Taking Jana (Paradise South #2) (12 page)

CHAPTER 17

H
e opened the
door for her, and as she slid into the backseat of the limo, he heard her let out a huge sigh.

Then Tony handed her a cup of coffee on a tray, complete with creamers and an assortment of sweeteners, a stir stick, and napkins.

She looked surprised. “Uh, thank you,” she said, but only put the tray aside. “I actually just had a cup, and I’m already too jittery,” she explained. “But really, thanks.”

He reached for it back. “No problem. I knew your day would be a long one.” He smiled, remembering his mother’s time in the hospital. And she hadn’t lasted more than a day. Those had been the longest hours, minutes, and seconds of his life.

Change of subject needed…for his own mind’s sake. Breaking the ice should be easy. She was awake now, and more of the same light conversation from their morning ride couldn’t hurt.

“How’s your father?”

“An asshole.”

Okay. Maybe not the lightest topic. He waited a beat. But she said nothing else on the matter.

“Do you need me to stop for you to grab dinner?”

“Thanks, but no. That’s why I’m meeting Johnnie early. For dinner, before the club gets busy.”

Dinner with Johnnie,
right.

Light conversation might be out. That was fine. She didn’t owe him her attention. He simply hoped to help lighten her mood. It couldn’t be easy juggling it all.

But what about the ‘consulting’ title? Johnnie’s words still nagged at his brain, cracking him up a bit and bothering him at the same time. Hell, he’d driven enough dancers to know they were brashly proud, almost
in-your
-face about what they did for a living, justifying it to anyone and their mother. Making ends meet by using their
God-given
assets was not something to hide, according to any he’d met.

“So…question, then I’ll let you be,” he said, smiling, trying to make eye contact in the rearview. “Johnnie called you his ‘consultant.’ Is that the new P.C. term for dancers these days?” he asked with a slight smile.

But his passenger only glared back at him, her head now cocked to the side. Palpable moments of harsh silence followed.

Then she spoke. “I’m
hiring
and
training
dancers for Johnnie—temporarily. But no, I am
not
a dancer.” Her defensive tone sent chills up his spine. She then reached for her phone, ending the topic all at once.

So, she wasn’t a dancer; she was a nurse and, temporarily, a ‘hiring and training consultant’ of dancers.
And none of it is any of my damn business.
He got it.

Her cell phone went up to her ear, so he started to put the privacy window up. A natural step after obviously offending her anyway.

“Please, keep it down,” she said through the
half-open
partition. “I get carsick and need to see the road ahead.”

At least, she’d asked nicely. He brought the center window back down. He could have uttered an apology then, but she was already on her call.

He had definitely and unintentionally ruffled her feathers with the stripper insinuation, and the entire interaction made her that much more intriguing.

*

A coffee from the driver—declined, but it was a nice gesture.

She really needed to focus, not get more wound up. She started preparing her mind for stepping into The Wet Spot again, to be called ‘Winter’ again, and being surrounded by catty strippers again, girls who she needed respect from, like, right away.

But then Tony started talking, giving her a slight eyebrow raise in the rearview. She smiled politely but continued with her thoughts, gathering up her courage, readying herself to see Johnnie again. But then her ears perked up.

Something about her being a ‘consultant’—she knew that was coming—and that being the “new term” used for “stripper”? Oh, because she automatically had to
be
a stripper? And, it was any of his business? Fuck that, no she wasn’t a stripper. In fact, she never had
been
a stripper. She’d
stripped
, but she’d never
become
a goddamn
stripper
.

And, who the fuck was this judgmental prick anyway? Johnnie said he was a trusted family contact? How goddamn unprofessional, though. He was downright offensive.

But what made it worse, he’d asked it almost innocently, like he didn’t realize how screwed up the comment had been in the first place.

She’d shot back as brief an explanation as her
self-control
would allow, that she was
not
a “dancer”—she wouldn’t even use the word stripper to this dickhead. Then she took out her phone because, fuck him. She’d make the calls she’d been putting off, a convenient escape before she tore this guy a new asshole.

And he could just mind his own damn business and drive.

