2

I chewed my lip anxiously, attempting to prepare myself for the bombardment of questions and soreness from Aunt Maggie when I got home. I could almost hear the indictments now, the, 'why wasn't he in?' or, 'why didn't you just talk to the stand-in guy.' Fearing the worst, per my anxious mind. I pulled onto our street, breaking when I noticed cars parked along the road outside my Aunts house. She never has anyone over without telling me.

To my shock, I was unable to park in the driveway because a nice, smooth black sports car was parked in my spot. I wondered if maybe this was the boyfriend Maggie spoke to the phone the other day. But to whom did these cars belong? Maggie hardly got out; who could she possibly know with expensive-looking vehicles like that?

I shut my car off and collected my things to head inside. I caught someone standing in the window to the living room, observing me get out of my car. I felt a little uneasy that I was being scrutinized on the lawn of my home. I pushed the feeling out as I trekked up the sidewalk, locking my car behind me. I pleated my hair behind my ear as I scaled the steps, shuffling through my keys to get my house key out to unlock the door. As I was getting ready to put the key in the lock, the door opened abruptly. My hair was sucked in front of me from the force of the door being pulled open with abrupt intenseness. I gasped, the unexpected motion and noise causing me to misstep forward slightly, "Holy shit." I caught myself on the doorframe, peering up at Maggie, who appeared startled to see me as I did her. We looked at each other for a moment before she spoke up. "Isabella, you're home early."

She smiled apprehensively as if I had caught her at a bad time. "Yeah, Dr. Maxwell had an emergency and had to leave the office suddenly." I shrugged, bracing myself for the argument that was about to ensue. "They wanted me to see this stand-in consultant, but I just told them that I would wait until he gets back." I elucidated, entering the house. "Who's here?" I questioned, kicking my shoes off by the door and placing my work bag underneath the hallway table. "Oh, just some old friends who came by. They were in town." She giggled nervously as I sauntered into the kitchen. I twisted to glance at her, "Uh, cool." I gave her a once over as I put my ice pack into the freezer. She appeared to be on edge, her hands fidgeting in front of her. My Aunt Maggie wasn't someone I would consider a nervous person, she was always confident, and very sure of herself. She didn't take shit from anyone, especially the cranky old lady next door, Mrs. Henderson. But that's a whole different story. 

"How was work?" She asked, trying to change the subject, clearly not wanting to talk about the two friends of hers that were close by.

"It was crazy, as always. We had a new admission that was terrible. He was vomiting all over and no one else could handle it apart from Gabe and me." I rolled my eyes, "honestly, if you can't handle that stuff, then why become a nurse?" I shook my head as I began to unpack my things.

"Gabe? He still works there? I thought he left." She chuckled nervously.

"He's still there," I rolled my eyes, "he won't leave me alone. He knows that it won't be fun if he does." I quipped, waving my hand at her. I peered into my lunch bag and began to take out my containers to put into the dishwasher. "He was flirting with this new hire, Amber, I think her name is. Anyway, she's awful at her job." I rolled my eyes again, "He was supposed to be training her." I took apart my sandwich container and sat in the top drawer of the dishwasher, "Who's Gabe?" A man asked from behind Maggie. I paused, peeking up at Maggie. She whirled to look behind her at the man who spoke. I gave him a dirty look, "My best friend of 15 years. We went through all of school together, then Nursing school." I was going to say something more, but I stopped when I saw him.

Nearly too tall for our doorframe, the man in the doorway appeared less than impressed by our conversation. He wore a dark shirt that looked way too tight, and dark jeans to match. His jacket was brown leather, probably the only color on his person other than his bright colored eyes gazing at me intensely. His light brown hair was in perfect disarray, his light facial hair making him look edgy but clean at the same time. This man looked way too young to be friends with Maggie.

"Must be a real man." He jeered, "And what do you do all day? Can you stop an artery from bleeding out a 5-year-old? Can you find a small vein in a dehydrated 87-year old woman? No? Didn't think so." I snapped, taken back by his clear stab at my work and my friend Gabe.

"Isabella." Maggie hissed, "Stop."

"What? Does this guy just get to shit all over Gabe? No. I don't care if you're friends with him. You know Gabe." I rolled my eyes and went back to putting my things up, this time aggressively. "Don't talk to him that way, Isabella." She warned, "It's not polite."

"He just gets to come into your house and talk about people that way? Especially one's he knows nothing about?"

"Isabella," another man spoke, "Enough." I felt anger surge through me, "Why don't you shut-" I looked across the counter at the new man who spoke up. It was the man who must have been standing in the window watching me. The man leaning smugly against the doorframe didn't compare to this one. This man was dirty blonde, his hair done neatly on his head, his smokey gray eyes giving me an annoyed stare. His clean-shaven face had the ghost of a five-o'clock shadow. He was tall, and his muscles were taught against his dress shirt. The words I was about to say wouldn't come out, it was like he was making them stop. I narrowed my eyes, "First of all, fuck off, and second of all, who the hell are you people to come into our home and then think you can tell me what to do?" I huffed, throwing my hand in the air. I glared over at Maggie before turning to the sink. "Is this what you do all day? Have orgies with buff men?"

"Isabella!" Maggie gasped, her face flushing red, "Don't say that." Maggie hissed as I tossed my spoon into the sink along with my water bottle. The man who was leaning against the doorframe chuckled at my words, "Enough James." the blonde man warned. "I'm so sorry." Maggie apologized to the men. I rolled my eyes, "That's the one thing you don't have to do for me, Maggie. Apologize for me." I moved past her, and around the man named James. I took off my scrub top, feeling hot for some reason, probably my rising blood pressure. I forgot about my glasses being in my scrub top and watched as the man named James caught them before they could hit the ground. I stared up at him, "How did you do that?" I demanded, startled by his fast movement, "Good reflexes." He held his hand out to me, "Right." I snatched them out of his hand and moved down the hall to the bathroom.

"We need to talk, Isabella," the second man spoke, following me into the hallway. "Why?" I asked, putting my hand on my hip. "I think you should listen, Bella," Maggie spoke standing in the living room doorway. "Why? Why should I listen to these assholes? I haven't been here for 5 minutes and one tried to shit talk my best friend and the other has an ego problem."

"We're here to talk to you about your grandfather, Isabella," James spoke. "He's dying." The blonde man added, "He's got a sizable fortune, one that you're set to inherit when he does pass." My anger dissipated. "My grandpa?"

For the first time in years, someone had said something about my family and Maggie wasn't trying to change the subject yet. I looked between them, "How do you know my grandpa?"

"We work for him." James spoke with a shrug, "He sent us to find you before he died. He wants to see you before it's too late."