good enough. He was back in the room, ready to lift me up within seconds.
“Not that I want to appear ungrateful, but I’m the kind of girl who likes her privacy in the bathroom.”
“I understand. But I’m not going to risk you falling and cracking open your skull. Sorry.” He hooked his arms under my armpits and lifted me, and within a heartbeat I was extremely grateful he was there holding me up. I probably would’ve fallen over if he hadn’t been.
“Okay?” He asked, holding me tightly.
“Dizzy.”
“I’ll give you a minute.”
As I held my head stationary, my forehead resting against his broad chest, the spinning eased. “Better now. I’d like to wash my hands and brush my teeth.”
“Okay.”
It took some fairly creative manipulations to get me to the sink without falling while he kept a tight hold on me, but we managed. Soon my hands were germ free, my mouth minty fresh, and I was being carried back to the bed.
The descent to the mattress was hell, but once I was horizontal, things settled down again.
“Wow,” I said, closing my eyes. “That was . . . quite an ordeal.”
He said, “I can’t leave you alone for long.”
“Surely this will ease up soon.”
“I’m calling a doctor.” He bent down, brushed his lips against mine, smoothed my hair back from my face. “Don’t move from this bed.”
“Yes, sir.”
He gave me one last kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
And out he went.
I closed my eyes and let myself drift off.
“Miss Barnes?”
Someone was calling me? Was I dreaming?
I dragged open my heavy eyelids and had a mini heart attack.
There was a strange man standing over me. A strange man with thinning gray hair, a matching five o’clock shadow, and eyebrows in desperate need of grooming.
I jerked upright. “Who—”
“I’m Dr. Feigel. Mr. Maldonado called me,” the doctor explained as he took my wrist in his hand, pressing two fingers to my pulse point.
“Oh.”
He glanced down at his wristwatch for a few seconds, nodded, then reached for what I assumed was his bag, sitting on the nightstand. He pulled out a blood pressure cuff and strapped it on my arm. “What seems to be the problem?”
“I’m really dizzy.”
“Dizzy as in faint? Or dizzy as in feeling a spinning sensation?” he asked.
“The second one.”
“All right,” he said as he squeezed the little rubber bulb, inflating the cuff. It tightened around my arm, cutting off the circulation. “Any other symptoms?” He released the pressure.
“I’m very sleepy. And I . . . don’t remember part of last night. It might be I was sleeping, but I don’t know.”
“Hmmm.” He removed the cuff. “Your blood pressure is a little low.” He put it away, checked some other things—heart, throat, ears, temperature. “I think you should go to the hospital and have some blood tests run.”
As he was working, I noticed I could move my head without the spinning being so bad. “Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s getting better.”
“Are you sure?”
I shook my head, then nodded. “Yes. It is getting better.”
His bushy gray brows scrunched together. “Did you have anything to drink last night? Any alcohol?”
“No. Only water.”
He pulled a little light thing out of his bag and shined it in my eyes. “Did you take any medications?”
“A couple of aspirin.”
“Are you sure that’s the only medication you took?”
A little chill prickled my back. “Yes, I’m sure.” Was he suggesting I was lying? Or I had taken some random pill without knowing what it was? Or did he see something suspicious that I should worry about?”
“I’m not finding anything wrong. You may have a slight infection of your inner ear.” He started putting all his doctor tools back in his bag. “If your symptoms get worse or return, go to the hospital immediately.”
“Will do.”
“Okay. I’m going to leave now. I’ll leave my card on your nightstand. If you have
“Not that I want to appear ungrateful, but I’m the kind of girl who likes her privacy in the bathroom.”
“I understand. But I’m not going to risk you falling and cracking open your skull. Sorry.” He hooked his arms under my armpits and lifted me, and within a heartbeat I was extremely grateful he was there holding me up. I probably would’ve fallen over if he hadn’t been.
“Okay?” He asked, holding me tightly.
“Dizzy.”
“I’ll give you a minute.”
As I held my head stationary, my forehead resting against his broad chest, the spinning eased. “Better now. I’d like to wash my hands and brush my teeth.”
“Okay.”
It took some fairly creative manipulations to get me to the sink without falling while he kept a tight hold on me, but we managed. Soon my hands were germ free, my mouth minty fresh, and I was being carried back to the bed.
The descent to the mattress was hell, but once I was horizontal, things settled down again.
“Wow,” I said, closing my eyes. “That was . . . quite an ordeal.”
He said, “I can’t leave you alone for long.”
“Surely this will ease up soon.”
“I’m calling a doctor.” He bent down, brushed his lips against mine, smoothed my hair back from my face. “Don’t move from this bed.”
“Yes, sir.”
He gave me one last kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
And out he went.
I closed my eyes and let myself drift off.
“Miss Barnes?”
Someone was calling me? Was I dreaming?
I dragged open my heavy eyelids and had a mini heart attack.
There was a strange man standing over me. A strange man with thinning gray hair, a matching five o’clock shadow, and eyebrows in desperate need of grooming.
I jerked upright. “Who—”
“I’m Dr. Feigel. Mr. Maldonado called me,” the doctor explained as he took my wrist in his hand, pressing two fingers to my pulse point.
“Oh.”
He glanced down at his wristwatch for a few seconds, nodded, then reached for what I assumed was his bag, sitting on the nightstand. He pulled out a blood pressure cuff and strapped it on my arm. “What seems to be the problem?”
“I’m really dizzy.”
“Dizzy as in faint? Or dizzy as in feeling a spinning sensation?” he asked.
“The second one.”
“All right,” he said as he squeezed the little rubber bulb, inflating the cuff. It tightened around my arm, cutting off the circulation. “Any other symptoms?” He released the pressure.
“I’m very sleepy. And I . . . don’t remember part of last night. It might be I was sleeping, but I don’t know.”
“Hmmm.” He removed the cuff. “Your blood pressure is a little low.” He put it away, checked some other things—heart, throat, ears, temperature. “I think you should go to the hospital and have some blood tests run.”
As he was working, I noticed I could move my head without the spinning being so bad. “Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s getting better.”
“Are you sure?”
I shook my head, then nodded. “Yes. It is getting better.”
His bushy gray brows scrunched together. “Did you have anything to drink last night? Any alcohol?”
“No. Only water.”
He pulled a little light thing out of his bag and shined it in my eyes. “Did you take any medications?”
“A couple of aspirin.”
“Are you sure that’s the only medication you took?”
A little chill prickled my back. “Yes, I’m sure.” Was he suggesting I was lying? Or I had taken some random pill without knowing what it was? Or did he see something suspicious that I should worry about?”
“I’m not finding anything wrong. You may have a slight infection of your inner ear.” He started putting all his doctor tools back in his bag. “If your symptoms get worse or return, go to the hospital immediately.”
“Will do.”
“Okay. I’m going to leave now. I’ll leave my card on your nightstand. If you have
Similar Books
