THIRTY
SHE DID LOOK forward to it, until she got there. Fernando seated her in a private dining room that gave them cover to conduct their romance in secret. Excellent! Only… there was no “they” yet. Being the only one in there made her isolation all the starker. Nothing to see here. Just a woman by herself, she shouldn’t be humiliated yet, should she? What was the clock on being stood up?
Okay, so she’d shown up early, eager to thank him for what he’d accomplished the previous day. The Breckenridges didn’t just move her things, the old apartment was spotless, and her things had been unpacked at the new place. Not her clothes in the suitcases though. Good. Gave her something to do and a little dignity. Everything else was in cabinets, in drawers, even the TV had been wall-mounted upstairs in the bedroom loft. Not where she’d have put it, but, okay.
They’d built her furniture, made her bed—it was so much more than she’d anticipated. And if she’d had Darroch’s number, she might have called to tell him that. Just as well she didn’t or something inappropriate may have crossed her lips. A man like him was a blessing. Genuine, honest, kind, he didn’t know how to disrespect her.
Except… clearly he did.
Why couldn’t they get it together? If it was supposed to happen, it would happen. They had to decide to jump in or clear out. By that logic, if they weren’t supposed to happen, these obstacles would continue to shoot up in their way. At some point, eventually, she’d have to take fate’s hint.
Was that why he hadn’t showed? He’d changed his mind? Decided she was too much trouble? Found someone far more glamorous and—no, not that last one, he wouldn’t ditch out like that. What kind of guy wouldn’t ditch out on an apartment move but would on dinner?
Nine, he’d be there by—okay, so nine thirty… How long was she going to sit there drinking wine she couldn’t afford?
Damnit.
Finishing the bottle, because why the hell not, she gulped down the liquid.
Fernando came in. “Miss Mayden—”
“I know, he’s not coming.” She stood up, holding her phone. “Can I have the check, please?”
“We just heard… something.”
“Something?” she asked. Why was he pale, so reticent? “Fernando, what?”
“An ambulance was called to…”
“What?” she asked, her heart leaping to her throat.
“We don’t know exactly, but Tripp left his suite upstairs in a hurry about two hours ago. Took Roxanna’s car to Laird’s.”
“Laird’s—Laird’s Hospital?” With a gulp, he nodded. “Oh, God.”
“Go,” Fernando said. “There’s a car outside.” She got around the table and took half a step back. “Don’t worry about the bill.”
“Thank you,” she whispered and bounded over to kiss his cheek before rushing away. “Thank you.”
What was she doing? Whatever it was, whatever had happened, it was none of her business. Still, in the back of the car, speeding through the city streets, all kinds of scenarios rushed through her mind.
Damnit. Whatever happened, it must’ve happened fast. Wouldn’t Darroch have called the restaurant? God, the Breckenridges were close, all of them. What if it was one of the kids? Buoy? Darroch wouldn’t be thinking straight, none of them would be. What heartache, what worry, their kindness didn’t deserve to be repaid by tragedy.
She leaped out of the car and ran into the hospital. Only as she reached the desk in the mobbed emergency department did it occur to her that finding the Breckenridges may not be easy.
Taking up space, she stood dumb for at least a minute.
“Can I help you with something?” asked a man on the other side of the desk. “Are you sick?”
“No, I’m looking for someone.”
Not very descriptive.
“You family?”
“No, I’m—”
“We don’t give out patient information to anyone except family.”
Good rule that made a lot of sense. Though it left her stuck and—a feminine laugh cut through the rest of the noise. The why was unimportant, but the woman beyond the admissions desk ignited her hope again.
“Freya Dere,” she called out, louder than she’d meant to because more than one person turned. Luckily, one of them was the woman she needed. “You’re Freya Dere of Children’s Connection.”
“Yes,” the woman said, coming around the desk. “I’ve got this, Rufio.” The admin guy wandered away. “Do you have a child in need of medical care?”
“No.” She shook her head. “No, this isn’t about ChilConn.” She didn’t think. Though Buoy’s little smile chased her. “You don’t know me. I’m Savanna Mayden—”
“Oh, God.” Spiked with shocked concern, Freya came rushing around the desk to take her hand. “Why aren’t you upstairs with Darroch?”
Alice must’ve mentioned her… and her connection to Darroch. So much for flying under the radar.
What was the point of denying it when concern had to be written all over her face?
“I just—where will I find him?”
“Third floor west, room three nineteen. Do you need me to—”
“No, I’ll find him. Thank you.”
All she needed was to be pointed in the right direction. The elevator took too long, so she vaulted up the stairs instead.
