9. Solid Rock
9
SOLID ROCK
VIVIAN
I located a bathroom in the corridor and splashed cold water on my face. Puffy eyes from all the crying were the last thing Paris needed to see when I returned to her room—I had to be strong for her. Yet, when I looked in the mirror above the sink, I didn’t see a brave woman staring back.
“I must be the oldest twenty-eight-year-old mother on the planet,” I mumbled with disgust. And this was the image greeting Richard since he arrived?
I hurriedly ran my fingers through my stringy hair, as if brushing it, splashed more cold water, and pinched my cheeks in a vain attempt to bring back some color. There was nothing I could do about the wrinkles creeping up on me, but a cool, damp towel pressed against my eyes somewhat reduced the puffiness and dark circles.
Why did I even bother? It wasn’t like Richard was going to fall head over heels for me. He was here out of duty to his brother, and driven by his passion for supporting children in need, very admirable. All we were to him was his project du jour. Once Paris got better, he’d return to his billionaire lifestyle in the city while we went back to our small town.
The reality glared harshly back at me in the mirror—I didn’t have to be on show for him because nothing could come of this. My attraction to him simply manifested as a result of memories from Paris, and easy to dismiss. I grabbed the edge of the counter and inhaled, breathing a little easier. There. No more thoughts of getting together with Richard.
Back to the present, where everything in my life had become overwhelming—what day was it today? I checked my phone and noticed several messages I’d been ignoring—some from delivery drivers whose routine drop-offs of eggs, milk, and other supplies had been thrown off schedule, and others from seasonal staff anxious after showing up for work only to find my shop closed.
I summoned my resolve, put on my proverbial big girl panties, and called to explain the situation to each of them. On a small note of relief, both of my employees had agreed to find other work, though they asked to be contacted if I needed help again when I reopened later in the season because they loved working with me. I’d taken to teaching them the basics of pastry making, and both were eager to continue.
With no clear timeline for returning to baking or reopening the shop, my income was bound to suffer. Thankfully, I had inherited both the shop and the two-story apartment above it after our mother passed away, and Keaton had willingly waived his share so that Paris and I could have a roof over our heads. Surely, once her medical condition improved, I’d eventually reopen my shop, negotiate with my creditors, and somehow manage.
Everything was a mess right now, but I knew it couldn’t last forever.
After ending those calls, I took a minute to regain my composure, until my phone rang with a call from Chelsea.
“Hi, where are you?” I asked through sniffles, genuinely happy to hear her voice.
“I’m still in the Maldives. I got your messages. A freak storm has stranded us here a couple more days until we can fly the Buchanan jet home. Is Paris okay?” She asked.
“Her diagnosis is not great. But Richard’s here, and he’s been incredibly helpful. Paris loves his travel stories.”
“And you? How are you holding up?”
“Barely hanging on.” My voice cracked as tears threatened to fall again. I updated her on the latest news from the doctor.
“Oh, dear. I’ll be there soon. Just lean on Richard for support—he’ll do anything you need, and if he doesn’t, then he’ll have me to contend with. And I know you, Viv. You’re too proud to ask for help, but please, do it anyway. Now isn’t the time to hide your needs,” she implored.
Before I could respond, music from the hall caught my attention. I peered out from the bathroom door and saw nurses, parents, and patients all making their way to the common room. The smell of popcorn permeated the usual bleach of the pediatric unit.
“There you are, Mrs. Bardeaux. Come quickly,” said Nurse Kimmie, though I disliked being addressed by that name and thought I’d told her.
“What’s going on?” My heart jumped as she waved me out of the bathroom.
“Didn’t Mr. Buchanan tell you? You have to see this,” she said.
“Chelsea? I have to go now. Let me know when you get here,” I said as I started down the noisy hall. Unable to catch her final words, I pocketed my phone, dabbed at my eyes with my sleeve, and entered the common room.
Gathered to watch a screening of a new animated movie, each family occupied blown up swimming pools filled with blankets and pillows, like having their own box seats at a theater. Twinkle lights on the ceiling above us sparkled like stars in the sky with the lights off, while the staff handed out buckets of popcorn. And what movie would be complete without 3D glasses?
The entire room transformed, and there was my beautiful girl in front, sitting beside Richard, her radiant grin filling my heart with warmth. She looked happier than ever. As they enjoyed a lively conversation, I clutched my chest.
Oh, God—if I kept seeing them together like this, my heart might burst. And if it affected me this way, what must it do to Paris? It was obvious—she was falling for him. After all, besides Keaton, she’d never had a father figure shower her with attention like this.
