[Holiday Encounters 01.0 - 03.0] Boxed Set

by Amy Lamont

  I closed the door softly. My mind lingered on his offer, wishing with all my heart I could have done what I wanted to do—jumped up and down, squealing like a girl, and yelling a resounding yes.

  But real life and the future I had planned loomed over me. With a sigh I twisted the taps on the shower and shut out any thought of going on tour.

  Chapter 2

  Less than an hour after my shower, I walked through the doors of the hospital. I’d made it with barely a minute to spare. I’d forgotten about the St. Patrick’s Day parade. Even heading to the hospital hours before the parade was set to begin didn’t save me from having to push my way through tourists lining the streets in the hope of getting the best view of the festivities.

  I inhaled deeply and huffed out a relieved sigh when I made it safely inside and immediately regretted taking such a deep breath. After months of working as an orderly, the antiseptic smell still stung my nostrils. Would I walk through the doors someday and not notice it?

  I wrinkled my nose, but hustled to the nurses’ station to stow my stuff and get the day’s assignments. The charge nurse was a sweetie, but she could be tough when she needed to be. No need to start my day off on her bad side.

  In minutes, I’d caught up on what was happening on the fourth floor and headed for my first stop of the day.

  “Hey, Paige!”

  I smiled at the girl waving to me from her hospital bed.

  “Hey, Deanna. Fancy meeting you here.” I pushed an empty wheelchair into her room. I had to fight to keep a smile on my face. The young girl’s frail body looked even more fragile than usual. Her skin was almost translucent and dark circles left smudges under her big, blue eyes.

  “Where else would I be? They have me on a short leash.” She grinned and lifted her arm to show off the IV lines attaching her to the fluids hanging on the pole by her bedside.

  “Excuses, excuses.” I rolled my eyes at her, but couldn’t keep a straight face. Deanna was one of the best parts of my days here lately. Only thirteen and fighting cancer like a champ, she managed to crack jokes and keep a smile pinned to her face. “Nurse Regina tells me you need clean sheets and a ride.”

  “Awesome.”

  I put my head down and fought the prickle of hot tears stinging my eyes. Most thirteen-year-old girls wouldn’t get excited over clean sheets and being wheeled around the hospital floor, but Deanna acted like I offered her a designer purse and tickets to see her favorite boy band.

  I sucked in a shuddering breath and straightened my shoulders. If this girl could keep smiling, I had no right to shed a tear. The least I could do was make sure she had the time of her life as we wheeled around the hospital halls.

  “How was your night?” I asked as I started the process of moving her from the bed to the wheelchair.

  Her smile slipped for a moment before she beamed at me again. “I don’t want to talk about my poking and prodding. That’s old news. I want to hear about your bet. And more importantly, your rock star.”

  I took a quick, deep breath and internally kicked, stomped and shoved down the emotions that wanted to rise to the surface. For Deanna to lose her smile for so much as a second, last night’s tests or procedures or whatever went on had to be bad. But if she wasn’t going to cry, I wasn’t going to cry either.

  I pasted on a smile and racked my brain for some stories to share. The way Jared and I had spent last night and this morning definitely didn’t fall under the heading of things to share with a thirteen-year-old.

  “There’s nothing much more to share about the bet,” I said. I’d shared that Emma, one of my best friends and roommates, had challenged me and my two other friends and roommates on New Year’s Eve to a bet on who could have the wildest adventure by summer. After we’d manipulated Emma into a similar bet over the holidays and she’d snagged herself a billionaire, she wanted all of us to go out and get involved in wild escapades of our own.

  “Come on. You’re seeing a rock star. And you said Katelyn started dating some guy she’d been hot and heavy over since she was younger than me. Has Jade done anything? There has to be something.”

  I grinned at her enthusiasm.

  “Well, Kate’s still dating Hunter.”

