Chapter 22 #2
“You’re better than a football player, Trent. You’re a kind man.” Dylan spoke as if he were an old man who’d learned life’s hard lessons and Charline almost cried when she saw the tears in Dylan’s eyes.
She leaned in and gave him a hug.
“Hey, I’m supposed to be cheering you up. What the hell—I mean heck—is going on?” Trent said.
Dylan laughed and she thought her chest would explode with warmth like an overheated balloon, swelling with pleasure. God, she wanted nothing more than to hug Trent right then, in all his boyishness, and squeeze him with all her heart.
She found herself staring at him longingly as he chatted with the boy about his studies. Trent gave her a wink and squeezed her hand, no doubt noticing her ridiculous mooning look.
Get over it, Charline. She knew he was good with kids, sensed it even without being told. So when she’d called the nurse, Charline wasn’t surprised that she’d sung his praises.
Another knock sounded on the doorjamb and she saw the administrator standing there: Polly Baker, a handsome fifty-something woman with icy blond hair and an easy smile.
She wondered what the woman was doing here on a Sunday, when the jolt of understanding how powerful the draw of superstar Trent Lockheed really was hit her.
Polly normally had a polished worldly air about her but now there was a telltale flicker of excitement in the woman.
“Hello, Trent. Welcome back.” She extended her hand as she walked into the room. Trent rose from his spot on Dylan’s bed.
“Hello, Dylan. You look like you’re doing well today,” she added. Then she turned to Charline.
“Good to see you again Dr. Morneau. I understand congratulations are in order.”
Charline nodded and, noticing Dylan’s puzzled expression, she said to him, “Trent and I are an item.” Then she did something she never did, she winked.
Trent laughed and put an arm around her.
“You’re more than an item,” Baker said. “They’re engaged to be married,” she said to Dylan. His eyes widened and he smiled big.
Charline rustled his small tuft of hair with a familiar longing fondness. She’d become attached to him because he’d been a patient off and on for so long, in and out for too many surgeries to count.
“I’m glad I caught up with you both. One of the nurses alerted me to the unexpected visit.
” She threw an accusing look at Charline, but went on with a smile.
“I wanted to invite you both to attend our Christmas party and charity ball. We’ll have festivities here in the children’s playroom and then the ball downstairs in the atrium.
It’s next Saturday, December 21st. Please tell me you’ll be there. ”
“I plan to attend,” Charline started to say, then realized it was all wrong. She was supposed to be engaged to Trent. She shouldn’t be going to the ball without him, should she?
“We’re looking forward to it,” Trent added with his smooth southern charm in full force. He reached out a hand and shook Baker’s, effectively dismissing her. “Thank you for coming in to invite us.”
“That’s wonderful. The kids and patrons will be thrilled to see you. Both.” She gave Charline a nod and left.
Trent returned his attention to Dylan, but a nurse appeared in the door to shoo them away.
“We’ll see you next week, buddy. Stay good and keep smiling,” Trent said while the boy gave him a one-armed hug.
Charline gave the boy an extra warm hug before leaving. With Trent holding his hand at her back in what felt like a possessive branding, they walked back to the playroom to find the kids being taken back to their rooms and Jamie, Violet, and their two young boys waiting for them.
Trent said, “We made a date for the Shriners Charity ball next Saturday. How about joining us?”
“Next Saturday night? That’s the night of the Christmas party at the Boston Children’s Memorial Hospital. The team committed us to going to that one. It’s a command performance, my man.”
“It’s all right—I can go to the Shriners Charity ball by myself—”
“No way in hell,” Trent said without hesitation. “I’ll talk to the coach. The two places aren’t that far away. We can go to both. Maybe I can talk the coach into having you and some of the other guys go to both parties with us. It’s good for the kids.”
“Good for the soul, too,” Jamie said.
“Count me in,” Violet said, nodding her head. “Now we’ve got to get home.”
She drove them back to Trent’s building in the premature dark of the evening, cheered by the city’s holiday lights.
There was little traffic and they made no small talk.
It was hard to force herself to drop him off without going upstairs to his penthouse.
She pulled inside the garage and around to the elevator to let him out in relative privacy.
Hard because the pull of him went deeper than the surface charisma.
He wasn’t the self-centered, shallow superstar she’d first pegged him.
