Comet's Tale of Love

by Lynn Donovan

  

  “Ah, Doctor Stepanov!” A fine looking silver fox walked toward Anya after she stepped out of the helicopter and climbed down the short ladder to the deck. The yacht was even bigger than it looked from the air. He held out his hand to shake hers. She automatically clasped hands with him and let him shake the dickens out of her. “I’m Gordon Holliday.”

  “Please, call me Anya.”

  “Anya!” He exclaimed and finally let go of her hand. “Wonderful. And you can call me Gordon.”

  “Alright. Is your son here? I’d like to assess his PT needs before I make a decision.”

  He laughed a jolly, belly chortle. “No. I’m afraid this interview will be based on your credentials, and not based on my son’s condition.”

  Anya frowned. “I see.” She glanced around. The ocean stretched as far as her eye could see. Should she take a pic of the yacht’s identification numbers and text it to Emily. She had no idea she was going to a boat in the ocean. “Well, this seems to be a day for firsts. Why not?”

  He guided her into a stateroom and sat on a round couch. It looked like a complete circle with two openings on either side and a round table in the middle. He crossed his ankle over his knee and stretched his arms out on the backrest. “Have a seat, Anya. Is there anything you’d like to drink?

  Roger moved in behind them and went straight to the bar, where he mixed something together and set it on the top counter. It looked like a dirty martini, with a pineapple wedge on the rim.

  “No, thank you. I don’t drink alcohol.”

  Gordon threw his head back and laughed. “This isn’t alcohol. This is a coconut water cocktail and pineapple wedge, but not a drop of alcohol is in it. My son would kill me if I poisoned my body with a real martini.”

  “Oh, I-I just assumed. Who is your son, exactly?”

  His name is William Comet. You see I have nine sons and they all are named after the famous reindeer of Santa’s sleigh including Rudolph. William is son number five, so Comet.

  Anya tilted her head, considering Gordon’s mirth. Was he serious? Or teasing her? “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope.” Gordon uncrossed his leg and leaned forward. “My late wife took Christmas very seriously, and with a name like mine, I agreed. When our sons were born, it only seemed natural to give each of them the middle name of the reindeer.”

  Roger brought him the drink. “Are you sure you don’t want one? Coconut water is supposed to be the hum-diggity best thing ever for you.”

  “Well?” She looked at the drink. “Alright. I’ll give it a try.”

  “That’s the adventurist spirit I’m looking for.” Gordon glanced at Roger and the servant, or whatever he was, turned to comply.

  Anya cocked her head back. “Mr. Holliday, sir? I’m not sure why you’ve brought me here or what you expect me to do. I’m just a nurse practitioner, physical therapist from New York. I don’t understand—”

  “Ah, Anya.” Gordon drank down his coconut water and set the glass on the table in front of him. Roger swooped in and picked up the empty martini glass and set hers down simultaneously, then disappeared behind the bar. There must be an exit back there. Gordon continued. “You’re the get-down-to-business kind of person, I see. All right. Let’s get down to it, then. My son is a professional philanthropist. He, like all my sons, has a mind of his own. Mind you, it’s a good mind, and he’s made a success of everything he has endeavored. But—”

  He stared at Anya as if he were sizing her up to receive this information. She waited. But what? He smiled. She stared back at him.

  “Well.” Gordon finally continued. “I have in mind to… retire… soon. I don’t know when but soon. And in getting all my reindeer in a row, I want all of my sons to take over their part of the Holliday Island Resorts. William’s island is focused on health and fitness, nutrition, too. Only problem is he’s gone and gotten himself hurt. How can he be the face of health and fitness if he’s being pushed around in a wheelchair by a nurse in a white uniform. I need you to help him regain his robust, healthy appearance he once had.”

  Anya frowned. “Mr. Holliday, a lot of people with an injury such as your son’s have gone on to live very productive and healthy lives, but they’ll always be paralyzed. It’s an injury that can’t be repaired. As far as looking robust and healthy, that’s completely up to him. I can help him develop a regimen of exercise and therapy to maintain as much of his muscle mass as possible, but he’d still be paralyzed.”

