People saw what they wanted to see, like an Instagram account with only happy pictures. That was the life she lived, the life he’d lived.
Until now.
He waved at her from the cockpit just as the Limo started to pull away. She’d never looked back whenever he flew out. It scared her too much when they were dating, to think it could be her last time seeing him.
But this time, this time she turned around and blew him a kiss, then said a prayer. And she had to place her hand over her chest as more distance grew between them.
Her cell rang as the limo pulled out onto the street.
“Britt!” Everlee was sobbing. She could hear something else in the background. “Hurry, you have to hurry, it’s Chrissy!”
“What? What do you mean, it’s Chrissy?” Brittany’s hands started to shake. “Everlee!”
“She’s hurt, long story—Britt, she’s going to be fine, but you need to go to the hospital. Oh, God, this is all my fault. All my fault. I’m so sorry, Britt, I’m so sorry!”
“What happened?” Britt tried again, sickness pounding like nails into her heart. “Everlee!”
“Frederick attacked her. He got really angry, he just… lost it. Marnie said that Chrissy had one last contract in her shoot and that she had to be there. Roger came, so we thought it would be fine, but then he got locked out.” She choked out another sob. “Frederick had a gun. She’s in the ambulance, shaken up. She just… she needs her mom.”
Brittany squeezed her eyes shut as fresh tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m on my way. Oliver’s hospital?”
“Yes.” Her voice quivered.
“I’ll be there in fifteen.” She quickly jotted off information to the driver, and as they turned around, she dialed Ronan’s number.
It went straight to voicemail.
Maybe he was already in the air.
But it would be too soon.
She dialed again. When it went to voicemail again, she decided to wait a bit.
The fifteen minutes to the hospital were the most stressful of her life. She almost got out of the car and sprinted through the congested traffic, but they finally made it. She tried Ronan’s number a few more times.
All she got was voicemail again and again. It wasn’t like him to turn off his phone, but she knew he’d been stressed, busy. He probably wanted peace, and he could have put it in airplane mode already.
She shoved her phone back into her purse and ran to the ER nurses’ station. “Hi, I’m Brittany—”
“Oh! You look the same as when you came in sixteen years ago.” Amelia, the nurse from her past, stood and gave her a warm smile. “I’m so happy to see you. I know it was such a hard decision to put your little girl up for adoption. But you look like you’re thriving.”
As the surprise of seeing Amelia again wore off, Brittany opened her mouth to explain why she was there.
“Little girl?” A man’s voice choked from behind her.
Heart thumping against her ribs, Brittany turned. Dread lodged in her stomach like chunks of cement as she took in Oliver’s pallor and shocked expression.
“Oliver…” she croaked.
His eyes narrowed, and a mask of distrust settled over his face.
Commotion near the bay doors drew her attention. An ambulance was just pulling up, lights flashing but the siren off. That had to be Chrissy.
Dane’s familiar SUV pulled up right behind it.
Zoe, Everlee, and Dane all filtered out, while the paramedics unloaded Chrissy.
“I’ll explain. She needs me now. Sixteen years ago, she needed me. And I won’t make that same mistake again. I won’t let others dictate my future for me. So, if you’re going to walk away, please do it now.” Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as Oliver shook his head, turned, and did just that.
Britt didn’t have time to think about what it meant.
Both men were out of her life.
But she had her daughter.
Her beautiful, brave daughter.
“Chrissy!” She ran as fast as she could in her heels toward the gurney. “What happened?” Bruises lined the outside of Chrissy’s throat; they were faint. A bit of blood trickled down her lower lip.
“He had a gun,” Everlee whispered. “Apparently, she’d been denying him for weeks. Frederick was angry at me, upset that I helped turn over critical information to Dane about him being involved with a child pornography scheme.” She sobbed into Zoe’s arms while Dane tenderly held both women.
