Out of Nowhere (The Immortal Vagabond Healer Book 1) by Patrick LeClerc

anglicized, the address was a post office box, and the phone number was a cell. The employer was listed as Doors Imports, with a number and address, so maybe I could run that down.
    ‘She’s really into you,’ Nique observed as she pulled the ambulance out of the hospital lot. ‘You two never hooked up?’
    ‘Hmm?’ I looked up from my reading. ‘What? Tiffany? You’re kidding, right?’
    ‘Why not? I mean, yeah, you met someone, but why not a week ago?’
    ‘It’d never work out,’ I replied dismissively. ‘I mean, have you seen the magazines on her desk? Cosmo. Glamour . God help us, Us. I couldn’t fake an interest long enough to get through dinner.’
    ‘Not even a fling, though?’
    I shook my head. ‘Still have to wake up next to her in the morning. I know it wouldn’t work, and she works in admitting, so every time we needed to register a patient I’d have to see her. Not worth it. Besides, she’s a sweet girl, even if she’s not my type. It would just be sex and I’d feel bad using her.’
    ‘That didn’t stop you and that ER nurse at Holy Trinity.’
    ‘That was different. Jenna knew the score and she was perfectly happy to be used.’ Eager, even, but Nique didn’t need that much detail. ‘Tiffany actually kinda has a crush on me. Using that to get her into bed and then moving on would be a lousy thing to do.’
    I have limits. Not strict or demanding ones, but limits nonetheless.
    ‘If Pete hears that you could’ve slept with her and didn’t, it’ll just throw fuel on the fire of his gay theory.’
    ‘Oh, God, please. Don’t encourage him.’
    ‘Half the EMTs and medics in the company want to bang her. I don’t get what the deal is.’
    ‘Of course you don’t,’ I said without looking up. ‘You’re not a guy.’
    ‘I know who’s attractive,’ she replied defensively.
    ‘OK.’ I set my paper down. ‘I shall try to explain the dark and sinister workings of the male brain. At first glance, Tiffany appears to be the perfect woman. Probably isn’t, but she appears that way. Women don’t think she’s attractive because she doesn’t have the body of a fashion model, but you need to realize that only women and gay men read fashion magazines, and they set the tone for movies, tabloids and so on. Real, meat-eating, sports-watching heterosexual men like a girl with big boobs, a small waist, nice hips and enough ass to get a good grip on. A million years of evolution has programmed that deeper than a mere half century of fashion and pop culture can touch. Plus, whenever we see her, she’s always happy, smiling and, to the casual observer, uncomplicated. She looks low maintenance. She probably wouldn’t be all that easy and uncomplicated in an actual relationship, and nobody’s happy and giggly all the time, but that’s how she appears.’
    I shifted focus. ‘You, on the other hand, are undeniably hot, and a better conversationalist, and probably much more fun to spend long periods of time with. But from a purely sexist, caveman view, you are less desirable because you look like more work.’
    ‘More work?’ She raised an eyebrow.
    ‘Yes, my platonic soul mate, more work. This conversation, for example. For all your sterling qualities, I couldn’t get you to drop your panties for a latte, and then distract you with a copy of Us magazine so I could just drift off to sleep after slaking my lust on your fabulous bod. You, my dear, are an investment. Well worth the effort, and a much better prospect when looked at long term, but more work nevertheless. Dating a pretty, low-maintenance, easily amused and uncomplicated girl is much less investment. Like buying a goldfish. Only a goldfish you can screw.’
    ‘Lovely,’ she responded. ‘You men are disgusting.’
    ‘That we are,’ I agreed. ‘But now, you tell me. Your fiancé Joe is a great guy, has a good job, and is, I can say as a confident heterosexual, not bad-looking.’
    ‘All true.’
    ‘So you wouldn’t find an