Read Online Bad Boy - A Stepbrother Romance by Caitlin Daire, Alyssa Alpha - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Caitlin Daire, Alyssa Alpha
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last few weeks had passed rather quickly and uneventfully, mostly due to the fact that I hadn’t had any more run-ins with Finn. He usually got up late in the day and worked till the early hours of the morning, seeing as his main job involved managing Helvetica, the nightclub in the lower east wing of the hotel. I’d settled back into my old routine of getting up early, going to work at the startup and then returning to my new home in the hotel at around five, and I was almost always in bed and sound asleep by ten.
Yep, our vastly differing schedules were a blessing. No more awkward hallway encounters for me.
Today, I had the morning off work, and I was taking my Grandma to a doctor for a physical. She couldn’t drive herself, seeing as her eyes were absolutely terrible without glasses. Even though she wore her glasses all the time, the DMV had still insisted that she was no longer allowed a driver’s license, so it was up to either Mom or me to ferry her around.
She’d been complaining of headaches a lot lately, and I was worried it might be something serious, which was the reason behind the physical. She was convinced that she was fine, and she hadn’t wanted to see a doctor at all, but I’d told her that if she honestly thought she was fine, then there was no harm in getting a checkup just to confirm that for peace of mind. She’d grudgingly accepted that, and we’d just arrived at the hospital where our old family GP, Dr. Cummings, now worked.
“Where did you say his new office is again?” she asked, squinting at a sign.
“Fifth floor,” I said. “The elevators are just over there.”
She huffed. “You know I don’t like elevators. So cramped and smelly, and they always break down.”
I grinned. “You don’t mind the hotel one!”
She waved her hand at me. “That’s different. It’s more spacious.”
“Well, the Crown is a luxury hotel, after all,” I said. “But seriously, Abuela, you shouldn’t have to climb five flights of stairs. The elevator won’t break down on us, I promise.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not as ancient as you seem to think, and I don’t need to be treated like a broken old doll. I’m more than capable of taking the stairs!”
With that, she marched over to the stairwell, and I followed her over with a heavy sigh. I knew why she was so grumpy at the moment. It wasn’t just because she was annoyed at being thought of as elderly; it was also because she didn’t like hospitals. Ever since her husband—my grandfather—had died at the relatively young age of forty-six, she hadn’t been able to stand being around doctors. I was pretty sure her last checkup had been over ten years ago, when I was still in elementary school.
“Abuela,” I said, capturing her hand in mine as we ascended the stairs. “Are you okay?”
She sighed and stopped for a second. “I’m sorry for snapping at you . This place just reminds me of…”
Her sentence trailed off, and she sniffed as tears pooled in her eyes.
“I know,” I said softly. “It makes you think about him.”
“It’s not that I don’t like thinking of him,” she said. “I still think about him every day. I just don’t like being reminded of what it was like to see him in the hospital, so sick and fragile. He was too young.”
“He was,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
She gave me a watery smile. “Well, I still have you and your mother. Anyway, let’s get this appointment over and done with.”
“Okay.”
I kept hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze, and we finally reached the doctor’s office a few minutes later.
“Adelina, you still look the same as you did fifteen years ago,” Dr. Cummings said, pretending to tip an imaginary hat at her as we walked in. He was a kindly-faced older man, probably about the same age as Grandma. “You Venezuelan ladies must have some sort of secret youth potion.”
She laughed. “See, Rory? Not everyone thinks I’m an old relic.”
I giggled, and Dr.
Yep, our vastly differing schedules were a blessing. No more awkward hallway encounters for me.
Today, I had the morning off work, and I was taking my Grandma to a doctor for a physical. She couldn’t drive herself, seeing as her eyes were absolutely terrible without glasses. Even though she wore her glasses all the time, the DMV had still insisted that she was no longer allowed a driver’s license, so it was up to either Mom or me to ferry her around.
She’d been complaining of headaches a lot lately, and I was worried it might be something serious, which was the reason behind the physical. She was convinced that she was fine, and she hadn’t wanted to see a doctor at all, but I’d told her that if she honestly thought she was fine, then there was no harm in getting a checkup just to confirm that for peace of mind. She’d grudgingly accepted that, and we’d just arrived at the hospital where our old family GP, Dr. Cummings, now worked.
“Where did you say his new office is again?” she asked, squinting at a sign.
“Fifth floor,” I said. “The elevators are just over there.”
She huffed. “You know I don’t like elevators. So cramped and smelly, and they always break down.”
I grinned. “You don’t mind the hotel one!”
She waved her hand at me. “That’s different. It’s more spacious.”
“Well, the Crown is a luxury hotel, after all,” I said. “But seriously, Abuela, you shouldn’t have to climb five flights of stairs. The elevator won’t break down on us, I promise.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not as ancient as you seem to think, and I don’t need to be treated like a broken old doll. I’m more than capable of taking the stairs!”
With that, she marched over to the stairwell, and I followed her over with a heavy sigh. I knew why she was so grumpy at the moment. It wasn’t just because she was annoyed at being thought of as elderly; it was also because she didn’t like hospitals. Ever since her husband—my grandfather—had died at the relatively young age of forty-six, she hadn’t been able to stand being around doctors. I was pretty sure her last checkup had been over ten years ago, when I was still in elementary school.
“Abuela,” I said, capturing her hand in mine as we ascended the stairs. “Are you okay?”
She sighed and stopped for a second. “I’m sorry for snapping at you . This place just reminds me of…”
Her sentence trailed off, and she sniffed as tears pooled in her eyes.
“I know,” I said softly. “It makes you think about him.”
“It’s not that I don’t like thinking of him,” she said. “I still think about him every day. I just don’t like being reminded of what it was like to see him in the hospital, so sick and fragile. He was too young.”
“He was,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
She gave me a watery smile. “Well, I still have you and your mother. Anyway, let’s get this appointment over and done with.”
“Okay.”
I kept hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze, and we finally reached the doctor’s office a few minutes later.
“Adelina, you still look the same as you did fifteen years ago,” Dr. Cummings said, pretending to tip an imaginary hat at her as we walked in. He was a kindly-faced older man, probably about the same age as Grandma. “You Venezuelan ladies must have some sort of secret youth potion.”
She laughed. “See, Rory? Not everyone thinks I’m an old relic.”
I giggled, and Dr.
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