Crazy Nights (The Barrington Billionaires Book 3)

by Danielle Stewart

  “How should I know?” Emmitt shrugged.

  “Do you hope I will?”

  “Hope?” Emmitt scoffed. “I’m not a fairy. I’m not a twelve-year-old girl. I don’t hope things. I either make them happen or I walk away.”

  “You haven’t walked away from me,” Charles countered smugly. “Using your own logic means you intend to make this happen. You will fight until I’m better. You’re giving me a chance I haven’t earned. Even if it costs you. That sounds a lot like the way you described Evie.”

  Emmitt opened his mouth to counter, but no argument came. He wouldn’t say out loud that he hoped his father would recover. It would take every torture tactic known to man to get him to say those words. But in the tiny quiet spaces of his mind, he had to admit it was something he couldn’t bury completely. He had an image of his father sitting on the couch with him, watching an old cartoon. They each had a bowl of cereal in their laps. It must have been a simple Saturday morning where nothing else mattered, and the world outside their living room didn’t exist. Even if he wouldn’t say it out loud he wished that man was still in there somewhere. Was wished better than hoped? Fuck, probably not.

  “Don’t stay here,” Charles pleaded. “Don’t fall further in love with her as she figures out how to fall out of love with you.”

  “We’re meeting the doctor in fifteen minutes,” Emmitt said, clearing his throat as he brashly changed the subject.

  “You said she was a behavior therapist?” Charles asked with an arrogant tone. “Maybe she’ll make an appointment for you too.”

  Chapter 36

  Evie underestimated how much courage it would take to beg for a job. But Sophie Barrington had made it fairly painless. And that woman had some impressive contacts. Before she knew it Evie was working with a small acting company who performed at many charity events centered around children. It was silly work, fun and distracting, and it was almost enough to forget how much her heart hurt. Almost.

  The best part about the job, besides the free food that came after the fancy galas, was the connections she was making. Many recognizable actors and actresses volunteered with the charities when they were in town, and Evie was managing to make connections she didn’t think possible with her history. She swapped stories with some seasoned professionals about horror stories they had with various directors or producers, and even though she wasn’t getting any huge offers, she felt better knowing she wasn’t alone. They’d invariably tell her to hang in there or don’t give up.

  “Tonight should be cute,” a kind faced waitress said as she spread a crisp white tablecloth over one of the thirty-five tables spread across the banquet hall.

  “We’re going to be doing a really good show for the kids tonight. I think they’ll love it.” Evie grabbed the other half of the tablecloth and helped straighten it.

  “You don’t need to help set up,” the waitress laughed. “There’s a hierarchy around here, and trust me I’m at the bottom.”

  “I’ve got nothing but time,” Evie joked as she started unstacking the chairs. “If I’m not here, I’m at home thinking about how bad my life sucks. That’s why this job’s been so great. Nothing gives you perspective like sick, hungry, or homeless kids. It’s hard to feel bad for yourself when faced with that reality.”

  “You’re right about that.” The waitress laughed. “I’m Lilly and I do appreciate the help in case it sounded like I didn’t.”

  “I’m Evie and I hope I didn’t sound too depressing.”

  “Not at all. I’m the queen of sitting home and being miserable. Some people sew, some people cook. I like to drink wine and complain about all my old boyfriends. I consider it a good night if I don’t drunk text someone.”

  “I’ve been locking my phone in a drawer at night.” Evie giggled, happy to find a kindred spirit tonight. “I put sticky notes on it to remind myself why I shouldn’t call him.”

  “Like what?” Lilly asked, looking fully engrossed in her techniques.

  “The most obvious reason not to call is that he hasn’t called me.”

  “How long has it been?” Lilly asked, empathy pouring from her eyes. “Is it a pretty fresh breakup?”

  “About a month,” Evie said, still not believing it had been that long. But some things had begun falling into place. The money she was saving had been enough to get herself settled into a tiny studio apartment over an Indian restaurant. She’d been in contact with her brother and managed to send him enough money so he could quit one of his jobs and repair his car. Next on the list after a couple more gigs was to start her mother in a halfway-house program that did not address her addiction but first stabilized her living arrangements. The cost was manageable, and Evie was hopeful if things kept going in the right direction, it would be settled in a few weeks.