When everything was over, when she recovered and Richard lost interest once his services were no longer needed here, would it break her heart never to see him again? I should talk with him tonight, and warn him about the impact he was having on her, but then I caught sight of Paris’ face, bright with pure joy…
“Mommy!” She spotted me and eagerly waved me over. I tiptoed across the room, careful not to disrupt the others, my figure cutting a silhouette from the projector onto the wall. From the images and the music, I recognized Paris’ favorite animated cartoon characters, the Globegans, in their first animated full-length movie. But I thought it wasn’t due to be released until this summer?
I climbed into the little pool and got comfortable, pulling her into my arms. “How fun is this?”
“Isn’t it cool? Richard did this,” she said, her eyes glued to the screen.
For Paris’ sake, I forced a smile—because that was all I could muster in that moment. My daughter’s happiness meant everything, and if Richard made her happy, I couldn’t take him away from her right now.
He caught my eye, grinning ear to ear, with Paris between us. “Do you like it?” He whispered.
“Of course. I love it. But when did you have time to throw this together?” I shook my head in complete awe.
“I can’t divulge all my secrets or nothing would be a surprise. And I’m a master of them.” With a wink, he turned back to the show, grabbing a handful of popcorn.
As he sat across from me, something else vied for my nose’s attention—the aroma of his rich and spicy cologne enveloped me like a promise of safety. Like that one night in Paris where I’d escaped a bad scene with Adrien, only to find myself in the arms of this billionaire.
Oh, to be young and to lose myself with Richard all over again? It had happened in Paris; what if something were to happen between us here? I walked my eyes down his body, my fingers itching to touch, recalling every detail of his muscular frame, as if we were together only yesterday.
Paris shifted, snuggling closer into my body, striking a poignant reminder into my heart: she’s all that matters right now. She’s my entire focus, my life, my sweetest baby.
The man beside us was only a convenience. Not forever. Still, this whole room and event impressed me that he’d go to such lengths for us.
Later in the evening, Paris requested an encore, and Richard arranged with the nurses for us to have the common room to ourselves. So sweetly, he carried her on his back down the hallway to the cozy nest of the pool, jokingly calling himself “Paris’ camel ride” to the tune of her giggles.
I settled in beside her with blankets and pillows, knowing it wouldn't be long before her eyes drifted shut, while Richard stood awkwardly nearby.
"Come on, join us for the movie," Paris invited, patting the spot next to her.
"Are you sure you two don't want some time alone?" He looked to me for reassurance. Alone... wasn't that always how it was for us? Paris and I floated through life, depending solely on each other. Richard was like an island we'd discovered, a temporary refuge before heading back out into the world... alone.
"Stay," I nodded. We wouldn't be there long anyway, considering how sleepy my little girl was.
I was right. Once she was out, my heavy eyelids fought desperately not to close. All I wanted was to curl up and embrace her little body to mine and sleep. I could listen to her tiny snores all night. If only I wasn’t worried I’d disturb her with my tossing and turning from worry.
“You must be exhausted,” Richard whispered, reclining opposite me, so tall, his legs hung way out and his arms crossed beneath his head. He, too, looked worn from hours of staying by Paris’ side. I could see how much he cared so deeply, so quickly for our situation.
“You too, but there must be a hotel nearby. We’re fine, if you want to go. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us.” I let him off the hook, assuring I could fully manage without him, in case he didn’t think so.
“I’m sure you are fine, but I’m not leaving,” he said, and I wasn’t sure I really wanted him to. He’d become a solid rock I could lean on through all of this, no matter how independent and strong I thought I was. “Rex and Chelsea wouldn’t want you facing this alone, and?—”
“Please, don’t stay out of loyalty to them.”
“I’m not here for them. I’m here for you and Paris.”
I averted my gaze, knowing his eyes could see right through me and how much I wanted to believe his words were true. Instead, I reached for Paris’ hand again, committing the feel of her tiny fingers to memory. The past six years had flown by so quickly, and soon enough, before I knew it, she’d be a sassy teenager. Hand holding with me would stop. And she’d probably trade in her fascination with exploring the world for crushes on teenage boys.
“But yes, I took the liberty of booking a suite at the nearest hotel. It has two bedrooms, so we could take turns—one of us stays with her, while the other gets some rest, bathes, and has time to eat,” he said calmly, once more offering the world to me.
“I can’t just leave her here.”
“I knew you’d say that. I’ve talked with the doctor about testing me as her kidney donor—” He held up a hand to silence my protest before I could voice it. “They’ll be able to tell within about five days if I’m a match, and that’s as fast as I could get them to push getting the test results. If it isn’t me, though, finding another match could take just as long or even longer. Vivian, you can’t keep up this pace day in and out—it won’t do either of you any good if you’re not well-rested.”