  And by dating, I meant shagging on every horizontal surface they could find. Kate shared a little bit, and the few times I’d walked into our apartment when the two of them had been alone together for any amount of time, it seemed as if one, the other or both were zipping or tucking or straightening some article of clothing. It had gotten to the point where I made sure I disinfected the kitchen counters before I’d even make myself a sandwich.

  Again, nothing appropriate there to share with a thirteen-year-old.

  “What about Jade?” she asked as I got her settled in the wheelchair and hung her fluids from the attached pole. “Has she done anything to try to win the bet yet?”

  “I haven’t heard a word from Jade.” Which was kind of weird. Jade usually masterminded our crazy schemes. So either she had something major in the works or something was wrong.

  As I smoothed some fresh sheets onto Deanna’s bed, I made a mental note to check in with her soon.

  “So that means you’re in the lead, don’t you think? I mean, I’m happy Kate finally got together with her dream man.” She rested back in her seat and I pinned my gaze to her. I didn’t want to jump in with the offer of oxygen too soon, but I also didn’t want her to get too worked up. I raised an eyebrow.

  Deanna shook her head. I kept a close eye on her, but after a minute, her breathing seemed to be coming easier.

  I nodded and continued tucking in sheets. “Kate and Hunter do seem super happy together. Honestly, it’s like something out of a romance novel.”

  “You have to snap a picture for me. I’m dying to see the two of them together.”

  “Promise. Next time I see them, I’ll get a photo for you.”

  “Yay!” She clapped her hands together, and I had to bite my lip to hide my smile. She was at that perfect age between childhood and young adulthood. She tried hard to look cool and mature most of the time, but every once in a while she had a moment of childish glee like this one. My heart melted at the sight of my frail, tiny patient all but jumping with excitement.

  “So the Hunter and Kate thing is awesome. But I don’t know, I think rock star beats hooking up with your teenage crush, don’t you think?”

  “Hooking up?” I feigned outrage as I tucked the blanket under the corner of the bed.

  She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. But come on. You’ve been seeing Jared Sloane every chance you get! I think you’re in the lead by a mile.”

  I shook my head and walked over to her. I leaned down close. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  Her eyes grew wide and she looked up me solemnly as she made an X over her heart with her finger.

  “You’re the only person I’ve told about Jared,” I whispered.

  “What?” she squealed.

  “Shh.” I placed my finger over my lips. “Don’t forget. It’s a secret. Ready for a trip around the fourth floor?”

  And that was the best part of my day. For the rest of it, I was grateful it started with the reminder of why I wanted to do all this. Sometimes even under the best conditions it was hard to remember why I worked so hard.

  But on days like today when we had some sort of stomach bug epidemic that kept me up to my elbows in puke buckets and bed pans, I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell I was doing here. My life unrolled in front of me with endless days of bodily fluids and sleep deprivation.

  My shift came to an end at three in the afternoon, but it was closer to five by the time I walked back to the fourth floor nurses’ station to double-check with the charge nurse that they had enough staff to cover the night shift.

  I knew as soon as I came around the corner something was wrong. A group of doctors and nurses stood behind the tall counter at the nurses’ station in the center of the floor. Lauren, one of the newest add
itions to the staff, brushed past me, and if I wasn’t mistaken, she had tear-stained cheeks.

  My eyes flew to the couple standing by the door to Deanna’s room with one of the senior oncology residents. Fear shot through my chest with a sharp twist.

  Deanna had been here so long, her parents had to go back to work and be home to care for Deanna’s two younger brothers. Rarely did they both show up here at the same time.

  But now they stood huddled together, her mom’s head down as they listened to the doctor.

  I wanted to turn and run. But I made myself put one foot in front of the other and walk to the nurses’ station. I felt like I was walking through water. My body seemed to be moving in slow motion and everything I looked at had a bit of a fuzzy haze over it.

  It was only as I stopped at the counter and a tear slid into my mouth, leaving a salty taste in its wake, that I realized I was crying. I swiped my fingers under my eyes and took a shuddering breath. Three of the floor nurses stood in a clump, their backs to me, looking toward Deanna’s room. I cleared my throat.

