Chapter 4 Missing Visitor
The next night, Jamison Edwards found himself staring at the clock.
He had spent the day pretending to work.
Pretending to focus.
Pretending he wasn't waiting for Tessa.
The truth irritated him.
He was a man who negotiated multi-million-dollar contracts before breakfast.
A man who had built an empire from nothing, who was feared in boardrooms across the country.
And yet here he was.
Watching the door. Listening for her knock.
Waiting for nurse Tessa to come read to him.
But the door never opened.
By midnight, he knew she wasn't coming.
A strange disappointment settled over him.
He told himself it was understandable.
After all, she had every right to be embarrassed.
For two weeks she had poured pieces of herself into a room she believed held an unconscious patient.
She had cried.
Prayed.
Shared secrets.
Read books.
Told of her heartbreak.
Only to discover he had been awake the whole time.
Listening.
To every single word.
Jamison rubbed a hand across his jaw.
"You handled that terribly."
The empty room didn't disagree.
Meanwhile, on the fourth floor, Tessa Johnson was avoiding room 323 like it contained a contagious disease.
It had been four days.
Four days since she had opened the door and found those intoxicating blue eyes staring back at her.
Four days since she realized he had heard everything.
Every story, every prayer and embarrassing moment through her tears.
The memory alone made her want to crawl under a rock.
"Tessa."
She looked up.
Lizzie stood in the nurses' station doorway.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You've said that six times tonight but keep zoning out."
"I'm still fine."
Lizzie folded her arms.
"Tessa."
"What?"
"When was the last time you visited Mr. Handsome Billionaire?"
Tessa nearly dropped her pen.
"What?"
Lizzie grinned.
"Oh, you didn't know?"
Tessa stared.
"Know what?"
"Girl, that man owns half of Atlanta."
Tessa blinked.
"Who are you talking about?"
"Jamison Edwards."
Lizzie looked genuinely shocked.
"You really don't know who he is?"
"No."
Lizzie grabbed her phone and pulled up an article.
The screen showed Jamison standing beside a skyscraper project.
It was a business magazine cover.
Then there was the development announcement and a charity fundraiser.
Photos of him in tailored suits looking powerful and intimidating.
Tessa's eyes widened.
"That's him?"
"That's him."
"Oh my goodness."
Lizzie laughed.
"Apparently he's worth millions."
Tessa stared at his photo.
The man in the article looked nothing like the man she had been reading to.
This version looked untouchable.
Cold.
Sophisticated.
Dangerous.
The Jamison she knew was quiet.
Still.
Lonely.
Trying to heal.
"Well," Lizzie said carefully.
"That explains why he had no visitors."
Tessa looked up.
"What do you mean?"
"Men like that usually don't have real friends."
The words lingered long after Lizzie walked away.
Because deep down, Tessa knew she was right.
On her unexpected two-day break, Tessa tried very hard not to think about Jamison.
It didn't work.
Saturday morning she cleaned her apartment.
Thought about him.
Saturday afternoon she grocery shopped.
Thought about him.
Saturday evening she watched a movie.
Thought about him.
Sunday wasn't any better.
Finally, frustrated with herself, she forced herself out of the house.
The weather was beautiful.
Atlanta sunshine.
Blue skies.
Warm breeze.
She drove to Piedmont Park and spent two hours walking.
No scrubs, hospital or heartbreak.
Just fresh air.
Later that afternoon she used the spa gift card her mother had given her for her birthday to get a..
Massage.
Facial.
Pedicure and Manicure.
The entire experience felt luxurious and completely necessary for any working woman.
Which was exactly why she needed it.
When she returned home that evening, she looked in the mirror.
For the first time in a month, she really smiled at her reflection.
Not that she looked a little different.
But because she felt different.
Lighter.
A little bit happier and much stronger.
Unfortunately...there was still curiosity lingering about Jamison Edwards.
Monday night arrived.
Tessa returned to work refreshed.
Her coworkers immediately noticed.
"Look at you glowing," Denise teased.
Tessa rolled her eyes.
"Leave me alone."
"Did anybody call?"
"No."
"Text?"
"No."
"Fine man?"
"No."
Lizzie appeared.
"Room 323?"
Tessa threw a pen at her.
Both women laughed.
By 11:15 p.m., Tessa found herself carrying her lunch and book toward the elevator.
She told herself she simply wanted closure.
Wanted to see if he was okay and to say goodbye properly.
Nothing more.
Absolutely nothing more.
The elevator doors opened on the third floor.
Tessa walked down the hallway.
Heart pounding.
She reached room 323.
Took a breath.
Opened the door.
And immediately wished she hadn't.
A man and woman were making out enthusiastically in the hospital bed.
The woman shrieked.
The man yelped.
Tessa slammed the door shut.
"Oh my God."
Her face turned bright red.
She practically sprinted back toward the elevator.
"What is wrong with people?"
Five minutes later she cornered Lizzie at the nurses' station.
“Where is he? I have to find him."
Lizzie blinked.
"Who are you talking about darling?"