  A helicopter circled above the yacht. Roger popped up from behind the bar and ran from the stateroom. He ran to the opposite end of the yacht from where the helicopter sat that he had brought Anya in, and clamped earphones over his head, then lifted orange lighted batons in the air, signaling the other helicopter to land. Anya watched in fascination. She hadn’t realized there were two helipads. Gosh, how big was this boat?

  A tall, muscular man stepped out of the helicopter. He and Gordon looked like generational twins, but he seemed robotic. He held something in his hand, was it a lighter? Stiffly, he made his way to the stateroom. Gordon stood as the man entered. “Hello, Comet.”

  “Hello, Dad.” The man walked in and sat down, or rather fell down on the divan. “Is this her?”

  “Anya Stepanov, this is my son, William Comet Holliday.”

  Anya’s eyes went wide. William… Comet… Holliday? “Billy C. Holliday, American’s most eligible bachelor?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I guess you saw the September issue of the People’s Magazine.”

  Anya stared at him, then shook her head as if to rid herself of the shock. “But I thought you were paralyzed? T-5 and T-6? How…”

  “Robotics, baby.” William grinned big. “I wear this exoskeleton whenever I’m out and about. At home in my private quarters, I use an athletic wheelchair. But! Never will I be shoved around by Nurse Ratched!”

  “Really?” Anya ignored the insult and let her eyes drop to the bulges protruding from beneath his khaki pants as she stood. She wanted to examine the exoskeleton, but then remembered where she was and who she was with. This wasn’t her clinic. “Robotics? I’ve read something recently about the advances they’ve made in robotics for paraplegic patients, but I’ve never seen any of the equipment in person.”

  William looked leery. “When you buy more than fifty percent of their stocks, you can influence the Robotics of Tomorrow Company to build a suit, like Ironman, so you can walk into any meeting or studio and appear to be as normal as the next guy.”

  Anya watched William sitting next to his father with a smug look on his face. To be honest, he looked exhausted and uncomfortable. His balance looked strained, even though his movements seemed fluid enough to appear nearly normal. But that was the exoskeleton’s movements not the man’s.

  The heat of frustration rose in her throat. What an arrogant, narcissistic guy! How lucky he was to be able to just invest in a robotics company and receive prototype equipment that the average person can’t even dream of, let alone own.

  “So…” She turned to Gordon. “What is it you think I can do for him?”

  Gordon smiled and turned to William. William leaned toward her. “I know it seems like I’ve got it all figured out, Miss Stepanov. But believe me when I tell you just strapping an exoskeleton to your body and walking around like you’ve not a care in the world, isn’t all there is to my recovery or rehabilitation plan. As you know rehabilitation is an on-going process. I’m in the business of demonstrating absolute health and fitness. I can’t afford to look weak or … crippled. I need a physical therapist who is willing to work with me a ridiculous amount of time. Especially if I’m only going to be at this one resort island.” He tossed an angry glare at Gordon. “I need to exude health and fitness, so I can draw clients to my one little island.” He glared at Gordon, again. “Dad doesn’t think I can continue to run my multi-empires all over the United States. He thinks that I should concentrate all my energies on this Holliday Island Resort.”

&n
bsp; Anya tilted her head. “Well, you’ve got that right. You need a great deal of physical therapy before you strap yourself in that thing.” She glanced at Gordon, then returned her gaze to William. “And how do I fit into this scheme of yours and your dad’s?”

  William turned to Gordon. “See Dad, I told you I need a guy physical therapist. Women have to have all the boxes checked. She can’t get what I’m doing for its face value and just go with it.” William mechanically rose to his feet. It looked painful. The exoskeleton obviously lifted his body and straightened his legs until he was standing. Once he appeared to have his center, he lumbered out of the room. Anya watched him in shock. What a butt-wipe.