  “Maybe after this we should go hit the town and forget our guy troubles,” Lilly offered as they spread another silky white cloth across a table.

  “Maybe.” Evie shrugged. “I’ve never been very good at letting loose.”

  “Me either,” Lilly admitted as her cheeks grew pink. “I just figured that’s what people do. How about friends, do you have many in the city? Your phone has chirped like ten times since we started talking. You must know someone.”

  “Just some people I met in Texas. I owe them a phone call. Friends of the ex-boyfriend. I was trying to stay low key about it, but I guess they aren’t taking the hint.”

  “Sometimes it’s just better to call them back and tell them straight out,” Lilly suggested. Evie nodded her agreement and tucked her phone into her pocket. After her job tonight she would call Jessica back. Enough time had passed, and she felt like she was standing on her own two feet again.

  “I will call her back,” Evie said confidently.

  “Can it wait until after we set the tables? You’re really good at this.”

  Chapter 37

  “Evie,” Jessica scolded. “I’ve been calling you for three days.”

  “I know,” Evie apologized. “I was just trying to take some time before talking about all of it. I didn’t want to put you in a weird position.”

  “Have you not heard?” Jessica asked in that kind of voice that made the hair on the back of Evie’s neck stand up.

  “Heard what?” Evie rasped out nervously.

  “Emmitt was in an accident. He’s being flown back from Botswana.” Jessica might as well have been speaking another language. Evie could hardly register any of it.

  “Botswana? Africa? Why was Emmitt in Africa?”

  “He took his father there. He was undergoing treatment and trying to keep him from gambling. As far as I know things were going well. They were even getting along okay. But there was a jeep accident.”

  “Is he all right?” Evie asked, bracing herself against the closest light pole on her walk home.

  “He needs surgery on his leg, and they have some concerns about his head injury. But the family agreed he would get the best care here in Boston. We’re all here together now. Libby and James just arrived.”

  “Here in Boston? You’re here?”

  “Yes, why? Are you too? Did you never leave? When I heard Emmitt went to Africa without you I assumed you went back home to Nebraska.”

  “I’m in Boston,” Evie explained frantically. The idea that Emmitt was somewhere overhead right now, trying to get safely back to a hospital here, made her knees weak. “When will he get here? Where are they taking him?”

  “I’m not positive yet,” Jessica said as she broke away to talk to someone else in the room with her. “Just come meet us. I’ll send a car for you if you tell me where you are.”

  “I’m just leaving work,” she said, looking up at the street signs around her. “I was walking home. There’s a coffee shop, Brews Cruise. I can wait there.”

  “All right, I’ll have Mathew send a car for you now. Hang tight.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t,” Evie said as she stopped in her tracks and thought about the last conversatio
n she and Emmitt had. He’d gone off to Africa and not said a word to her again. Now when he was hurt, struggling, was it really fair to just show up?

  “Evie, you’re coming. I’ve learned enough about these Kalling men by now to know you need to be there when he lands. They are experts at watching things fall apart; they need people willing to put it back together for them. They think they’re the strong ones, but it’s us. It’s you.”

  “I don’t feel strong. Every time I think of him, I feel pretty weak. I never really knew where I stood with him until he finally said he loved me. Then a few hours later it was over. That has to be a record. Hell, it has to be a sign. It’s not supposed to be that hard.”

  “It’s supposed to be exactly that hard. You’re supposed to think about them so much they can feel it even when you’re apart. You find little pieces of them in your life, in everything you do, in every song you hear. All of that is happening when this is over. Imagine how great it’ll be when you fix it.”

  “Maybe you should give him this speech.” Evie sighed. “There might not be little pieces of me in everything he’s been doing.”

  “The car is on its way. When they called Mathew to tell him about the accident the medics asked who Evie was. Apparently Emmitt was begging for them to find you. You are all he wanted. He watched this fall apart, but he wants your help to put it back together. When the car pulls up, get in.”

  Chapter 38

  “Oh no,” Evie said as she stepped into the private waiting room of the hospital and then turned quickly around and left. Mathew was on her heels, following her down the hallway.

  “Where are you going? We should be hearing something about Emmitt soon. He’s just arrived and is being assessed.”