*

Yes, she’d wanted him to be less servile, but insulting her was not what she’d had in mind. So as the phone rang through to Luly, she decided to simply ignore him for the duration; three months would be nothing.
Right.

And she wouldn’t even mention it or complain about it to Johnnie. Bitching about a gift was just low class. Anyway, dickheads were a dime a dozen. This was a good reminder, actually, of what she should expect and get used to over the next few months at the club, even if she wasn’t going to be on stage, being in the club, she’d be unable to escape the general
asshole-vibe
of it all.

Luly’s cell went to voicemail, so she selected the home number next. God, she wished she could have the privacy window up, but she’d get sick for sure. No, it was fine. She’d speak to her best friend in Spanish. She and Lu did it around Ilana all the time.

And then Tony, the judgmental prick disguised as Mr. Nice Guy, wouldn’t be able to understand her. She knew from Eddie that the Demontes kept fellow Italians on the crew. Their most loyal guys were all named Eddie, Gino, or Tony.

And Jana needed to vent to Luly, to unload the weight. She’d tell her all about the club job and Johnnie, her father, the debt, her dick of a brother, and doormat of a mother, and she didn’t want any of it being overheard and getting back to the club. It was no one’s business but her own.

A thought entered her mind on the fifth ring… Lu would ask how long she’d be gone. Best to omit the truth on that point. She didn’t want Luly to have to lie to their boss, and Jana wasn’t prepared to tell Nora, or even admit to herself really, that she’d be out for three damn months. This charade was hers to shoulder. Luly didn’t need to deal with that shit.

At last, Luly answered. “Hello, Jana?”

Jana almost broke down weeping when she heard her best friend’s voice. But Tony’s judgmental glances in the rearview reignited her raw anger, which helped combat the sappy emotional bullshit welling up in her chest.

But Luly had enough emotion for the both of them. The woman let it all out, blubbering with concern on the other end of the call. Luly pounded Jana with questions, like the usual mother hen that she is. And Jana fielded each and every one—in Spanish. She went over the past days’ happenings, which made everything all the more real. And painful. But she got it all out. After she was done spewing, she actually felt somewhat better. But what felt truly cathartic was that Luly wanted to know. Luly truly gave a damn. Luly was there for her.

And was always watching Jana’s back.

“But what’s this guy’s agenda, Jana? Consulting? It seems too good to be true, you know?”

“I know, Lu, but it’s the only option I’ve got other than to outright dance. And I was ready to. I really was. But this guy offered an alternative, and it fits. Why should I question it? He’s not like the owners and managers I’ve known, Lu. He’s different. He’s
clean-cut
, educated.”

“Even worse, Jana. Sorry, I don’t mean to get all negative, but make sure you aren’t being taken advantage of. You have too huge a heart, and, well…just sayin’, sweetie, to please be careful.”

“Lu, I know. And I will be. Anyway, I had a fabulous reminder of the kind of pricks in and around the business with the damn limo driver only a minute ago—”

“Limo? What limo?”

“Johnnie insisted. He assigned a limo to get me to and from home, the hospital, the club, you know, to save time. For work…” She intentionally left out a detail, the key to the “family’s apartment.” The silence from Luly’s end had already forced Jana to filter. “Anyway, Lu, it won’t take me years this time; just weeks.” Twelve weeks, God willing, no more than twelve.
Fuck
me.

*

She hung up with Luly after an emotionally draining fifteen minutes and now needed to know if she had time to make the dreaded call to her boss. But the scenery outside was unfamiliar. She had no idea how far they were from the club. So she was forced to ask up front, “How much longer?”

“Thirty minutes. There’s a lot of traffic.” Antonio answered politely and succinctly. That would work—short and sweet. Three months of short and sweet. Good.

She looked back at her phone. Thirty minutes…that was enough time to call Nora. But first, she’d check in with her mother quick, because really, she needed to be pushed up against the clock in order to hit her boss’s speed dial button.

She pressed her mom’s number.

In Korean, she told her mother that she’d be back to the hospital by dawn. She imagined it would be a late night, getting acquainted with the dancers and the current dynamics of the club. But she needed to sleep eventually, and she’d decided that instant that for efficiency’s sake, she’d make the armchair her bed again. For now.

