The women were laughing and offering more undesired dating advice as she dropped into an empty chair with her backpack and tugged out her books. “Fine, you can do Jose’s hair. I can use the time to study.”

Their voices melded into white noise as she fell back into her anatomy textbook, once again studying the internal workings of the human sex organs. Briefly, she pictured herself lining up the men she’d encountered that day and kicking each one squarely in the testes. A satisfying image at first, until she realized her anger had only managed to get her into hot water—it certainly hadn’t solved any of her problems. Getting her nursing license was the only thing that could do that.

She turned to the next section in the book, determined to move forward, to be better. To be there for her son so he didn’t die.

“I cannot believe one of my employees would do that to you—I mean you, the Duke!” The owner of the Peacock trailed off, wringing his hands. “Like I said, do not worry about your bill. It’s taken care of. I just can’t apologize enough—”

“Dude, I am not making a server pay my tab. I was rude to her. I deserved it. Now, take my card.” Duke thrust his Visa into the owner’s hands.

Roland and Aaron, with two women in short shorts sandwiched between them, laughed. The ex-ballplayer said, “Idiot. Let them foot the bill.”

“Nah, I got this.” Duke was miserable. He had sobered up quickly when he realized he’d caused the bartender to lose her job. If she’s working at the clinic and working at a bar, she must need the money. “I feel like a total dick.”

“C’mon, you were hitting on her. She should be used to it. She’s fucking dressed like a tramp. Obviously she wants the attention.”

“She’s no thot. That nurse is sexy as hell.”

Roland hunched his shoulders. “Nurse? We’re in a club, homey.”

“I saw her earlier today. She’s a nurse at the clinic.”

His agent tuned in. “Wait, you saw her earlier? The bartender who just blasted you?” Aaron’s voice dropped in pitch. He fluttered his hand at the whispering girls on the couch with them. “Ladies, can you excuse us?”

Miffed, they sauntered away. Roland watched them go, puzzled, then said, “What clinic? Why were you at a clinic?”

Aaron talked over him. “Does she know who you are? Duke, if she tells anyone you’ve hurt your ankle, the GM is gonna find out.”

“I thought your ankle was healed,” Roland said.

“No, she doesn’t know who I am, and no, my ankle is fine, like I told you. I kinda tweaked it at the charity game earlier, but, seriously, it doesn’t hurt now.”

“How do you know she doesn’t recognize you?”