Page 6 of Merry with Me
I bite my tongue to keep from cursing. “Tell Ms. Kincaid she has free rein and can leave me out of it, just like in years past.”
“I’m afraid I’ve left that up to Blakely. This is her project now. If she needs you to assist, well, then that’s what you’ll need to do.”
I can hear in her tone of voice that I’m not getting out of this. “Is Tom in his office?” I ask of the CEO.
“No, but it wouldn’t matter if he were. It’s in your contract that you will serve on a committee for the hospital. You didn’t speak up about which one you wanted, and one was assigned to you. New assignment requests are taken in December for the next fiscal year. Might want to write that date down on your calendar, Dr. Thompson.”
Son of a bitch.
“Fine.”
“Will that be all?”
“Yes,” I grit out. I’m barely holding onto my anger. It’s my fault. I was good with letting Hilary run the show, and she never complained. I was complacent, and this is the outcome.
“Wonderful. I’ll see you soon, then.” The call ends, and I slam the phone back on the base.
Reaching for my cell phone, I put a note on my calendar to repeat every single day of December. “New Committee Assignment” is now an all-day event on my schedule for allthirty-one days of the month. I’m damn sure not going to forget this time.
More than done with this day, I shut down my laptop and leave it. I’m caught up on work for the day. Grabbing my keys from the desk drawer and my cell phone, I rip my coat from the hook on the back of the door and hit the light switch on my way out.
As I reach my car in the faculty parking lot, I hear a muttered curse. I look around, my senses on high alert. That was a woman’s voice, and if she’s in trouble, I need to help. My eyes scan the lot and land on a beautiful woman, kicking the tire of her car. Not just any beautiful woman.
Blakely Kincaid.
“Fuck my life,” I mumble, look up at the quickly darkening sky, and make my way a few rows back to stand next to her. “Need some help?”
“I have a flat.”
“I can change it for you.”
“I know how to change a tire. My dad is a mechanic. He taught me everything I need to know. I suffered through wearing wiener pants to learn,” she rambles.
“Wiener pants?”
“Oh shit.” She covers her face with her hands. “Just ignore me.”
“I think I need to know more.” I smirk. “Why don’t you tell me while I change your tire?”
“I can change it. The issue is, I don’t have a spare.” She glares at me.
“Your dad’s a mechanic. Didn’t he teach you that you should always have a spare?”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, I know. However, I took it out last weekend when I went shopping and forgot to put it back in.”
“Why would you need to take it out to go shopping? It fits snugly in the back of your trunk.”
“In case I needed the extra space. I went shopping with my best friend for Christmas decorations for my office.”
“Christmas decorations pulled rank over a spare tire that you might need for you to get home safely?”
“When you say it like that, it was stupid. My dad is going to be pissed.” She bites her bottom lip as she glances down at her phone. Her eyes are starting to get wet, and I don’t do tears. I hate tears from a woman almost as much as I hate the holidays.
“Where do you live?”
“About ten minutes away at the new apartment complex.” She lifts her head, and the worry on her face is like a knife to the chest. I don’t understand why, but I feel like I have to fix this for her. Besides, I can’t just leave her here in the dark, cold parking lot all alone.
“Your spare tire is at your place?”