Chapter Eight
Noah
Sailor’s attitude confused me. Every woman I knew would kill for a chance to stay in a suite at the Ritz. Fuck, I’d spent enough nights there with dates that the staff knew me and what I required in my room.
Honoring my promise to see the nurses punished felt important, so I made sure to have a meeting with Dr. Hogan before I said goodbye to Dad. I needed to spend the afternoon with Giovanni.
“Have we found anything new?” I asked, scanning the wreckage of what once was my childhood home.
Gio grunted. “Looks like their munitions were homemade so there wouldn't be anything to trace.”
“Well, that figures.” With my hands on my hips, I stared at the sky. I should have been looking up at the ceiling under my bedroom floor, but instead, there was nothing there. “Anyone known for doing this type of thing?”
At his head shake, I sighed. The back of the house was mostly intact, but it was severely damaged by water. The cold seemed to seep into my bones, and I resisted the urge to hug myself for warmth.
“How is my sister holding up?”
“You mean after she fell apart?” When I nodded, he continued. “She’s frantically worried that you or your father will die. Now that it’s become clear someone is after us, she’s afraid that person took out a hit.”
A scenario I’d pondered myself, but hadn't found anything to suggest its validity. “I haven't heard of anything.”
“No, me neither, but that’s not enough to calm her mind.”
“I’ve got an empty suite at the Ritz-Carlton if she wants to move in next door to Dad.”
Gio squinted over at me. “I’d rather keep my fiancée in my house, thanks. Why do you have an empty suite?”
“I thought I would let Sailor stay there while she’s looking after Dad, but she freaked out when I made the offer."
“Were you being a demanding asshole when you made this quote-unquote offer?” When I glared daggers at him, he said, “What? Like I’m wrong."
“No, I was genuinely trying to be nice. I’ve seen her at her most vulnerable these last few days, and what I saw made an impression on me. She actually cares about Dad and his health, and she’s kind of a loner.”
Gio folded his arms. “In what way?”
“In the way that she has no family, and her coworkers spend too much time gossiping about her.” I’d heard the last thing they were saying; it was about something covering her stomach. Was she the type of person to hide a tattoo?
“That sucks.”
“So, yeah, I was trying to do a nice thing, but she blew up at me and told me not to waste my money on her.”
“She’s an odd duck, for sure, but I think she’s been forced to form an icy exterior. And if what you say is true, then how would she even know to accept basic kindness?”
Finally sick of standing in the cold, I walked to the limo. “You’re probably right. I was going to offer again when Dad is discharged tomorrow.”
Gio followed me, picking his way across the rubble. “How will you word it to convince her? Because we both know you can ooze charm when you want to.”
“Just that I’d feel more comfortable if Dad has twenty-four-hour care for the first few days out of the hospital. I plan on tugging her heartstrings where it comes to him.”
“You won’t persuade her if you make it sound like it’s for her sake, that’s for sure. In the meantime, we’d better lay low for a while. I’ve got Brennan making the deal for us, and then we’re all gonna pretend we went to Aruba or some shit.”
Shivering as I turned up the heater in the back, I said, “I’d love to go to Aruba for real and beat this stupid fucking cold weather.”
“We could, but then how do we keep dear old Benito in the care of someone overqualified?”
“No way on earth Sailor would agree to come along.” Shaking my head, I added, “Never in my life have I had to convince a woman to allow me to frivolously spend money on her.”
“You’re not used to someone with morals, Noah. That's the only reason she seems so foreign to you.”
He had a point; I dealt with unscrupulous bastards on a daily basis, and I wasn't used to someone standing by their principles. Or, frankly, anyone actually having any.
I asked our driver to head to Grandview, and sat back to get comfortable. “Okay, I get that, but I do want to give her this after what she went through. It’s my fault she had to be in the hospital in the first place, and that gave the nurses reasons to speculate and sling mud.”
“I can’t imagine why anyone would gossip about their straitlaced coworker being in the company of a mafia don.”
The back of my neck prickled at his sarcasm. Had I really made things worse for her? “Are you saying I should drop it?”
“If she balks a second time, I think you should, yeah.”
“Well, shit.”
Why did I care so much now when I basically hated her a few days ago?
I suppose I could say it was guilt, because that emotion most definitely overwhelmed me.
An innocent woman had gotten caught up in this war between two families.
One of us had no idea what we’d done wrong while the other one seemed hell-bent on punishing us for existing.
I made a point of avoiding Sailor’s room when I visited my father throughout the evening.
Unfortunately, I now felt pulled in her direction when she wanted so little to do with me.
For the night at least, I could give her a break from the rumors and other bullshit circulating around the nurses’ station.
Come morning, though, I would ask her if she’d been the subject of any more gossip and meet with Richard Hogan again if I had to.
I paid the man well to look the other way, but this time I needed him to be focused and present.
By morning, I was sleep-deprived and irritable. Staying in a luxury hotel room should have been enough to ensure a perfect night’s sleep, but I was plagued by bad dreams wherein my father was taken from me with a bullet to the heart.
I was fairly certain I would always worry more for him than myself, but my gut told me he was the actual target in this shadow attack.
Checking again for any signs of a hit going through the back channels, I sipped some coffee and finally turned off the news.
Dad would be released today, and I made sure the hotel staff knew to have his room ready for him.
With any luck, Sailor would check in to the adjoining suite, and I might be able to breathe a sigh of relief for the first time in a week.