"Please."
"Tessa."
"Please."
Lizzie laughed.
"My my, somebody’s sprung."
"I am not."
"You absolutely are."
Tessa folded her arms.
"Are you going to help me or not?"
Still smiling, Lizzie pulled up the records.
A few clicks later she found the information.
"Released this morning."
Tessa's heart sank.
"Oh."
Lizzie scanned further.
"Interesting."
"What?"
"The doctor's notes."
She read silently.
Then smiled.
"What?"
Lizzie turned the screen.
"This patient’s recovery appears to have accelerated significantly after transfer from ICU. Emotional engagement and positive response patterns noted despite continued unconscious presentation."
Tessa frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Lizzie gave her a look.
"It means somebody had a reason to wake up."
Tessa's cheeks warmed.
"Stop it Lizzie."
"I'm serious."
Lizzie pointed at another note.
"No visitors during admission."
Then she winked.
"Except for you."
Tessa rolled her eyes.
But her heart squeezed.
Because suddenly she understood something.
Maybe Jamison had been lonely too and maybe that was why he'd listened to her.
Maybe that was why he hadn't told her that he was awake.
Maybe...
No.
She needed to stop.
Men complicate things.
Especially rich handsome men with blue eyes that could have any woman he wanted.
The next two days passed quietly.
No phone calls.
No flowers.
No mysterious billionaire sightings.
Everything returned to normal.
Or at least it should have.
Yet Tessa still found herself glancing toward elevators.
Toward hallways and opened doors.
Just in case he showed up.
Which was ridiculous. Why would he ever come back here unless he absolutely had too?
Jamison probably forgot about her the second he left the hospital.
People like him lived in different worlds than her.
Worlds filled with private jets and luxury penthouses.
Not fourth-floor nurses with student loans and grocery budgets.
By Wednesday afternoon she had finally convinced herself to let it go.
Then the break room door opened.
Conversation stopped.
Tessa looked up.
And forgot how breathing worked.
Jamison Edwards stood in the doorway.
Tall.
Powerful.
Healthy and Gorgeous.
Wearing a charcoal-gray suit that probably cost more than her monthly rent, with the smell of expensive cologne that lingered in the hospital halls.
He held the most beautiful bouquet of red and white roses she had ever seen.
The room fell silent with anticipation of what’s to come.
Every nurse looked between them.
Jamison's eyes found Tessa immediately.
His expression softened.
Tessa realized he wasn't intimidating at all.
At least not to her.
He walked directly toward her.
The roses seemed enormous.
"Hello Tessa."
Her mouth went dry.
"Hi."
Absolutely brilliant.
She sounded like she'd forgotten every word in the English language.
Jamison smiled.
Not a business smile.
Not a magazine-cover smile.
A smile meant only for her.
"These are for you, beautiful."
Tessa accepted the flowers carefully.
“Thank you. They're lovely, she blushed.”
"They don't compare to you."
Every nurse in the room immediately began to inhale in awe.
Including Lizzie.
Especially…Lizzie.
Tessa felt her cheeks heat up.
"Thank you."
Jamison glanced around the room.
Then back at her.
"I wanted to thank you properly."
"You don't have to."
"I do."
The sincerity in his voice made her heart flutter.
Jamison shifted slightly.
Then asked the question he'd rehearsed three separate times in the parking lot.
"Would you have dinner with me on your next day off?"
Tessa froze.
Her brain completely abandoned her.
Words disappeared from her thoughts.
Everything disappeared except those blue eyes looking at her hopefully.
"Excuse me, Tessa would love to."
The entire room turned.
Lizzie grinned shamelessly.
Jamison laughed.
A deep rich laugh.
Tessa wanted to disappear.
"Lizzie."
"What?"
"I can answer for myself."
"You weren't."
The nurses burst out laughing.
Even Jamison looked amused.
Finally Tessa managed a nod.
"I'd like that."
The answer visibly pleased him.
"Good then, it's a date."
He reached into his pocket.
“I need your number."
Tessa opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Her mind went blank again.
She couldn't remember her own phone number.
"Tessa's number is—"
"LIZZIE!"
Too late.
Lizzie happily rattled off every digit.
The room erupted in laughter again.
Jamison laughed so hard he had to shake his head.
"Thank you, Lizzie."
"Anytime handsome."
Tessa covered her face.
She would never recover from this humiliation.
Jamison smiled warmly.
"I'll text you."
Then his expression softened again.
"Thank you for reading to me."
The room grew quiet.
Emotion flashed between them.
Private.
Meaningful.
Real.
Tessa swallowed.
"You're welcome."
For a moment neither moved.
Neither wanted to.
Finally Jamison stepped back.
"I'll see you soon."
Then he walked away smiling.
The moment the door closed behind him, chaos erupted.
Screaming.
Laughing.
Questions.
Demands for details.
Tessa sat frozen in her chair clutching roses.
Her hands shook.
Her heart raced.
And somewhere in Atlanta, Jamison Edwards sat in his car smiling like a man who had finally found something worth being nervous about.