  She shook her head. “Perhaps you’re right. If all you want is a buddy to tell you how cool your exoskeleton is when you march around in it, then I’m not the right physical therapist for you.” She pursed her lips. “You need to work on your core, Mr. Holliday, build your muscular skeleton to support what you lost from the injury. You can’t rely on some ironman suit to make you look cool and ignore the root of the problem. YOU’RE DOING YOURSELF MORE HARM THAN GOOD!”

  All her words were wasted. He walked away despite anything she said. He continued until he got to the helicopter he had arrived in, climbed in, circled his finger in the air, the pilot fired up the engine and the blades began to swirl. Soon, they were in the air.

  Gordon leapt to his feet. “See! I knew you were the right gal for the job!”

  Just then a woman walked out from behind the bar mirrors. Gordon turned to her. “Am I right, Mrs. Reese?”

  She looked like a CEO or something, in a skirted suit and stiletto heels. She smiled. “As always, Mr. Holliday.”

  Anya stared at the woman, then turned to the senior man. “Have you heard a word I said? Or noticed he just left the meeting?”

  “Trust me.” Gordon patted her shoulder and sat down. “This is Mrs. Evelyn Reese, she’s … a potential investor. She’ll be touring Comet’s island soon. So if she shows up, don’t think anything of it. I’ve given her carte blanche to look around.” He grinned. “Now, back to the subject at hand, I know the right person for the job when I see one. You’re who my son needs. You know what is needed and have the knowledge and skill set to help him with it. He likes to cut corners; I expect you’ll not let him get away with that. You know the behind the scenes stuff that nobody has any business knowing about.” Gordon leaned back. Roger had, at some point in time, placed another coconut water martini on the table for him and Mrs. Reese. She had sat down in the circle across from Mr. Holliday. Gordon took the glass in his hand with practiced elegance. “Besides, now that I’ve met you and am convinced you’re the right person for the job, I’m willing to make you an offer that will make this a very simple decision.

  Anya cocked her head back. Did he think she was that shallow? That she could be bought with some amount of money. There was not enough money in the world— “Look, I don’t care what your offer is, I’m no nurse maid.”

  While she spoke, Gordon wrote on a piece of paper and slid it across the table to her.

  She looked at the paper, then back up to Gordon. “Sir, I really don’t think you understand, I’m happy in Westfield.” She reached down and lifted the paper. “I can’t be bought.” She unfolded it. “You’ve got the wrong—” She stared at it. An incredulous chuckle slipped out of her mouth. “Is this a year?”

  Gordon grinned. “A month.”

  Anya gaped at the number written on the paper. “Month? You’re offering me this amount a month? Plus paying off the last two years of my contract at Westfield’s clinic?”

  “See! We don’t have any kind of misunderstanding. You understand perfectly!”

  “I-I don’t know what to say.” A traitorous smile quivered at her mouth.

  “Say you’ll take the job. All I’m asking you to do is work with Billy for… say three months. Like a trial contract. At the end of three months, you will know if there is anything you can do to help my son. If that happens, I’ll give you a bonus.” He sat back in thought. “How about I set you up in a clinic of your own?”

  “A clinic of my own!” She dropped her gaze to the floor. “Three months? You expect a miracle, don’t you? Three months isn’t long enough to work with a T-5 and 6 injury.”

  “Well, it’s long enough for you to know if this is a doable arrangement.” Gordon glanced at Mrs. Reese.

  Anya cleared her throat. “Um, can I think about it?”

  “What’s there to think about?”

  Chapter Three

  Anya stared at the man. “Seriously? Money doesn’t dictate my life or my decisions. I need time to think about this.”

  Gordon lifted his brows high on his forehead and yet closed his eyes. “But you—” He sighed. “Fine, when can I have an answer?”

  Anya’s eyes darted about the stateroom. How could she answer that? She didn’t know how much time she needed to think this through, but she understood his need to have a date. “Give me a week?”

  His eyes widened. “I’ll give you five days. I need an answer by then. Roger will come get you.”

  Anya choked. “If my answer is no, there’s no need to come get me. Can I call, or text you, or something?”

  Now Gordon grinned. “I like looking a person in the eyes when they reject my offer.”

