Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Then rerun the projections because I’m not approving another,” I said, stepping out of my building into the warm, fresh air and loosening my tie. The late-afternoon sunlight bounced off the glass buildings lining the Newport coast.
“I’ll call you back,” I said when I noticed a young woman double over right in front of my waiting car.
I ended the call and rushed toward her.
“Are you okay?”
Instead of answering, she cried out in pain. One of the valets moved toward her uncertainly, but the second she cried out again, I saw blood running down her bare legs.
Everything in me locked into crisis aversion mode.
“Hey,” I said sharply, crouching in front of her. “Look at me.”
Fuck. She was pale. Tears spilled out of her eyes as another wave of pain hit her.
“Oh God…” she whimpered. “I think it’s the baby,” she said, clutching her belly.
“How pregnant are you?”
“I…” she winced in pain. “I don’t know exactly yet,” she gasped. “I was supposed to go for my ultrasound this week.”
Another pain tore through her, hard enough that she folded forward into me with a cry.
Christ. I glanced at my driver. “Call my pilot and tell him to redirect to Saint John’s helipad. Have him call ahead.”
“Yes, sir,” he said as I guided the suffering woman into the backseat of my car.
“Get us to the chopper now,” I said to my driver. I turned to the woman, helping her buckle into the seat next to me. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Amelia. I was just on my way to go visit—agh…” She winced in severe pain, losing her breath.
“It’s okay, Amelia. You’re bleeding, and I’m getting you to the hospital.”
Her eyes filled with panic instantly. “I don’t want to lose my baby…” she cried out through another wave of pain.
“That’s why I’m using my helicopter to get you to the ER at Saint John’s,” I said. “There is no way we’re going to wait for an ambulance during rush hour traffic.”
“Okay,” she whispered tearfully.
“You said you were on your way to visit someone. May I ask who?” I asked, hoping it might be someone in my building that I knew. “Perhaps I can call them, and they can meet us at the hospital.”
She shook her head. “My sister,” she breathed. “She works in the building you just came out of…”
“May I use your phone to contact her?” I questioned.
“Oh, damn,” she said. “I don’t have it. I must have dropped…” Another pause was brought on by the pain. “You can Google her number. Her name is Catalina Veléz. Her company…”
“Is Veléz Global,” I finished for her, seeing that the pain halted her again in conversation.
“She’s overseas, and I was picking up something for her,” she managed.
I wasn’t going to go through the process of alerting her that she was at the wrong building if she was headed to Cat’s office. In fact, thank God she was, because the Universe timed it so that I was there to help the poor girl.
“Cat is in Monaco,” she breathed out as my driver pulled into the private landing pad.
The blades were already slicing through the air, ready to take us as if it were a medevac chopper. I’d be tipping my pilots and driver well for their precision and efforts as they worked through this emergency situation.
I knew exactly why Cat was in Monaco. Over the last two days, all we heard were nonstop updates about the nightmare unfolding there after Mediterranean storm warnings threatened to destroy the Kaurent gala.
Apparently, she was hired to salvage the entire event because the storm nearly destroyed the rooftop affair.
Another sharp cry escaped Amelia, and her fingers dug into my arm as I loaded her into the chopper and helped secure her in her seat.
The interior of the chopper was quite luxurious, and I only hoped the small leather sofa I had her sit on would keep her comfortable until we got there.
“Do you have a doctor I can call?” I questioned her as the helicopter slowly lifted off the pad.
“Dr. Aster,” she said.
“John?” I said, shocked that the woman had just mentioned my childhood friend’s name.
She let out a long exhale, hopefully a reprieve from the pain she’d been in since I’d encountered her.
“No,” she said, “Mickie.”
“Very good,” I said, opening my phone and dialing Mickie.
The call barely rang twice before she answered.
“Titus?”
“Hey, Mick,” I said quickly, glancing at Amelia, who was curled against the leather seat as another pain hit her. “I have one of your patients with me. Amelia Veléz.”
“Veléz?” Mickie asked.
“She told me she’s Cat Veléz’s sister?” I said, confused, as Amelia shook her head.
“It’s Navarro,” Amelia corrected.
“Forgive me,” I said to Mickie. “Amelia Navarro.”
“Yes, she’s scheduled for an ultrasound with me this week.”
“She’s in extreme pain and bleeding,” I said. “We’re airborne, headed to Saint John’s. My pilots were cleared to use the hospital’s landing pad. They’ll be in contact with the hospital and providing an ETA,” I informed her.
“Very good. Can you tell exactly how much bleeding there is?”
“It was running down her legs after I found her doubled over in pain,” I relayed as I watched Amelia struggle through another wave of pain.
“Okay,” Mickie answered calmly, in full doctor mode. “John is on call tonight and already at the hospital. I’m alerting ER and Labor and Delivery now.”
“Thank you.”
