Fooling Around Read Online Free Page B

silk of one of the chemises. Maybe one day she would wear it for someone. She imagined herself doing so—her daydream self who did exciting things that she never could—but the fantasy faded quickly.
    Her mother was gone. Both of her parents were gone. And she couldn’t even picture herself waking up tomorrow without someone to take care of, much less breaking out and doing something uncharacteristically wild and free.
    Closing the drawer, she returned to the rocking chair and sank into it again.
    She felt so bleak and lonely it paralyzed her. She was trying to talk herself out of it—trying to make herself do something constructive—when her phone rang again.
    This time it was probably her sister, Marie.
    She found enough energy to lift the phone and was surprised to see a number she didn’t know. She didn’t usually answer numbers she didn’t recognize, but she needed something to get her out of this boneless slump. She answered. “Hello?”
    “Is this Julie Nelson?”
    The voice sounded vaguely familiar. “Yes.”
    “This is Eric Vincent.” He paused as if she were supposed to recognize that name.
    “Yes?”
    “I was in the elevator with you earlier.”
    That was why the voice had triggered familiarity. Of course it was him. That big, handsome, arrogant, rude man with the broken leg. “Oh. Hi.”
    “You left the hospital before I could speak to you.”
    “I had things to do. I didn’t think we were sticking around for hugs and kisses.” She wasn’t usually so snarky, but she was tired and his attitude had really bugged her in the elevator.
    “I have a proposition for you.”
    She blinked. Despite their unexpectedness, the words were just like him. No niceties. No small talk. No explanations. No apologies for calling a stranger out of the blue and interrupting her day. Just a blunt declaration, as if he had every right to make it. “A proposition?”
    “Yes. I broke my leg two weeks ago, and I’ll be in a cast for at least three months. This is a problem for me.”
    “I imagine it would be a problem for anyone.”
    “Sure, but I have very little patience with people fussing over me.”
    This didn’t surprise her. She waited for the rest of whatever strange proposition he was about to issue.
    “I need a little help, though, for the next three months, and I need someone who isn’t going to drive me crazy.”
    “And?”
    “And I want you to be that person.”
    She’d been rocking back and forth in the chair, but on these words she froze, tilted forward in the rocker.
    “Did you hear me?” he asked, sounding slightly impatient.
    “Of course I heard you. I just don’t understand what you’re thinking. I told you I’m not a nurse.”
    “I don’t need a nurse. I have nurses. I have a PA who helps me with my normal daily stuff. I need a different kind of assistant for the next three months. Someone who will just help me out with getting around and making me comfortable.”
    “Just how comfortable are you thinking?” she asked, her eyebrows arching as she thought about what this strange, entitled man might be asking her.
    His voice was very dry as he responded, “If I wanted that kind of assistance, I promise I could find it easily—without paying for it.”
    She had no doubt that was true. He was good-looking and gave off that confident, successful vibe. He was probably tripping over women who wanted him romantically, sexually, domestically. “So what exactly are you asking me to do?”
    “Be my assistant for three months. Just handle little things like you did on the elevator. Keep me from going crazy.”
    She tried to think back to what she’d done for him. She couldn’t remember anything, except that she’d given him a bottle of water, since he’d looked so hot, and she’d adjusted his footrest after he’d bumped into the wall. Her mother had used a wheelchair for several weeks after her first stroke, since the paralysis had kept her from walking, and he had looked