“Dane?” She covered her mouth with her hands. He had a slight limp but otherwise looked fine, angry but fine. “Did you…”
“He deserved death. I would kill him for looking at any one of you sideways. And I would have, except Zoe intervened. Frederick’s in police custody.”
“Okay.” It was too much information, too much… everything. Brittany reached for her daughter’s hand and squeezed it. “You’re going to be okay.”
“I was so scared,” Chrissy admitted, trying to sit up. The paramedic gently pushed her back down. “I prayed, though. I prayed… I think it worked.” Her eyes squeezed shut as a tear slid along her bloody lip. “I just thought what would you do, you know? In that situation? What would you do? All I got out was, God.”
“Sometimes.” Brittany kissed her hand. “That’s all we need.”
Chrissy was going to be fine. Right? She had to be.
Brittany clung to her daughter’s hand as they sat in the small ER room, waiting for the doctor to show up.
It was taking longer than she would have liked, plus having all of them in that small room wasn’t helping. But nobody wanted to leave, and Dane looked too angry to be let loose on the city of New York.
Was it wrong of her to want to set the monster loose? To let him make everyone pay? To accidentally kill Frederick in that prison cell? Fresh anger hit her in the chest as she tried to keep herself calm in front of Chrissy.
“Britt.” Chrissy’s voice was strong. “You’re shaking.”
“I know.” Brittany’s teeth chattered. “I’m just… I keep thinking about what could have happened, and I wasn’t there… again. I wasn’t there for you.”
“You’ve always been there.” Chrissy smiled. “When my parents were killed in that car accident, it was your poster that I stared up at, your image that motivated me to do something with my life instead of wallowing in sadness. It was your ridiculous workout DVD that introduced me to Pilates. It was always you, this person I didn’t know but felt connected to despite the distance and weirdness of the situation. You.” She pressed her lips together and then burst into tears. “You’ve always been there; you just didn’t know it.”
Britt crawled onto the bed with her daughter, kicked off her shoes, and rocked Chrissy while she cried.
And it was then that she realized.
She was on the same floor she’d been on sixteen years ago.
She was just on the other side of the obstetrics unit.
With her daughter.
Rocking her, like she had done the day she was born.
Crying, holding her, praying over her faster than her thoughts could keep up with her words.
Full circle.
Except Ronan was gone.
And Oliver had turned away.
A knock sounded on the door.
Light from the hallway framed a silhouette. It was impossible to make out Oliver’s expression, but he leaned against the door like he always did, as if he’d practiced it for her a million times.
Warmth surged through her. Please, let him forgive her. Please, let it be okay.
“Oliver?” Brittany sat up. “What are you doing here?”
He locked eyes with her. “I told you I wasn’t a guy who walked away. And I’ll prove that to you every single day that you allow me to be in your life. No more secrets, Britt.”
“No more secrets,” she choked out. Was that it? Just a warning and then things were back to normal? She was used to emotional terrorism, passive-aggressiveness, jea
lousy. Instead, Oliver simply told her to be honest.
Dane looked ready to intervene if need be, and Zoe was already holding him back.
“You’re a surgeon.” Dane pointed out the obvious, making Britt laugh despite her tears.
“Thank you, I’m fully aware of my profession. I’m still on shift, and I wanted her to have the best treatment, so I kicked Dr. Byrne out. He’ll be fine, he needed a break anyway, and this is a family thing… isn’t it?”
Dane seemed to like that answer. He nodded his head and stepped back, Zoe clinging to his side.
“Chrissy.” Oliver moved around the bed and squeezed the girl’s free hand. “Your CT came back clear along with your lab work. Other than a few cuts and bruises from that maniac, everything looks good. You should make a complete recovery. And I’m happy to announce there will be no scars, at least not on the outside.”
Chrissy’s eyelids lowered, and then she tilted her head at him. “How much schooling did you go through?”
“Chrissy.” Brittany covered her face with her hands. “He’s a doctor. Plus, he operates on people, it’s a lot.”