  “Deanna?” I managed to squeak out.

  The three turned almost in unison. Regina, the charge nurse and the person I reported to, pressed her lips together and took a few steps toward me. I stepped back, putting space between us, even though the counter would have blocked her from getting any closer.

  Her face softened, and the sound of the deep breath she took before she spoke reached my ears.

  “Deanna’s poor heart gave out late this afternoon. The doctors worked on her for over an hour, but sweetie, it was just that little girl’s time.”

  I shook my head and bit down hard on the inside of my cheek. The sharp pain and the metallic taste of blood barely registered. I needed to get out of here before I lost my shit.

  Regina’s head tilted to the side and I could see her chest heaving under her pink scrubs, as if she was fighting the same emotions I was. But she managed to look at me with compassion in her eyes.

  “I know Deanna was special to you. It’s always hard with the ones we get close to.” She looked up at the clock on the wall over the counter. “It’s way past the end of your shift. Why don’t you get out of here for a while, sweetheart? I’ll make sure you get clocked out.”

  I must look like hell for Regina, charge nurse and rule follower extraordinaire, to offer to clock me out. A clear violation of hospital policy. But I wasn’t going to argue with her. I wanted out of there. And for far longer than awhile.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. She handed me the coat and bag I’d stashed behind the desk earlier. I clutched them to me, not bothering to put my coat on, then turned on the heel of my comfortable, no-slip shoe and all but ran for the exit.

  Chapter 3

  I burst out onto the pavement and my lungs burned as tears and the frosty March air sucked the breath from me. A gasp escaped me and the cold stung my skin, but I didn’t bother to slip into my coat. I welcomed the biting cold. It seemed fitting.

  I stood on the city sidewalk, grief and panic and the wretched sense that I’d made a terrible mistake paralyzing me.

  But the city didn’t let me wallow for long. A large group of rowdy twenty-somethings stampeded down the street and before I knew it, I was swept along with them. Nobody seemed to notice or care about my mindless stumbling. I had no idea where to go or what I should do next.

  It took me a good ten minutes before I remembered St. Patrick’s Day. That would explain the inordinate number of drunks bumbling along at my sides.

  A humorless laugh escaped me as I realized I fit right in—lurching along like a drunkard despite the fact the sun hadn’t even come close to touching the horizon yet and sporting bright green scrubs, my usual hospital uniform.

  “Fuck.” I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and tried to get my bearings.

  A tall, blond frat boy type plowed into my back. He opened his mouth, and from the look on his face, I was about to be treated to a drunken, belligerent rant about watching where I’m going.

  But in an instant, his red-rimmed eyes raked over my body and his snarl turned into a cheesy grin.

  “Erin go bragh, baby.” He leaned into me as he spoke and I grimaced as his hundred proof breath floated over me.

  “Oh, God.” I waved a hand in front of my face, hoping to clear the miasma.

  But I guess the luck of the Irish wasn’t on my side.

  “We’ve been together all of a second and already I have you calling out to the heavens.” He smirked and made a grab for my hand.

  I snatched my arm away from him and leaned as far back as I could as people swarmed past us. “Eww.”

  “Don’t be that way, baby. This could be your lucky day.”

  Okay, never in a million years would his frat boy brand of charm work on me, but normally I’d at least crack up at the cheesy lines delivered in a drunken slur.

  But not today. Today I was all out of good spirits and for once I had zero desire to participate in the party going on around me.

  “Fuck off,” I said and stomped away.

  “Hey.” He followed behind me.

  Wonderful. Now I had a stalker. I picked up my pace, but so did Frat Boy.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. I lifted my gaze to the buildings around me, finally taking stock of where I ended up after fleeing from the hospital. A familiar sight loomed ahead—Central Park.