  Anya swallowed. “Fine. I’ll see you in five days with my answer.”

  He jerked a nod. “Good! And Miss Stepanov…”

  She stood still, focusing her gaze on his eyes that were so similar to Billy’s, only with a few crow’s feet that actually made him look more distinguished. Was this a hint at what Billy would look like when he matured? “Yes?”

  “If your answer is yes, go ahead and bring your things.”

  “My… things?”

  “Yes, I’d like you to start by October 1.”

  “Does this include an apartment or a hotel room?”

  “Holliday Island Resort employees get some sort of small living quarters depending on the island they are on, but because of the nature of your job with William, you will be issued living quarters above the gymnasium, same as my son.”

  Anya tilted her head, absorbing what Gordon said. “Could I see these living quarters before Roger takes me back to Westfield?”

  “Of course.” Gordon clapped his hands with delight. “Roger. Fire up the bird. Miss Stepanov wishes to tour the island before she returns to Westfield to make her decision.”

  Roger nodded and rushed to the helicopter, fired up the engine, and sat patiently in the pilot seat. Anya turned back to Gordon. “Um. Thank you. I-uh, appreciate your hospitality.” She wanted to say so much more, like: I’ve never flown in a helicopter like that, or been on a yacht, or to Alaska; but she felt her awe would be lost on him. He was quite comfortable with this luxurious, extravagant life.

  “My pleasure.” Gordon stood to walk her to the helipad. “I look forward to hearing from you in five days, or sooner. Just call this number when you’re ready.” He handed her a plain white card that had ten digits in green ink. His phone number? Well, a phone number. She took it and ducked to get into the helicopter. Roger handed her the earphones, she slipped them on her head, adjusted the mic, and fastened the harness.

  “You ready?” His voice was odd again in her ears.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” She turned to wave goodbye to Gordon Holliday who still stood waiting for them to lift off, like a relative who watches his loved one leave. Mrs. Reese stood beside him. They didn’t seem romantic, just business partners. He had said she was a potential investor. Perhaps they were potential business partners?

  However, he was an interesting man. He waved back with a sparkling smile that exuded confidence. She had no idea what her decision would be. Just because this was a financially lucrative offer didn’t mean she’d jump on it. Three months was a long time if one was completely miserable. And she could totally envision being completely miserable with a man as arrogant and spoiled as Billy C
. Holliday.

  Working with a cranky patient was normal for the job, but having one exclusive, narcissistic patient who had unbelievably high expectations could be very wearisome. He seemed to be the type who threw money at the problem rather than dig down deep into his inner being and work hard to rehabilitate from his injuries.

  She just wasn’t sure she had the patience to endure his attitude on a twenty-four-seven-three-sixty-five basis. Well, it was only three months. Ninety days. She sighed. To spend any amount of time with America’s most eligible bachelor might not be so bad. He certainly was not hard on her eyes. And once it was over, it could be a worthy sacrifice of her sanity for a quarter of the year to have the last two years of her contract with the Westfield Clinic paid off, giving her freedom to stay or go wherever she wanted. Plus, she could bank the salary offered by Gordon. Goodness, she could live off a small portion and invest the rest, have a nice nest egg when the time was over to do whatever she wanted. If Billy did not meet Gordon’s expectation for recovery, she could open a clinic of her own, on her own, with the savings. She’d always dreamed of that.

  Roger tipped the helicopter’s nose down, and they flew across the darkening water. She pondered all these things as she stared at the silhouetted iceberg peaks in the distance, like mountains framing the horizon. It was beautiful here, what she could see. It was full-blown fall in Alaska. The trees were turning, the grasses were still green, but changing to brown.

  Soon they landed on a helicopter pad. Roger exited and stooped to run around under the slowing blades. He helped her unbuckle the harness and held out his hand to assist her to the ground. She stared in wonder at the architecturally vivid buildings that were up-lit from immaculate garden beds. Dusk made everything look magical. Like a work of art itself, the buildings were incredible. It looked like a modern, if not futuristic, village spread across the island.