Third floor, left or right? Choosing right, it was disconcerting not to see anyone in the corridor.
Light signaled the space opening out to a nurses’ station. Two women sat there, not so pleased to see her, but she kept going and they didn’t stop her. Fourteen, fifteen, left, right, eighteen, she stopped.
The next door was slightly ajar. The susurration of voices, male, came from in there. The blinds were down on the nearest window. This was family.
Why hadn’t that occurred to her?
No one called her. This wasn’t her business. She sat in the middle seat in a row of chairs against the corridor wall. Intruding would be wrong, barging in on the private scene would be the epitome of insensitive. Someone would come out eventually and she’d offer support. Not condolences. No. Whatever happened, they couldn’t be saying goodbye. It didn’t bear thinking about.
The floor was quiet, the lights low. Maybe it was a floor reserved for VIPs. Further down the corridor, light glowed from some of the windows by doors. Were they private rooms? A door, a long window, was that a whole room? Quite big. Weren’t hospitals supposed to be bustling? Desperate for space?
The Breckenridges admitted donating to the hospitals in the city. And if the situation was serious enough, it might even make the news.
A couple came out of a different room and disappeared around the corner.
A half hour went by. Was she crazy to be sitting out there? The Breckenridges had been kind to her, supported her. Being on hand was the least she could do.
As she inhaled and her head turned, she saw it. Saw him. Entertaining himself, little Buoy spun into view in the crack of the door. She almost screamed with joy. The littlest one was okay, suiting himself, hopping, jumping, spinning. Joy filled her cheeks.
He stopped and froze, then tilted until his little eyes blinked to hers. She raised just her fingers from her knee in a semi-wave. Without a word, he flipped a one-eighty and re-appeared with a tiny superhero backpack.
The door didn’t move as he squeezed his little body through the gap.
“Hey, sweetie,” she whispered, suddenly aware of the echoing peace of the medical halls. “How are you doing?”
“Color with me.” He pulled a couple of books from his backpack and dragged out a bunch of bright markers. “Can we share the frogs? I saved it…”
Flipping through the pages, seeking the picture, he showed a flurry of others already completed.
“You’re an amazing artist,” she said, sinking down to sit on the floor by him.
He found the frogs page. There were two of them on adjoining lily pads.
“You do this one.” He handed her a blue pen and pointed at the closest frog. “I’ll do the big one.”
“Okay.”
Only a few seconds went by before a stern male voice intruded.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Wow, tall, severe, whichever Breckenridge this was, he didn’t kid around.
“Sav-nah is my friend.”
“Sav-nah?” he quizzed.
“Savanna!”
Alice’s exclamation brought her immediately to her feet. Thank goodness she was okay.
“Oh, Alice, I’m so sorry.”
“My girl.” Alice swept her hair from her face to hold it in both hands. “We couldn’t find you.”
“Couldn’t find me?” She scanned left, right. Men, a lot of them, with one glaring omission. “Oh, God…” The words slipped out under her breath as clarity iced her veins. “Where’s Darroch?”
“Savanna—”
“She doesn’t know,” someone said.
Except she did, not right until that moment, but she did now.
Feet moved and she pushed through bodies until she was in the room. Yes, it was big, one bed with a curtain partially pulled around it, cold, sterile, everywhere but there. Him. Darroch. In bed, head elevated, a tube in his arm. Eyes closed. Was he breathing?
“He’s okay,” Alice said, putting an arm around her while rubbing the other. “He’s going to be okay.”
“He doesn’t look it.” Rushing to his side, she stroked his hair from his forehead leaving her hand there. “He’s warm. What happened?”
“We don’t know exactly.” Benedict, she didn’t have to tear her eyes away to identify him. “He was found in the alley by BHQ, unconscious, blunt force trauma to the head.”
“Your smart mouth,” she murmured, pushing to her tiptoes to rest her lips on his. “Anything to get out of paying for dinner.”
“There are drugs in his system, keeping him out.”
“They say he’ll wake up soon.” Not soon enough. “All we can do is wait.”
She kissed him once, and again, stroking his forehead and cheek. “Gentleman.”
“She better be the girlfriend, or we’re all just standing here while she assaults him.”
The speaker thought that was bad? Only straining every ounce of restraint prevented her from crawling into bed with him.
“Darroch belongs to her,” Alice said, rubbing her back and easing her down into a chair by hers.
Her hand drifted to Darroch’s. Still fixated on his face, her other one sought Alice’s and brought it to the bed to join hers and his, locking the three of them together. Whatever happened, they’d need to wait until he woke to get answers.