Today’s visit to the clinic made that clear.
He loved those kids. He’d given a piece of himself to them—especially to Dylan.
She’d been surprised to find out Trent had first met Dylan, who’s fate hadn’t been very rosy, through Make-A-Wish.
She shut off the engine and turned to him.
“You’ve known Dylan longer than I have.”
He nodded. He remembered the first time he saw the boy not too long after his burn injury. It had been physically painful and heart-wrenching. “But you’ve done so much more for him. He’s come a long way. When did you first meet him?”
“I did my first skin graft on him a year ago, then another last month. He’s had orthopedic surgery as well. I assisted. His family assented to using new treatments using the latest gene therapy and genetic manipulation technology to help heal his tissue injury.”
“You’re a real hero. You know that?” The vibration in the timbre of his voice made her think his words were authentic rather than mocking
He leaned in and she anticipated his kiss with a quickening in her pulse, like she was faultlessly programmed.
His kiss was tender, loving, though she had little experience with loving kisses from men.
Not since her last undergrad romance too long ago to credit.
He pulled back before she wanted him to, before she could hold onto him.
“I would say I don’t deserve a woman like you, but then you’re not mine. Not for real.” His words were quiet, his smile false.
“I’m yours for now.” She felt compelled to reassure him. “You deserve a woman who will love you and devote herself to you, as much as any man I’ve ever known.”
He scoffed and turned away, putting a hand on his door handle.
“This was a good break for me. But starting tomorrow it’s serious business until the season’s over. I’ll be clocking in at six a.m. and staying until the coffee runs out and the janitors kick me out.”
“Is that your polite way of telling me you won’t have time to see me? I’ll still need to administer the shots, take measurements, run the tests—”
“I know.” He turned back to face her. “And no fun and games.”
She heaved a sigh to calm her jittering nerves, feeling a lot like she’d just been jolted. She threw on her professional smile. If he could do it, she could. “It’s okay. We had no business engaging in the fun and games anyway.”
“Hey.” He took her face in his hands. “We’re all entitled to fun some times.
Even you, Dr. Serious. You act like a superwoman, but I know you’re made of flesh and blood.
” His voice lowered and his pitch spoke to that longing need inside her.
But she ruthlessly shut it down because he was right.
It was time to step back and get serious—for both of them.
She snorted. “Don’t worry about me. You take care of yourself. Make sure you get your sleep in between the nonstop football preparation.”
“Sleep is part of the prep. That’s why I can’t have you in my bed anymore.” He gave her a convincing regretful smile. He leaned in and kissed her again, this time quick on the lips, like a last pop of sugar before a strict diet. Then he was gone.
It was Tuesday December 17th, six days away from the Minutemen’s Monday Night Football game.
The game where they could clinch the playoffs.
Even if Trent hadn’t reminded Charline frequently about this fact, she would have known from the buzz of anticipation around the University Research Center office and labs.
Even her research subjects were excited.
They all asked her about Trent. Some straight out, some shyly, some obliquely, all dying with curiosity about how ready he was to play. She reassured them all.
“I feel like pasting a note to my forehead announcing that Trent will be fine for game day,” she said to Wendy as they drew blood from the morning’s dozen appointments. They tested the subjects’ blood for cholesterol using an electronic meter, then labeled the vials.
Wendy laughed.
“You’re so lucky. I mean, think about it. To have such an exciting man as Trent Lockheed all to yourself. What a dreamboat he is.” She dipped her head and averted her eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to gush. I mean, it’s none of my business. I’m sorry—”
“Wendy, don’t worry. You’re fine. I am .
. . lucky.” The last words, having to agree that she was lucky to have Trent, left her with the nasty taste of a lie and the wistful notion that she wished it were true.
A double blow to her good spirits, but she smiled at Wendy anyway because the woman deserved nothing less from her.
Wendy was Charline’s best and most trusted worker. Maybe even a friend.
Her phone rang then—her cell phone, not the office phone. She slipped it from her lab coat pocket and checked the screen. It was Suzette. There was no way Suzette would call her unless it was important, so she tapped the screen to answer.
“Is everything all right?” Meeting Wendy’s concerned eyes briefly, Charline moved away from the lab table toward her office, but stopped short when she heard Suzette’s response.