The Accidental Wealth

Chapter 7

Before the voice could respond, there was a familiar chime, and Quantum Quill's sultry tones filled his head. "Miss me, darling?"

"Oh, thank god," Jackson sighed. "Where have you been?"

"Updating, obviously. Can't you tell? My wit is even sharper now."

"Great. Well, while you were busy sharpening your wit, I've been stuck here with a hospital bill I can't pay."

QQ tsked. "I can see that. And it's clearly due to your poor flirting skills. We really need to work on that."

"My flirting skills?" He sputtered. "How is that related to my hospital bill?"

"Oh, honey, everything's related. If you had a better game, you might have charmed your way into a discount. Or at least scored some free jello."

"Okay, fine. How can I improve my flirting skills while stuck in this overpriced hospital room?"

"Simple," QQ  chirped. "I'm giving you another task."

"Another task? What is it this time? Flirt with the doctor? Chat up a coma patient?"

"Don't be ridiculous," QQ chided. "I want you to go find Olivia and have coffee with her in the hospital cafeteria."

"That's it?" He asked, suspicious. "Just coffee?"

"Oh, darling, if only life were that simple. No, your main task is to find out if she's single or committed. And while you're at it, I need you to discover the type and color of her underwear —both bra and panties."

He nearly dropped his phone. "You want me to ask about her underwear? Are you out of your mind?"

"Of course not. It's all part of the game, Jackson. A test of your skills. Can you charm her into revealing intimate details without making a complete fool of yourself?"

"Fine. I'll do it. But if this gets me slapped, I'm blaming you."

"Noted. Now, go make that call."

He dialed Olivia's number, feeling his palms sweat as the phone rang. And rang. And rang. No answer.

"She's not picking up. What now?"

"What now?" the voice echoed, sounding amused. "Now you figure it out, darling. I'm not your personal GPS for nurse-tracking."

He groaned. "Come on, can't you give me another task? Something easier?"

"Oh, honey," Quantum Quill drawled. "Life doesn't hand out participation trophies. You want to win? Find your own way."

"Find my own way, huh?" he muttered. "Fine. I'll show you 'finding my own way.'"

He poked his head out into the hallway, scanning for any sign of Olivia. The corridor stretched out before him, a labyrinth of identical doors and antiseptic smell.

As he wandered down the hall, he dialed Olivia's number again. And again. And again. Each time, he was greeted by her cheerful voicemail message. "Hi, you've reached Olivia! I'm probably saving a life right now, so leave a message, and I'll get back to you when I'm done being awesome!"

He couldn't help but smile. Even her voicemail was charming.

He turned a corner and nearly collided with a gurney being wheeled by at breakneck speed. "Watch it!" the orderly yelled as Jackson flattened against the wall.

"Sorry!" Jackson called after them. "Just looking for my nurse!"

"Aren't we all, buddy?" came the reply as the gurney disappeared around another corner.

He shook his head and continued his search. He passed by rooms filled with beeping machines, snoring patients, and, in one memorable instance, what appeared to be a small circus troupe.

Just as he was about to give up and return to his room in defeat, he spotted a familiar figure stepping out of a room down the hall. Olivia.

His heart did a little flip. Or maybe that was just residual bus-impact trauma.

"Olivia!" he called out, trying to sound casual and not like a man who'd been desperately searching for her for the past five minutes.

Olivia turned, her eyes widening in surprise. "Mr. Jackson? What are you doing out of your room?"

He approached her, trying his best to look nonchalant. "Oh, you know, just stretching my legs. Getting the lay of the land. Totally normal patient behavior."

"Uh-huh. Did you pay your bill and get discharged?"

His casual facade crumbled faster than a house of cards in a hurricane. "Ah, about that... Funny story, actually. Turns out I got less money in my account than I thought. But don't worry! My friend's transferring some cash over. Any minute now. Yep. Any... minute..."

"You can't just wander around if you haven't been discharged."

"Oh, come on," he pleaded, trying his best puppy-dog eyes. "I'm not causing any trouble. Just a harmless little stroll. You know, to aid in my recovery."

Olivia raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Mr. Jackson, hospital policy clearly states—"

"It's alright, really," he interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. "Look, I'm practically healed. Watch this." He attempted a little dance move that was part moonwalk, part seizure. "See? Fit as a fiddle. In fact, I'm so fit and free now. How about we grab that coffee?"

"I can't just go out for coffee with patients. It's unprofessional."

"Who said anything about going out?" Jackson grinned, struck by sudden inspiration. "I hear this place has a top-notch cafeteria. Five-star dining. Jell-O to die for."

She hesitated, glancing at her watch. "I really shouldn't..."

"Come on," he coaxed. "Live a little. It's just coffee. In a cafeteria. Surrounded by the soothing ambiance of heart monitors and the gentle aroma of disinfectant."

Olivia laughed. "You're persistent, I'll give you that."

"Is that a yes?"

"Fine. One coffee. In the cafeteria. But if anyone asks, you're lost and I'm escorting you back to your room."

"Deal," Jackson agreed, feeling victorious. As they walked towards the elevator, he wondered how he was going to steer the conversation toward her relationship status and underwear preferences without coming off as a complete creep.