A Rich Man's Baby. Daaimah S. Poole
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Название: A Rich Man's Baby
Автор: Daaimah S. Poole
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
isbn: 9780758262721
isbn:
Once I got to work my routine was the same. I went to the station and looked at the board to see how many patients I had. The head nurse, Liz, a vibrant Jamaican woman, usually made sure I had the least amount of patients. She looked out for me because she said I reminded her of her niece back home. “Hey, gal, what you got going on today?” she asked.
“Nothing, just a little tired.”
“No time to be tired, you’re a young person, you got plenty of time before you grow old, ya know,” she said as she handed me my charts and I yawned. Then I went into each patient’s room, introduced myself, and let them know I was going to be their nurse, and if they needed anything to call me.
“Hey, girlie,” I said as I saw Stacey. She was a tall brunette with green eyes. She was very nice and the only nurse I could relate to when I started. We were about the same age and on the same page with life. We swapped dating horror stories. Now she was engaged, and I didn’t see her that often.
“You here again? You work so much,” she said as she looked up from entering notes in the computer.
“Us single gals have to work if we want to pay our bills,” I said as I pulled out a chart.
“Whatever. You work because you don’t want a life. Anyway, I have to tell you, do not walk out of the room while 812 takes her medication. Because every shift she’s been saying the pill dropped on the floor and she couldn’t find it.”
“Another junkie,” I said as I peeped into the room. The woman looked like an addict. She was real thin with dark red spots embedded into her brown skin. It was so sad that she was in the hospital for heart and respiratory problems, and still trying to find a way to get high.
“Yeah.”
“Why do they keep admitting them? Let them go get high,” I said as I began to get my medicine list together. It was going to be a long night.
The next day, I went in for my personal training session with Kyle. He was in this fat girl’s face. He was helping her bring her arms down with weights. I don’t know why I was jealous, but I was. He was showing her the same attention that should have been reserved for me. I walked in his direction and he smiled with his one-dimpled-cheek smile. His curly hair was chaotic, being held together with some kind of mousse.
He saw me and his face turned from smiling to a militant glare, and he said, “Get started on the treadmill twenty minutes. At four point oh.”
I just nodded and jumped on the treadmill. I didn’t bring anything to read, so my twenty minutes was going to feel like an hour. I tried to concentrate, but I was distracted by weights clinking together and men doing arm curls behind me, and I was pissed that I could see Kyle through the mirror. He had moved from the fat girl to an anorexic-thin blonde. She was all in his face, laughing flirtatiously. She needed to go drink a protein shake and get out of his face. I walked slowly until he came over and stopped the machine.
“You ready?” he asked as he let his hand caress my waist.
“Yes.”
He instructed me to get off the treadmill so he could take my measurements. He placed the white measuring tape around my waist and told me I lost two inches.
“Two inches. That’s it?”
“That’s good. What are you trying to do?”
“I really just want to tone more. My stomach is flat, I just want some definition.”
“Definition,” he said as he laughed and asked me what part of the city I lived in.
I told him, and he said he was going to put me on a restricted diet and get me cut in no time. I gave him my address and was ready to begin my real personal training.
Kyle knocked on my door at seven in the morning. I looked at him stretching with a black shirt and knee-length shorts. He was jogging in place, asking me if I was ready. Hell no, but I was obligated because he was at my door. I threw on my sweats and he made me run like thirty blocks nonstop. By the time I was done I was out-of-breath tired and ready to pass out. But I pretended like nothing was wrong.
“What do you have to do now?” he asked as we stood in front of my door.
“Take a shower and get ready for work.”
“I want to check out your refrigerator.”
He went into my refrigerator and cabinets and threw everything away that he thought had too much sugar in it. He emptied my bag of Cool Ranch Doritos in the trash. Then he threw my honey wheat bread and Thai noodles in the trash. He even said I couldn’t have orange juice. I told him I had to get ready for work, but he insisted that we go food shopping. We then drove to Whole Foods, an organic market. He had me buy wheat pasta, egg whites, and soy milk—all this food that I had never heard of and that didn’t look appetizing. We got to the register and my bill was over a hundred dollars and I had only three bags. Eating right was too expensive. I pulled out my wallet, and a very attractive woman of about fifty approached us. I thought she was trying to reach for a magazine or something, so I moved out of her way. She cut her eyes at me, and said, “I need to speak with you, Kyle.”
Kyle told me he would be right back and went and had a lengthy conversation with the woman.
He met me in the parking lot and said that was one of his other clients. She was trying to set up some more dates. We arrived back at my apartment and he helped me bring my groceries in. I thanked him. He asked me for a pen and paper and wrote down a diet program for me while I put my groceries away. When I was done I went and sat down to look over his list of “can’t eats.”
“You are crazy,” I exclaimed as I looked at the list. As soon as I attempted to stand back up, my muscles in my legs locked and tightened. I began to scream.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I think so,” I said as I grabbed my calf.
He instructed me to sit and pulled my leg out slowly and massaged it. “You need to do more stretches,” he said as he pressed his fingertips into my sore muscles and rubbed the pain away.
Within minutes of my trainer touching my leg, our clothes came off and he was on top of me. Kyle was flexing his long muscle up against the flesh between my legs, giving me unbelievable pleasure. I was almost speechless, my mouth was stuck open as I gasped for air. After it was over, my body hurt more than when we began. Kyle sensed my discomfort and began rolling my shoulders back. My body was entranced by his touch. He interrupted that by turning my half-naked body over and assuring me that he would still be my trainer and nothing had changed.
Chapter 3
Dionne Matthews
The dean called my name: “Dionne Matthews.”
I walked across the stage in my СКАЧАТЬ