Whitney stood watching Kendra as she opened a box of surgical supplies and stacked them on a storeroom shelf. Normally, this was a task Kendra would leave for the office staff to do—she hadn’t submerged so far into the pit of micromanagement that she had to physically oversee each duty—but the workday was over and everyone else had gone home. Since Kendra had to wait for Nikki to swing by with her car, Whitney offered to help—which didn’t fool Kendra for a second. Help was really code for sitting there and pumping her for information about her personal life. “I do not. I smell like that new herbal massage oil John is trying out.” “Nope. That’s not it.” Whitney inhaled deeply. “It’s definitely eau de forest nymph—a highly sexualized one I’d guess is getting it on with all the wood-dwelling peasants. Ooh, are those the new stainless steel cannulas I asked you to order?” Kendra smacked her friend’s hand.
