Kathy Love - Fangs But No Fangs

His gaze roamed over her body, looking for signs of problems.

"No," she told him, then hesitated. She didn't want to tell this guy she couldn't afford to see a doctor. Not when he'd made it clear he already looked down on her. But she didn't have a choice. As usual, she'd have to set her pride aside, and do whatever was necessary to survive.

"I don't have any insurance," she finally stated flatly.

He stared at her for a moment. Then his frown deepened. "Insurance?"

"Yes, coverage to see a doctor. To help cover the cost of medical care."

He shook his head as if to say he had no idea what she was talking about. How could he not know what medical insurance was? Then she realized that he likely wasn't from the U.S. originally. That would explain his unusual accent. Maybe he had lived somewhere with universal health care.

"Are you Canadian?"

His brows drew even closer together as he stared at her as if she'd gone nutty.

"Canadian?" he finally asked, but didn't wait to discuss the topic further. "Jolee, are you stalling?"

"No. Here you need insurance to see a doctor."

"Well, that's preposterous. You need a doctor, and you will see one."

Jolee almost smiled. Almost. She had to remember this man was a first-class snot. Even if he was being rather gallant at the moment. Of course, he did nearly run you down with his car. Although she'd been a little responsible for that, too. She hadn't been paying attention, her thoughts on the run-in at the bar, and what she'd do if Rick and his buddies returned while she was walking home.

"This woman needs to see a doctor."

Jolee blinked to see that he was obviously done discussing insurance, and was now talking to a custodian who pushed a gray mop around the glossy linoleum flooring.

The custodian, puzzled by the odd man carrying a dirt-and leaf-covered woman, pointed at the alcove labeled "Registration."

Jolee found herself headed to a window where a woman in a white coat, with large-framed glasses and tightly curled hair, looked up at them.

"My goodness," she said, her eyes looking abnormally wide behind her thick lenses. "What happened?"

"She was nearly hit by a car. She needs to see a doctor."

"Please put me down," Jolee hissed, feeling even more ridiculous now that they had observers.

"Have a seat over there," the woman suggested, pointing to the waiting area behind them. "I'll be right out with some paperwork, then we'll get you in to see a doctor."

He didn't look pleased with that answer, but when she pointed again to the waiting room, he did go to the small area, setting Jolee carefully onto one of the metal and plastic chairs.

He sat down beside her, still looking very confused.

"I don't understand," he said. "Why can't you see the doctor, then fill out this paperwork?"

Jolee forced a smile. "You don't go to the doctor much, do you?"

"Never," he stated, and sounded glad of it.

"Okay." The woman appeared with a clipboard. "Just fill but these two forms."

"Does she really need to do this now?"

The woman raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes. Unfortunately. Although if she's too sore to write" — she gestured to Jolee's arm— "then you can help her. I'll be back in a few moments."

The woman marched off, her white shoes squeaking on the newly washed floor.

"Ludicrous," he muttered as he leaned over to peer at the forms.

"See, we should just go," Jolee said hopefully.

"No. Do you need help?"

"No." She sighed. Taking the pen stuck under the metal clip, she started filling in her information. The forms didn't take her long since she had to skip the insurance parts.

Her neighbor shifted in his seat, looking decidedly annoyed. He leaned forward to glare at the clerk. Busy typing on her computer, she didn't notice him. He sat back only to look again seconds later.

"Are you doing all right?" he asked.

Her head felt like it was pulsating noticeably. "I just want to go home."

He stood up, taking the clipboard from where she'd placed it in the chair next to her, and strode to the woman.

He handed the board to her without so much as a word, although Jolee was certain the woman received one of his lofty looks. Not pleasant, as she could attest to.

He came back and took the seat beside her. More time and more impatient movements from her companion, then the woman appeared.

"You don't have insurance," she stated as though Jolee didn't know.

"No, I don't."

The woman frowned. "You will need to pay before you leave tonight."

Jolee nodded and started to lever herself slowly out of the chair. "I figured. Thanks."

Her neighbor stood and reached in his pants pocket. He pulled out a black leather wallet with a small designer emblem on the edge. He flipped it open. "I have plenty of money."

Jolee saw several cards flick by. Gold, platinum, even blue. All that appeared to be missing was Diners Club™.

"Now can she see a doctor?" he asked impatiently.

The clerk nodded, and disappeared through the swinging doors that led into the ER.

Jolee stared at him as he put the wallet back in his pocket.

"I can't take your money." She couldn't owe any money. Especially to this man.

"Of course you can. I'm the one who nearly hit you. I insist on paying for your treatment."

He did have a point. She supposed his gesture was the right one. She'd insist on paying for anyone she hurt, too, that was if she had any money. Thank God she hadn't almost hit him. He'd be in real trouble.

But she wanted to make sure he understood this made them even. "If you pay, I don't owe you anything in return."

He frowned, then comprehension dawned in his eyes. "Certainly not."

She immediately felt stupid. Of course this man wouldn't expect anything else from her. But not because he respected her. Not because he saw her as an equal, but probably because he found her to be unattractive. She told herself that didn't matter to her, but it did sting a little.

Lord, she must be mad. There she sat, hurting, exhausted, and she was upset because this guy didn't find her attractive.

The clerk reappeared, followed by another woman in a white coat. The new woman held the door open and offered a polite smile. "The doctor will see you now."

"About time," her neighbor muttered.

Jolee couldn't agree more. She wanted this over and to go home. And to avoid her neighbor from now on.

After much poking and prodding, Dr. Williams, a woman in her fifties with pretty white-gray hair and a no-nonsense manner, told Jolee what she'd already guessed.

"You have a few cuts and bruises. Your shoulder is going to be pretty sore for the next few days. The scrape on your arm is large but not terribly deep. It should be kept bandaged, though. Other than that, it doesn't require any special attention. And you have a pretty sizable goose egg on your head."

The doctor scribbled some notes on her clipboard. "Really, there isn't much I can offer you except some Motrin and rest."

Jolee nodded. She wanted to rest. Her eyelids felt like they had weights attached to them. "Rest sounds wonderful."

"Do you have anyone to stay with you tonight?"

Jolee hesitated.

"I think it's wise to have someone with you for at least tonight. You have a concussion, and while I don't think it's severe enough to require a hospital stay, I do think you should have someone around in case you suffer vertigo or nausea. In which case, I'd want you to return to the hospital immediately."

"Yes, I do," Jolee assured the doctor. "I have someone."

The doctor nodded, then wrote something else on her clipboard. Probably that Jolee was a liar. She was sure the doctor knew— she was possibly the worst liar on the planet.