“Do not let her panic,” she instructed firmly. “Stress will only make things worse until we know what’s happening.”
Amelia let out another soft cry beside me, curling tighter into herself.
“Mick,” I said, lowering my voice, keeping my eyes on Amelia. “She’s terrified she’s losing the baby.”
Mickie’s tone softened. “We don’t know that yet,” she said. “Early pregnancy bleeding can mean several things. I need her at the hospital before anyone assumes the worst.”
Mickie’s calmness alone helped save my mental state in that moment. Hopefully, I could now offer some comfort for the young woman in pain.
“I’ll have John meet you directly at the helipad,” she continued. “I’m clearing imaging and ultrasound now so there’s no waiting when you land.”
“Appreciate it.”
“And Titus?”
“Yes?”
“If she loses consciousness or the bleeding worsens before you land, I need you to tell your pilot to radio ahead immediately.”
I glanced toward the cockpit. “Understood.”
“Good. And hey,” I could hear a slight shift in her voice, “thank you for getting her there quickly.”
My eyes moved back toward Amelia as tears streamed silently down her face.
“Not a problem,” I responded softly. “It seems she ended up in the wrong location,” I said with a smile, aware that she had mixed up the buildings, “but she was there at the right time.”
I hung up the call just as Amelia seized my arm again during another intense wave of pain.
Shit.
The helicopter descended over downtown Los Angeles, the city lights sprawling endlessly beneath us as Saint John’s came into view ahead.
Even from above, the hospital stood apart from everything around it, with its modern glass towers and emergency lighting cutting through the dusk.
I glanced over and saw the illuminated rooftop landing pad directly ahead. “Almost there,” I told Amelia as another soft cry escaped her.
I felt awful that I couldn’t help ease her pain. From the moment I saw her and all the way through the twenty-five-minute flight, she’d been in agony.
The second the helicopter touched down, movement erupted across the rooftop. A full response team was already waiting near the pad.
Then I noticed John, surrounded by two ER nurses, transport, and security.
John Aster looked every bit the bad-ass doctor he’d become over the years, calm and controlled under pressure. Having known John since childhood, I couldn’t imagine Amelia in better hands. The man had always been calm under pressure, even as kids.
The second the blades began to slow, John moved forward with the team. I unbuckled quickly and turned toward Amelia. “Easy,” I said. “You’re going to be just fine now.”
Tears streamed down her face as another wave of pain surged through her.
“Thank you,” she whispered shakily.
The cabin door slid open in that moment, and the wind whipped through the cabin from the slowing blades overhead.
“Titus,” John acknowledged me sharply before his full attention shifted to Amelia.
“John,” I returned.
I watched with intrigue as John’s demeanor softened when he made eye contact with Amelia. “Hey there,” he said calmly, crouching slightly in front of her seat. “I’m Dr. John Aster. Mickie called ahead and filled me in.”
Amelia nodded weakly, gripping the edge of the leather seat.
“Am I going to lose my baby?” she whispered, tears in her eyes.
John’s expression never changed. There was nothing but calm certainty throughout his being.
“We’re not going to go there just yet,” he answered smoothly. “Right now, my job is to get you downstairs, get imaging done, control your pain, and figure out exactly what’s going on, okay?”
Another tear slid down her cheek as she nodded once more.
“Excellent,” he said gently. “Can you tell me where your pain is worst?”
“Lower…” she winced. “And cramping.”
John nodded once toward the nurses already moving into position.
“All right, let’s get her downstairs now.”
The team immediately sprang into action with practiced precision.
One nurse carefully helped Amelia onto the transport stretcher while another nurse began asking questions about bleeding, symptoms, medications, and pregnancy dates.
John glanced at me briefly as they secured her. “Of all the people, you’re the saint tonight, eh?” he smirked. “Hey, man, thank God you got her here fast,” he said, clapping me on the arm.
“Seemed smarter than waiting in Newport traffic.”
“No shit,” he muttered under his breath.
Amelia suddenly reached for my wrist before they fully rolled her away, fear filling her eyes.
“Can you… can you try to call my sister?” she asked shakily.
My jaw tightened slightly.
John smirked at me because why wouldn’t word spread through all my friends about the bullshit I’d been complaining about with Catalina?
John was closest to my brother Wyatt, so I’m sure he’d already told him plenty, and I could only imagine what John was thinking about all of this.
It made a lot of sense why Mick’s tone changed on the phone when she thanked me.
“Yeah,” I answered firmly. “I’ll handle it.”
“Titus, are you staying?” John asked me.
“Um, yes, I’ll stay and call her sister. Once someone relieves me, I’ll leave,” I answered.
“Great, follow us,” he said as I trailed behind the crew and called back to my pilots to take the chopper to its hangar for the night.
Shit. Now I was left with the strangest dilemma of all: how the hell was I supposed to relay this to Cat? Outside of my father, nobody had made me this uneasy in a long damn time.