“Your mom’s right,” Oliver agreed. If a pin dropped at that moment, the sound would explode through that hospital room. “It’s a lot of schooling, but I love what I do.”
“And my mom? Do you love her?”
“I see what you did there.” Oliver let out an amused laugh.
“I’m sixteen, I’m born to manipulate.” She sat up a bit. “Plus, it keeps the focus off of me and what happened.” She looked away.
“What happened wasn’t your fault,” Oliver said gently, walking farther into the room. “And I love your mother very much, but she thinks it’s too soon.”
Chrissy let out a sigh. “Then you should marry her.”
“Chrissy!” Brittany was ready to crawl under the cot and plug her ears.
“Who’s getting married?” Roger called from the door. His gaze settled on the bed. “Chrissy, I’m so sorry sweetheart, I had no idea. I never would have stepped outside that cursed building had I known. I just gave my report to the police. Otherwise, I would have ridden with everyone else. You poor, sweet girl.” He kissed her cheek and hugged her. “I’ll kill that bastard for what he did to you—”
“Took care of it,” Dane said in a bored tone. “And when have you ever lifted a finger other than to snap it at a waiter for more wine?”
“Man has a point,” Zoe said under her breath while Everlee let out a small laugh.
Roger waved him off and approached the bed. “Dear girl, I had no idea what he had planned, what he was capable—”
“It’s not your fault.” Chrissy’s voice was strong, confident. “Just like it’s not mine, right?”
“Right.” Roger leaned down and kissed her forehead.
“So,” Chrissy interjected yet again, her gaze landing on Oliver. “Shouldn’t you ask her?”
“Ask her?” Roger repeated. “Huh?”
“Oliver, you said you loved her.”
“Sweetheart, it’s been two weeks,” Brittany said through clenched teeth.
“When you know, you know,” Chrissy argued.
“Any drugs you can give her?” Brittany stood and gave her daughter a serious look that probably came across as more nervous than anything.
Oliver beamed at her. “Actually, I agree with the sixteen-year-old.”
“Nobody ever does. I think I like you.” Chrissy laughed. It felt good to hear her daughter laugh. It did something to Brittany’s insides, made her want to laugh with her.
“Thanks, I like you, too.” Oliver winked and then gave her a fist bump. “By the way, according to your chart, you just had a birthday. I think I see shopping money in your future if you can convince your mom to at least think about saying yes.”
“I have a good feeling about you.”
“You’re already dreaming about purses, aren’t you?” Roger laughed. “For your mom, it was always shoes. But for you? Purses.”
“They hold things,” Chrissy pointed out. “And they change an outfit instantly.”
Oliver narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re going to be expensive, aren’t you?”
Chrissy gave him a cheeky grin. Already, her face looked lighter, happier. Brittany let out a sigh of relief, only to suck in a breath seconds later as Oliver dropped to one knee in front of her friends and family and grabbed her hands. “Will you… do me the honor… of marrying me…?” He grinned at Chrissy. “In the near future, you know, once we date a little longer and I get to know the family better.”
“How far in the future?” Brittany asked with tears in her eyes, happy ones.
“Two weeks.”
“Two months,” she fired back.
“Days.” He grinned, getting to his feet.
“You’re impossible.”
“Hey!” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “When you know, you know. Just try stopping me, I dare you.”
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her mouth. She sighed against him, suddenly exhausted. “Yes. Let’s save a very near future date… how’s that?”
“Perfect.” He grinned as if he’d just won when she realized that maybe they all had. “And now that that’s settled. Thanks, Chrissy.” With a sassy half-grin, he winked. “I’m going to go see a man about getting you guys checked out so you can get some rest.”
“Thank you.” Brittany clung to him one last time.
“Anything for you.”
“Not just for that.” She lowered her head.
He tilted her chin. “Never apologize for having secrets. We all do. My only disappointment was in your inability to realize that I always want to help carry the load, however burdensome that may be, all right?”
