this moment, Elaina is still here with me, and I have a shot. The second I know the direction she chosen—all this time together ends. She will be going home to her gilded castle helping patients in droves, sacrificing her social life until she has again paid unspoken dues and a newer doctor is hired.

“Explain how Doctors Without Borders is worse than this clinic, and not just the money,” I demand.

“It is dangerous for one thing. I know that the likelihood of being hurt, maimed, killed, or kidnapped in one of the locations where organization operate—versus Chicago, is at least a hundred percent more likely. Also, travel means that no matter what little connections I have, I might lose interest in keeping a long-distance friendship or romantic partnership. The medical cases are also a bit out of date from what we see in clinics due to vaccination availability.”

“Okay, all sound lists of differences in the programs,” I lightly prod. “Still doesn’t explain your total vetoing of the idea before even exploring it a bit more. I know that your parents might not approve, but if you chose something less than a lucrative high six figure job—will they disown you?”

“No, but if you have ever seen my mother’s disappointed face—you would avoid it at all costs.”

“Okay, listen here,” I start as I move to the chair next to Elaina. “Can you imagine how my parents felt when I told them I was blowing off college and moving to New York to model?”

I can see Elaina going through the various scenarios in her head. She probably has little idea how truly terrified I had been at that moment, so many years in the rearview.

“Was it bad?”

“They ordered me to undergo a psyche evaluation,” I reveal. “I’m not even sure that Luna knows that. I was sworn to secrecy, but they wanted to be sure I wasn’t having a mental health crisis. Modeling was that foreign to them. Mom talked about how models have shelf lives and without an education, what would I have after the contracts all dried up.”

“A ski resort,” Elaina responds. “Bet they didn’t see that coming either.”

“They definitely didn’t. In the end, when the psychologist told them I was fit as a fiddle, they did relent a bit. I didn’t believe it until the money was coming in, and maybe even after I bought this place, they fully understood. Luna did, though,” I admit. “I do wonder if she had seen the struggle in you in these recent years.”

“Most definitely,” Elaina tells me. “She would often try to get me to date, try new outings, or just leave the office earlier. It never worked, and I can imagine that part of this little setup of the cabin was an attempt to shock me into trying new things.”

“And it worked,” I tell her. “Maybe Doctors Without Borders is something new in your career that you need to give yourself a shot. You need to feel that this is a calling, or at the very least, what you need to be doing because it makes you happy. Signing a contract that has the kind of clauses theirs does is not a good idea with even a sliver of doubt left—as it will cost to break the agreement without stiff financial ramifications to you.”

“Oh, I’ve read that section of the contract over and over. I have to admit that might be the biggest part of my hesitation. Besides, traveling with Doctors Without Borders would finally give me the shot to see some places,” she confesses.

“Maybe you and I can even do a little travel—with Luna, of course,” I add, not wishing to make it weird between us.

Her eyes meet mine in a surprised expression. I feel the tug toward her. I wasn’t kidding. I would give anything to be able to spend time exploring the world’s different sites with this lady. She would make sure that life was never boring, and I would work to make her laugh every day.

“I would like that,” she says. “Of course, it would need to be during your slow season here. What would the resort do without its main attraction?”

“Figure it out without me,” I grumble. “Seriously though, you give it some thought,” I tell her, moving my eyes to the brochure. “You get one shot at this before you are stuck for a while. Make it count.”

“I will,” she says as I stand to go.

Elaina hijacks my progress with a hand on my lower arm. I turn to her once again.

“Thank you. I know we might not have always gotten along, but you have no idea what your support, advice, and even crazy ideas have meant to me during my time here.”

“Any time,” I tell her around the big knot of emotions causing my throat to tighten and my eyes to become scratchy.

I need space, and finally, when in the hall, I can take a breath. I need to be strong and pray she makes the right decision for her in the end. Even if that choice is going to kill me, I won’t stand in the way. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to spend every second wishing we might find a way to keep her here, though kidnapping and locking in the cabin seems like a felony more than a romantic gesture.

She needs to figure this out on her own, and I’m going to keep biting my tongue until she does. Even if she gives puppy dog eyes that makes me want to wrap my arms around her, kissing her senselessly and never letting go.