I shook my head, unwilling to entertain the idea of leaving, so I changed the subject. “I cannot believe you’re here. Of all people to run into. And to think you didn’t have a clue who I was when you rescued me the night my van broke down.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Maybe not, but I took one look at your broken down van and at you, and had one single goal.”
“Getting the cake to the wedding on time?”
“Make that two goals.” He chuckled, his sultry gaze reached deeply inside of me. He stretched his arms wide, one landing behind my back where a brush of his fingertips sent a thrill down my spine.
“I suppose for a man like you, a woman with a child isn’t exactly your pace.”
“Truthfully, you, being a single mother, threw me off initially. Now? The woman with a child in this room is incredibly appealing.” His low, intimate tone left no room for misinterpretation.
“What do you want, Richard?”
He drew in a deep breath. “I want Paris to pull through this. I want to make sure both of you are financially stable, healthy, and happy after all of this… and I want you.”
The fluttering in my stomach wouldn’t stop. I shouldn’t be here in the hospital flirting with a very rich man tempting me like this. Utterly drained, I sighed and placed a palm on my forehead. “I can’t think straight. Paris is my only priority right now.”
“And I wouldn’t expect anything less. I have so much respect for you—being a single mom, leaving that deadbeat in France, doing everything necessary to survive each day. I’ve placed you on the highest pedestal of any woman I’ve ever known, Vivian. And maybe, once the dust settles, you’ll honor me by saying yes when I call out of the blue one day to ask you on a date. Or say no, if you truly aren’t interested in me. Either way, your and your daughter’s happiness matters most. Does that clear things up?”
God, I was a mess, questioning his motives. “Yes, but I’m just so exhausted. It’s all been too much.”
“That’s exactly why you should go to the suite. I have a car waiting for you whenever you’re ready.” He arched a brow and nodded toward the door. “You could give me your number, and I’ll call you if anything happens with her overnight.”
I chuckled, removing my phone from my pocket and handing it over, flirting. “Guess that’s one way for you to get my phone number.”
“I could have gotten it from Rex. I think he and Chelsea hope that we… get together.”
“Do they now?” I gazed into his eyes and lost myself for a moment, while the words I hope so too, played on the tip of my tongue. But I stopped from blurting it. That would have been simply my exhaustion talking.
Despite a pang of guilt about leaving Paris overnight, I took him up on the offer to use the suite. I needed to look after myself for her sake. Once we gently returned Paris back to her hospital bed and she drifted off, I kissed her goodnight.
At the door, I glanced back once more at them both. Paris’ little body curled into a ball, sound asleep, while Richard sprawled out the full length of the sleeper chair, eyes closed, trying to get comfortable for the night ahead. I spoke to the nurses about the situation one more time, who all promised they’d keep an eye on them, then left.
At the suite, where I thought I’d head straight to a bed and collapse, my eyes fell first upon several boxes and baskets arranged on the coffee table in the elegantly appointed space. Curiosity won over, and I approached and opened each one.
The largest white boxes contained clothes for both Paris and me; fashionable yet comfortable items perfectly suited for the cold weather, like thick leggings, jeans, cashmere sweaters, boots. Plus, there were several sets of pajamas for Paris, and—my breath caught—fancy sets of bras and panties for me. Such luxuries were a bit much for us, all in the right sizes, too.
How in the world did he manage to do this?
It suddenly dawned on me that I had left home without a single packed item, evident by the sweater I’d been in for two days straight. Not even toothbrushes.
I marveled over a basket filled with facial scrubs, moisturizers, dental care, scented bath soaps, and perfume. And not travel sizes—full sized bottles of elegant, expensive brands.
A fresh mix of brightly colored flowers occupied the center of the table. Their aroma battled for dominance with the scent of croissants, jam, and fresh berries loaded on a tray.
“I had my favorite brought in from NYC, probably the closest you’ll get to Parisian croissants,” read Richard’s note on the bakery box. I’d be the judge of that, hoping my appetite returned by morning to try one.
Another basket held cheeses, grapes, a baguette with ham, and a bottle of good red wine. Swiss dark chocolate topped it all off—though I wasn’t hungry enough for more than mere nibbles of anything. Stress sapped my appetite.
Every item was lavish and over the top—but what did I expect from a man with means? His enthusiastic involvement in our lives had come as a complete surprise. I’d end up thanking him for the rest of my life for everything he’d done since this all began.
I could read so much into this, but right now, I didn’t have the energy to analyze his deeds and intentions. My brain shut down, and my body moved as if filled with heavy lead. I practically crawled into the nearest bedroom, where the inviting plush linens beckoned. I sprawled in the center of the bed and closed my eyes, my final thought a quiet prayer for Paris.