The Boss's Son | ✅

25

Be warned, there is very unusual behavior ahead, involving Tess' mouth and Adrian's manly body parts. If I think about it, Adrian's mouth and Tess' body are involved to. Proceed with caution.

Within the day, Adrian greeted me sitting in his hospital bed. Soon, not even his charm could patch over the annoyance of the nursing staff about the traffic in and out of his room, and his expectation for them to work around his laptop and phone as he had turned his private room into his office. I was of the opinion that he did it by purpose so that the doctors would agree to let him go home earlier rather than later.

By the weekend, he had reached his goal with remarkable determination to the cause. He was allowed home. I was worried and asked him, if it wasn't too early. Too fresh were my memories of him on the ground in his own blood, as life sipped out of him. Cocky bastard that he was, he told me that now all depended on my nursing skills. I hoped for him that he was joking. I was the one after all, who had fed a toddler sugar with sugar and watched him go. But his remark gave me an idea that was partly self-serving. I had to deal with my nerves before the mafia master meeting that evening where I would serve my punishment.

I didn't own a nurse outfit. Halloween was my favorite holiday, but my idea of costumes ran to the less female cliché. I made a great Loki, if I might say so myself. And when it came to princesses, I preferred Leia over any other. But I once bought a shirt with a cross on it as a souvenir.

Saturday, after Adrian had been settled into his bedroom, I paired this shirt with skimpy jean shorts and, most importantly for my mission, white, lacy lingerie. On my way to Adrian's house I had bought chocolate covered fruit. Mike would be scandalized that I had touched vitamins without having been forced to, but the truth was that I had remembered before paying that alcohol wouldn't go well with Adrian's meds. Thus prepared, I walked in on Adrian and checked that we had the room to ourselves.

Adrian looked up shortly from the file, he was checking against the screen. "Great, it's you. I wanted to talk with you about meeting my family."

I locked the door behind me. The thud and click made Adrian stop what he was doing. "What's going on?" he asked and eyed me curiously, only now taking in my outfit.

With my free hand, I pointed at the big cross that adorned my front.

Adrian scratched his head. His lips moved against each other. "You are Switzerland?"

I groaned. OK, I had bought the shirt during a visit to the picturesque alpine country. But really, this was not Twilight. Was it so hard to see a white cross on red ground and think of a red cross on a white surface? He'd just been in a hospital for all saints' and souls' sake.

"Please tell me that I haven't agreed to marry a man with total lack of imagination. I am your nurse, of course. Coming with wholesome food," I showed him the small plate, before I placed it on his bed stand, "to check on your health."

He put the folder down to free his one good arm, and used his finger to follow the outline of the cross on my chest. His face broke into a smile. "I like that service."

"It's the best. Not even your fancy private insurance covers that though, I warn you. It will cost you." I looked him up and down. He sat on the covers, pillows puffed up behind his back. His injured leg was slightly elevated, its thigh wrapped in adhesive bandage to provide a bit of pressure. He wore a dress shirt and basketball shorts, not a look I thought I would ever see on him. I tore on my shirt. "Now that you got my uniform all dirty with your germs from your finger, I will have to take it off."

"That is a good idea." He reached out with his right arm. I stepped out of his reach and swatted his hand away. "No! Per doctor's order positively no stress for you. Not even as much as a lifting of your finger. So, I will do this. You – just relax."