When One Night Isn't Enough by Wendy S. Marcus

His blue scrub-covered legs and red rubber clogs entered her peripheral vision. The subtle change in the air gave him away, some type of electrostatic attraction that caused the tiny hairs on her arms to rise and lean in his direction, her heart rate to accelerate and her breath to hitch whenever he found her alone. If there was a vaccine to protect against it, Ali would have opted for a double dose. Women of all ages were susceptible to the man’s charisma. In less than three minutes he’d charmed that little girl right out of her sandal, confirming Ali’s suspicions. Padget had arrived, complimented the pink polish on Molly’s tiny toenails, the delicate gold bracelets on her ankle and wrist, and the princess tattoo on her hand. The three-year-old, blond-haired, blue-eyed terror had tried to bite the triage nurse and kicked at Ali when she’d attempted to expose the girl’s infected big toe.

The chorus of sopranos belting out a private concert in her head came to an abrupt halt when the door opened and chatter from the busy outside hallway overpowered her glee.Īli cringed, keeping her eyes on the patient chart open on the round table in front of her, struggling to maintain focus on her documentation for little Molly Dawkins, her first patient of the night. Jared Padget’s last shift would vanish in seconds.

Then the eight hours and six minutes that remained of Dr. FLOAT nurse Allison Forshay glanced at the clock on the institutional white wall of the staff lounge in the emergency room, wishing she could accelerate time with the snap of her fingers.

When One Night Isn't Enough by Wendy S. Marcus