Chapter 9
Chloe: Jax, did you know someone is selling your cup online?
Jax: Unfortunately yes.
Teddy: I tried to tell him it was an inappropriate thing to donate to charity, but he wouldn’t listen.
Chase: That’s so unhygienic, dude.
Jax: It was stolen from my locker!
Chloe: I might buy it.
Chloe: For important scientific reasons and such.
Teddy: Don’t blame you at all.
Zeke: Excuse me?
Chloe: That wasn’t me. Diego had my phone.
Zeke: Our six year old son wants to buy Jax’s cup for science?
Chloe: I know. Crazy, right?
CHASE
“Why did you even come to my apartment?” Pepper asks, her grim expression trained on the thick glass window on the opposite side of the harshly lit hospital corridor.
“Hmm?” I drift slowly back into the room, having been whirring over the latest kill switch report.
Somehow, in the last week, seven shipments of defense tech have gone awry, veering rapidly off course in the Middle East. We’ve killed them all, rendering the tech unusable, but it’s still troubling that this issue is becoming so rife.
“Oh, I came to tell you that you’ve got the day off tomorrow, so you’re spending it with me. ”
“What?”
“Your rant about shoes and fashion shows? Not exactly subtle. It took me one phone call to find out you’re working on my mother’s account at the Abbot Foundation.
” I cast my palm down my jawline, feeling the scratch of stubble that needs trimming.
I can feel Pepper glaring into the side of my face, but I don’t look at her.
“So wait, how do you two actually know each other?” The teenager with shock-pink hair—her sister, Sunny, as it turns out—bounces a confused gaze between us.
A nurse rushes past in blue print scrubs, and the faint scent of antibacterial permeates the air. I shift in the plastic chair, lifting a conspicuous brow Pepper’s way. The apples of her cheeks flush with a warm coppery tone and she breaks out of my snare.
“We work together,” she explains to the girl, lifting a thumb nail to chew on it anxiously. Her dark eyes scatter between the people milling around in the waiting room, very much on edge with her knee jogging.
Without really thinking about it, I reach over and take her hand, pulling it down from her mouth to her thigh and using it to stop the frantic bouncing.
Her chocolate eyes flare wide, slamming back to me.
For a moment I’m struck by how small and delicate her fingers feel cloaked beneath mine.
Something foreign crackles in the air, warmth flooding up my arm from her skin.
The millisecond after a small voice in my brain exclaims how inappropriate this is, we are interrupted and jump apart.
“Chase?”
We both turn our sheepish attention to the blonde woman before us in a white doctor’s coat. I clear my throat, holding my fist to my mouth, and then stand, Pepper following suit.
“Nadine, thank you for coming.” I stoop to place a polite kiss on her cheek and then draw back.
“Of course.” She smiles professionally, her face a picture of well-meaning concern. “How is your mother doing?”
Unease slices me in two, but I paste on my signature smile and offer her a little shrug. “She’s great.”
Nadine has been one of our family doctors for a good decade, and doesn’t look fooled. But instead of saying anything, she turns to reach out a hand to Pepper, who now stands at my side. “I’m Dr. Margyle, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Pepper,” she responds and takes Nadine’s hand after a moment of hesitation. Before I turn my attention away, I catch her throwing a speculative glance my way.
“How is he?” I ask, ignoring Pepper’s curiosity.
“He’s okay. His left hip is fractured and he will need some help and rehab to get back on his feet.” Nadine gives me a stern look very apt for a doctor. “At this age, patients who don’t rehab properly might never regain full function.”
“I’ll see to it that he gets the best care.” I nod, the storm of guilt that has been swirling around my stomach since the old man fell weighing heavy.
“He’s a little disorientated, so it might be helpful to see some familiar faces, if you want to go in?”
“Er…” Pepper rolls her lips inward and then scrunches her nose. “I’m not sure that would be a good idea. He kind of hates me.”
“Really?” Nadine blinks and then glances down at the tablet in her hand. “That’s odd, he’s been asking for you. I assumed you were family.”
“For us?” Sunny peers around her older sister’s legs.
“Pepper and Sunny?” Nadine confirms, scrolling down Mr. Clay’s notes.
“What the fuck?” Pepper whispers, almost too quietly to hear.
“Come on, he can’t be that bad.” I place a hand at the small of her back and guide her gently forward, feeling the resistance in her posture before she moves.
“Easy for you to say,” Sunny snipes from behind and I offer her a sly wink over my shoulder.
“I’ll meet you both in there, give me a second.