  Jared. His name came to me unbidden as I pushed my way through a throng of pedestrians. Just last night I’d laughed and teased him about the overpriced, yet utilitarian apartment he rented. A penthouse in a building full of furnished, short-term corporate rentals, it lacked any interesting architectural style. Everything about it from the design to the décor was boring and boxy. Dark furniture and drapes, along with the stark black and white and stainless steel kitchen, turned the oversized apartment into a shoebox.

  The apartment’s single redeeming quality was the startlingly spectacular view of Central Park and the cityscape around it.

  But right now I didn’t care if it was a dungeon in the basement of the worst neighborhood Manhattan had to offer. I just wanted to find a place to lick my wounds as far away from the dickhead stalking me down the street as possible.

  “Hey! Hey!”

  A peek over my shoulder showed him gaining on me, moving with surprising agility considering his obviously inebriated state. The downright hostile look he wore, eyebrows drawn together and lips pulled up on one side into an almost sneer, put me in mind of a rabid dog. A chill ran down my spine at his tenacious determination to catch up with me. What the hell did he think he would do with me if he caught up?

  I didn’t give him the chance to make that decision. I flat out ran down the street, weaving in and out of the drunken St. Patrick’s Day revelers and workers headed home for the day. Jared’s apartment was steps away.

  Thank God. The doorman recognized me. With a small nod, he opened one of the large plate-glass doors leading to the lobby.

  “Thanks.” I offered him a relieved smile, but didn’t slow down until I had moved out of view behind a large potted plant.

  My stalker ran past and then slowed to a stop. He retraced his steps and reached to open the lobby door. The doorman quickly sidestepped him.

  The frat boy all but bared his teeth, but after a few minutes stumbled away again. I watched to make sure he didn’t linger around the building, but he kept going forward, caught up in the stream of people moving down the street.

  Holy shit. I leaned against the cool marble wall, eyes closed and shivering as I tried to calm my erratic breathing.

  “Paige?”

  My eyes popped open, fear pushing another spike of adrenaline through my body. I came off the wall and was poised to run before I realized frat boy didn’t know my name. I turned my head to see Jared walking toward me.

  “Hi,” I said weakly, offering the barest of smiles. I could almost feel the adrenaline leaving my body, circling around and seeping out, leaving me a trembling mess. It took every oun
ce of strength I had not to fall at Jared’s feet as he strode over to me.

  “Hey, are you okay? What are you doing here?” he asked.

  He pulled me close to his body and I let him, grateful to have someone else helping to keep me on my feet. I tucked my face into his neck, absorbing his blessed, blessed body heat and breathing in his warm, musky scent. My heartbeat started to slow as my body got the message I was out of danger.

  I tilted my head back to look up at him. His startling blue eyes stared down at me with obvious concern.

  I shook my head. “I was being silly. Some St. Patrick’s Day partier had one too many and started following me. I’m sure it was nothing, but it freaked me out and when I realized I was in front of your high security building, the doorman let me duck inside.”

  “Damn, and here I thought you were coming to see me, but turns out it’s just my heightened security you were after,” he teased.

  I offered him a smile that felt tremulous at best.

  “Hey.” He shook me gently and spoke softly near my ear. “You’re really freaked, aren’t you?”

  His gentle handling was my undoing. Tears, hot and prickly, burned behind my eyes as I fought to keep them from falling. I quickly tucked my head back into his chest, but I was too late. He saw them.

  Jared moved his hands up and down my back. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you upstairs.”

  I nodded and let him herd me toward the elevator, but I kept my face hidden in his chest. So far we’d been careful not to get caught together by the paparazzi that were never too far from Jared and the other members of his band. It would be just my luck to have a photo snapped now while I trembled like a baby and these mortifying tears fell. I never cried.

  But as the elevator doors closed, an image of Deanna rose up in my mind. I clutched Jared’s t-shirt and shuddering sobs shook my whole body. I didn’t come up for a breath, though. If I could have burrowed any closer to him, I would have.

  His arms stayed clenched around me, as if he wanted to keep me as close as I wanted to be.