To my surprise, she was in his room when I arrived, wearing her hair down for the first time since I’d met her. I’d never realized just how long her straight blonde hair was, and for some reason, I couldn't stop staring at it.
“Good morning, son.”
Blinking, I looked over at Dad. “Morning, Dad. Sailor.”
“Good morning, Noah,” she responded quietly.
She stood by the window, crossing her arms defensively as I was inevitably drawn into watching her. “How’s our patient this morning?"
When I focused back on him, she relaxed. “Doing so well, he’s getting released.”
“That’s great news. How are you doing?”
Reflexively, she touched the bruised lump on her forehead. “I still get headaches, but I’m otherwise well.”
Nodding, I slipped my hands in my pockets. Why was this so fucking awkward?
“Well, son, I’m sure you’ve cracked the whip over there at the RC.”
Grinning at his setup, I replied, “As a matter of fact, they’re fixing up your room right now. I’m just worried that Dr. Webster wants twenty-four-hour care for you and we’ve only got the aides to take shifts.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sailor open her mouth before closing it back.
“I mean, you can’t reasonably go from the best care you’ve ever gotten down to nothing better than home health aides.”
Neither of us had any problem with the aides, but I needed to twist the knife far enough that Sailor would practically volunteer to stay with us.
“It’s not like you have a home to go back to.” With my palms outstretched, I sat on the edge of Dad’s bed and picked up his hands. “But we’ll make do.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, shut up!” Sailor burst out. “Who do you think this act is working on?”
Dad sighed dramatically. “Seriously, cara mio. He’s no Sean Connery, is he?”
I glared at them both. “Forgive me for trying to see to your health the best way I know how.”
Why had I thought I could get her to agree to my wishes? She was too fucking stubborn, clearly. I had nothing to hold over her head, so I couldn't persuade her in my usual manner.
“Listen, Noah,” Sailor began, coming closer to the bed. “I’ve been thinking.”
My heart beat just a tad faster. Was she about to capitulate? And if so, why did that thrill me?
“You’re right that Benito needs me more frequently for the first few days. Despite living close to the hospital, it would be foolish to run back and forth all day.”
I sat patiently, waiting for her to come around to my point of view without rubbing her nose in it.
“I’ll stay, but only for a few days. Once he no longer needs constant care, I’ll go back home.”
Biting back the huge grin threatening to split my face, I settled for a small smile. “Thank you for your graciousness.”
Dad clapped his hands. “That makes me so happy, cara mio. You’ll have the time of your life, I assure you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she mumbled.
Dr. Webster came in for his morning rounds, and I had the honor of watching Sailor in her element as the two of them discussed my father’s discharge instructions in technical terms.
“It’s a good thing she’ll be there,” Dad commented, “since I have no damn clue what they're saying about me.”
I couldn't help my grin. “She does, and that’s what counts.”
It was more of a production to get him out of there than I’d hoped, mostly because he balked at the wheelchair until Sailor snapped at him to get over his machismo and let her push him out to the doors.
He blushed, closing his mouth and obeying everything she instructed him to do.
Yeah, this was going to work out splendidly.
The three of us rode in the limo to the hotel, and I couldn't help watching Sailor’s facial expressions.
The city streets were covered in a light sheen of snow, but as native New Yorkers, that was par for the course.
When we arrived and stepped out of the car, she craned her neck, allowing snowflakes to fall unheeded on her face, catching and collecting on her eyelashes until they melted and she blinked.
I’d become so jaded to the sight of the thirty-three-floor building that I never even bothered to look at it anymore, but her reaction fascinated me.
Mirroring her stance, I stared up at the falling snow and the pale facade until Dad cleared his throat behind us.
“I’m sure you’re enjoying yourselves, kids, but this old man is freezing his balls off.”
That snapped me out of my fixation, and I rested my hand on Sailor’s lower back to usher her through the lobby.
The concierge met us immediately, assuring me all of Dad’s belongings were in his room.
Sailor had agreed to wait until he was settled before going to her place to pack, which I thought was for the best. I was confident that once she saw the suite, she’d never want to leave.
We rode silently in the elevator, the four of us keeping our thoughts to ourselves. The concierge ushered us out on our floor, opening Dad’s door and allowing us to enter first. Then he led me and Sailor to the adjoining door, which he’d left ajar in anticipation of our arrival.
“For the signora,” he said, throwing his arm out with a flourish.
“It’s signorina, or il dottore,” she corrected.
“My apologies.”
She was such a stickler for all things proper.
But I found none of that mattered as she walked over to the window, featuring a breathtaking view of Central Park South and the pond beneath the trees, which looked as if someone had sifted powdered sugar over their tops.
Nothing about the opulently-appointed rooms mattered to her nearly as much as the view, if her captivated attention was any indication.
Her slender fingers crept up her throat, splayed over her jaw as she stared, transfixed.
And I found I was transfixed as well. Not with the view out the window, though apparently I took it for granted too.
No, I was transfixed by il buon dottore, as my father had called her.
Even in this relaxed state, her posture was impeccable.
Her hair fluttered when she moved, finally turning in a slow circle to take in her room.
I was right about that; she’d never want to leave after getting a look at it. Our eyes met and locked, and I felt rooted to the spot. I’d won the fight, but at what cost to me?
“If that is all, signori?” the concierge asked, interrupting my thoughts.
Tearing my gaze from Sailor, I replied, “That’s all, thank you.”
What the fuck had I just done to myself?