” I tilt my head toward the room we know Mr. Clay to be in and hang back.
I turn my back on Pepper and Sunny as they tentatively head for the room, addressing Nadine quietly.
“Can you send me a summary of everything he needs when you have a second, and recommend some people?”
“Sure.” The woman’s slim blond brows pitch forward, and she also lowers her voice amongst the beeping and whirring sounds that fill every hospital. “How is your mom really doing?”
I hitch my cheek and slide my hands into my pockets with a sigh, my gaze drifting to the map emblazoned on the wall behind her and my mind sucked back to the last time I saw my mother. Tucked up in bed with the drapes drawn and no interest in getting up.
“She’s been better.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Can I help? I know a fantastic psychotherapist, she—”
“No,” I say a little firmer than I intend to. “It’s…Emily is back from Milan, so I’m sure that will cheer her up.”
Dr. Margyle opens her mouth, and then hesitates. She closes it again and then glances down at her tablet, clicking the lock button. “Well,” she says, finally meeting my gaze again. “Please give her my regards.”
“I will, thank you.”
The unguarded pause, the flash in her eyes as she casts them down, and the slight ruby tinge to her cheekbones—what emotion is that? Before I have time to consider it further, she nods and strides away down the corridor, the tails of her lab coat flapping behind her.
Shaking my head, I check my watch and stifle a yawn. I’ve been awake since 4 a.m., and we’re now close to midnight. Resigning to get this over with, I march into Mr. Clay’s room and then pause in total bemusement.
“You asked to see what was under the bowl!” Pepper fumes loudly, her fists wedged on top of hips shapely enough to try and pull my brain in a different direction entirely.
“All you do is cause trouble,” Mr. Clay barks back just as angrily, despite being hooked up to about twenty machines. “I’m going to sue you all into oblivion the moment I recover!”
I catch Pepper’s searing glare at that latest remark and dip my head, pinching the bridge of my nose, feeling the thrum of a headache looming.
“Okay, enough!” I announce to the room at large, causing three sets of eyes to zoom back my way.
“It’s late, and you need to get some rest, Mr. Clay.
” I walk over to his bedside cabinet and pick up a scrap of paper with his intake form copied onto it, then reach into the one pocket of my suit for a pen.
“You’ll be staying here for at least a couple of days, so write down what you need and Pepper will collect it from your apartment.
” The stubborn woman in question’s mouth pops open in outrage, but I cut her off before she can speak, using my boardroom voice.
“Yes, you will. Unless you want to handle a law suit at the end of this?” I hiss that last part pointedly to her under my breath, and she reluctantly concedes with a scowl.
“I don’t need any help,” Mr. Clay chews out, attempting to fold his arms over the network of wires stuck to him.
“Well tough, because you’re getting it, sir.” I hold out the paper and pen to him, watching as he reluctantly raises his steel-colored eyes to it beneath brambly eyebrows. “And we’re all going to play nice and no one is going to get sued.”
“Fine,” he grumbles, snatching them from me.
***
“Mr. Walker you have—”
Tessa’s crackle on the intercom built into my desk cuts off as the door crashes open.
“Uncle Chase!”
A flash of dark hair comes barreling toward me, all big goofy smiles with one front tooth missing—that’s new. I barely have time to roll my chair back before little Macey is scrabbling up into my lap.
“Woah, kid. What are you doing here?” I laugh as she plops her hands onto my face.
Yeesh, why are kids’ fingers always sticky?
“We went to the dentist and she gave me a big wollypop!” Bright, icy blue eyes bug at me like this is the best news ever. That explains the sticky fingers.
“No way! What color?” I ask enthusiastically, but I can already tell from the blue hue of her little tongue. I glance up at a slightly harassed-looking Mia pushing a two-chair stroller through the door.
“Blue!” Macey bellows, even though she’s right in front of my face.
“The best kind!” I stand, taking her with me and throwing her over my shoulder so she’s dangling down my back shrieking and giggling. “Hey Mia, everything okay?”
I fold her into a hug and she clings on a little tighter than I would expect. “Mia is not here right now, just over-stimulated Mom,” she mumbles into my chest, making me laugh.
“Mommy!” Macey squeals, as if to prove her point.
Letting Mia go, I slide Macey back over my shoulder and set her on her feet. “There’s a candy bar in my desk, but I’m not telling you where.” I wink at her conspiratorially and her eyes go wide before she races over to it.
“Oh good, more sugar.” Mia creases her brow, blowing a strand of dark hair that’s fallen out of her ponytail off her face.