“She’s not a burden.”
“I can hear you,” Chrissy piped up.
“She’s sixteen,” Oliver teased.
“That, too!” Chrissy grumbled.
“I do want to love you. I want this,” Brittany said with tears in her throat.
Oliver lowered his head, his lips brushing against hers. “Then trust me, trust us, trust this, and if all else fails, trust Roger, he’s a genius.”
“Knew I liked him…” Roger said from the corner. The rest of the group fell into quiet laughter.
“Be right back.” Oliver left the room.
“Dane?” Brittany was going to ask for another favor, but she knew this was one that Dane would do without question. “Can you make sure all of Chrissy’s things make it to my apartment? I’m not sure if Roger still has stuff in his car or—”
“Already done,” Dane said in a smug voice with an equally haughty smile. “I texted a few of my men in the SUV once the paramedics said that Chrissy was going to be okay.”
“Men?” Chrissy asked, her eyes narrowed. “As in like… guys that work for you?”
“Leave it,” Roger said through clenched teeth. “Dane, have I ever told you how nice you fill out a jacket?”
“Several times, actually,” Dane said, also through clenched teeth, though his eyes danced with humor. “Especially after the runway show when you ran your hands over my biceps for a solid ten seconds.”
“Lint. I was searching for lint.”
“Right.”
“You know…” Chrissy tilted her head at him. “You look like one of those guys in those mafia books that—”
The room quieted.
“Okay, good talk.” Brittany broke the tense hush. “What do you say we go shopping and decorate your new bedroom tomorrow? We can get to know each other and try to figure out this crazy fashion jungle together.”
“Yeah,” Chrissy said through her tears. “I would really like that.”
“Good.” Brittany squeezed her daughter tightly and thanked God that she was safe, that she was in her arms, that things were as they should be.
The only missing piece was Chrissy meeting Ronan.
Brittany frowned, realizing that he hadn’t called her back. It wasn’t like him
to not respond.
“Good news,” Oliver announced as he walked back into the hospital room. “I have discharge papers right here, and my lovely nurse Sarah is going to check you out, all right? Hospital rules dictate that you have to leave in a wheelchair. Other than that, we can get you out of here in about twenty minutes. Sound good?”
“Great.” Chrissy nodded. Her smile was so pretty, so familiar. She might have Brittany’s hair, but she had Ronan’s smile.
He would be so proud of her.
So proud.
Brittany let out an exhale and looked across the room just as Dane lifted his phone closer to his face, then slowly lowered it, and locked eyes with her, giving his head a slow shake.
And then he was running out of the room.
Running.
She’d never in her life seen Dane run.
He didn’t need to, did he?
“Dane?” Zoe yelled.
And somehow, Brittany knew.
She knew.
“I’ll be right back.” On wooden legs, she followed Dane out of the room and down the hall to the nurses’ station where patients and staff hovered below a flat-screen TV.
“Breaking News, New York Senator Ronan Kampbell, Jr., son of the late president Ronan Kampbell crashed shortly after takeoff from Teterboro Airport, double engine failure, no survivors.”
Brittany gasped, covering her face with her hands just as Dane rushed to her side and caught her.
And for the second time in her life, Brittany collapsed against a crime boss’s chest and cried.
For a child lost and found.
For a man whose life was not his own.
And in the end.
Was cut too short.
1 Week Later
It was a funeral fit for a king.
The week went by in a blur. Reporters were scattered along the streets with cameras held high, each of them greedy for a shot of the grieving family.
Of them.
A year ago, she had stood there and cried over Danica’s death. Now, she was back, crying over Ronan’s.
Life could change in an instant, couldn’t it?
Chrissy stood silently, crying on Brittany’s right. Oliver supported them both on the left.
Roger and Grace huddled next to the small group of people invited to the funeral. Every expression was stoic. Sad.
Fashion Jungle Page 28