She’d also been in too much of a rush to tell her mother that she’d met with the doctor earlier. “Ma, you need to get Daddy on board with everything, get him to change his ways, his habits, his attitude, or he won’t get better. They won’t even move him out of the ICU until he comes around. And Ma, every day in the ICU is costing double. You following, Ma?”

Her mother didn’t respond to her comment, maybe because she was too near her father to be candid. Instead, her mother made sure to comment on how tired she was from working the shop all day and was now on duty at the hospital. Jana ended the call with an endless sigh, which relieved nothing. Nothing at all.

And just so the tension in her gut could ratchet up a few notches, now it was time to call Dr. Nora Lance before reaching Newark. She had no other excuses.

*

She hit Nora’s number. While it rang, she covered her mouth with her hand to try and muffle the upcoming call as her boss only spoke English. She swore she felt the driver’s ears perk up, the nosy bastard.

Dr. Nora Lance answered on the eighth ring.

It killed Jana to explain to her boss that she’d be out for so long. But she shaped the details strategically. Little doses. “For no more than a month at this point,” she said in a numb, robotic tone. Who was she kidding? She was
spoon-feeding
her boss outright lies. But she needed to test the waters, see if any strings could be pulled, and nail down official leave with a position hold. She knew chances weren’t good, though. She’d only been at the MMU Hospital for a little over a year. But Dr. Nora Lance had voiced to her several times how vital Jana had been to the team. She’d pray Nora meant it and could make magic happen.

“You just take care of your family matters, Jana. Let me know if you need any support directly, if you need me to talk to any of his doctors. If they give my top RN any shit, I’ll even come up there. You know I will!”

“I appreciate it, Nora! So much. The cardiologist seems pretty
down-to
-earth and experienced. But I will remember you offered. What I really want, though…just keep my position for me? That’s what I can’t handle losing.” Jana’s voice got shaky then, and there was no way Nora didn’t hear it. So much for professionalism. But damn it, all her shifts and her training, her team, the patients, Ashley, her last charge, they all needed her there. And she needed them.

Her ER was her anchor, and her role there was her identity, her source of pride, her truest and best self. And here she was in a goddamn limo to the strip club she’d lost her metaphorical virginity to a decade ago.

“Jana, sweetie? You still with me?”

“Nora, sorry, yes. I’m right here.”

“I was just saying that you have nothing to worry about. A month we can do. Not that it won’t be damn hard without you! But your spot is saved—I’ll have HR email you to that effect, no sweat. Now, if it were two or three months, I’d have a fight on my hands, but a month is really nothing. You take care of your family, and of yourself, Jana Park! Don’t forget to take care of you!”

Chills sprinted up her spine. Holy hell, she was going to lose her position. She was for sure going to lose her fucking dream job!

Her goddamn parents were—again!—stripping her of her chance, her dream, her purpose, her life as a nurse in one of the most prestigious hospitals in the world.

Breathe, Jana. Breathe. And speak.
She cleared her throat to find her voice. “Thank you, Nora, for being such a support,” Jana said while wiping tears off her cheek she hadn’t even realized were falling.

“Oh, sweetheart. Please don’t cry. It will be okay. Your father will be fine, you’ll be fine.”

She’d be fine? Her sinking heart said otherwise. She had no words. Her new round of weeping was the only audible response possible.

“Hey now. Jana. Listen, you are always in control,
twenty-four
seven. You are brilliant at control in the ER. But you’re not a nurse right now. You’re a daughter. And it’s okay to let it out.”

Damn it, that wasn’t it. She knew she had no control over her life or her fucking asshole family members. ‘Jana the daughter,’ ‘Jana the dancer’––neither of them had ever had control. But ‘Jana the nurse,’ she’d had it all. And she needed to remain ‘Jana, the nurse.’ At her Manhattan ER, dammit! She needed that to be
in-hand
. Solid. “Please Nora, see what you can do about the longest leave of absence possible. Unpaid, of course! Just, I can’t say what my folks will need and for how long, and I
cannot
lose my spot there. Please.”