  “I need to go change. I didn’t know your mother was here already.” She pointed to her red shirt and watched his face tighten.

  “You know about that?” he asked, his eyes turning up toward the ceiling. “I didn’t realize you and Emmitt had gotten as close as you had. I’ve never known my brother to bring a woman home to meet my mother before.”

  “It was just weird circumstances that brought me to your mom’s house, nothing more.” Evie kneeled down and started digging through her large purse. “I have a sweater in here. It’s blue.”

  “Trust me, Evie, if Emmitt didn’t want you to meet my mother there would be no way he’d allow it to happen. He must really trust you. My mother’s condition is fragile and usually harshly judged by people.”

  “Unfortunately whatever caused him to take me there wasn’t enough to keep us together,” Evie murmured as she slipped the sweater over her head. “I hope he’s all right,” she squeaked out before the tears came.

  “Me too,” Mathew admitted, looking thoroughly uncomfortable by her show of emotion. She quickly wiped her tears away and tried to gather herself to hear Mathew’s response. “The doctor assured me the moment he had an assessment of Emmitt’s condition he’d be down to see us. This is one of the top hospitals in the country, and he’s head of neurosurgery.”

  “What can I do?” Evie asked, fidgeting in what felt like utter uselessness.

  “Come do what the rest of us are doing,” Mathew said, gesturing toward the private and sterile looking waiting room.

  “What’s that?”

  “Waiting, worrying, and feeling like we should be doing more.”

  “Sounds right,” she said in a breathy laugh.

  As they walked in, Evie took stock of all the bloodshot worried eyes, reminding her of the serious situation. The last month had been full of things Evie dreamed of saying to Emmitt, and the idea that something might keep her from it made her stomach churn with anxiety.

  “Does anyone need anything?” Libby asked, always quick to accommodate people in need. “I can go get coffee.”

  “That would be nice,” James said, rising from the chair he was in and grabbing his wallet.

  “I’ll help,” Evie offered but was stopped short by Emmitt’s mother.

  “He wants you here, dear. You’re all he’s been asking for. We have no idea how he’s doing. Now that he’s back and getting a full workup, we might find this to be more serious. The doctor told us head injuries are very unique. The variables are endless.” Her hand seemed permanently clutched over her heart in concern. “I’m rambling, but my point is he was asking for you. I want my boy to have what he wants when he wakes up. He wants you.”

  Evie searched for words and came up empty. Every eye in the room was on her now, and she felt her cheeks burning with anxiety.

  “Am I interrupting?” a tall dark skinned man with curly white hair asked as he stepped into the room. Libby and James stopped taking the coffee order and everyone fell deathly quiet. For once Evie felt she understood the depth of that phrase. Deathly quiet.

  “Dr. Myers,” Mathew said, shooting forward and extending his hand for a firm shake. “How’s my brother?”

  “The flight took a toll on him,” Dr. Myers said, launching right into the details, skipping any formalities. “It was still the right choice to bring him back here. We have far more medical options, but that flight was difficult. In short Emmitt suffered a traumatic brain injury. They performed a craniotomy on sight in Botswana and it saved his life. But it’s the type of procedure that needs consistent care and monitoring. We can provide that.”

  “What exactly is it?” Jessica asked timidly. “The craniotomy.”

  “A flap of the skull is removed to take pressure off the brain so it can expand as needed. Here it’s routinely used, but in Botswana it was far more emergent and risky. It’s a great sign that he survived it.”

  At the sound of the word skull and brain Emmitt’s mother lost her footing and gave in to the weight that seemed to be thundering down on her shoulders. She fell into James’s arms and sobbed. “His brain?” she cried. “It’s bleeding?”

  “It is, but I intend to do surgery to repair it. The bleed is fairly small. The swelling has stopped, and some doctors would say we should watch it, hope it corrects itself. But my experience tells me we are better off not playing the wait-and-see game. His long-term outcome could be significantly improved if we remove the hematomas that remain.”

  “What exactly is the long-term outlook,” Mathew asked, a shake in his voice he tried unsuccessfully to cover. “I thought he was conscious, talking even.”

  “Immediately after the incident he was. That was prior to the bleeding and pressure in his skull. I will say the doctors in Botswana were incredibly proactive. They ensured he was given ample oxygen, and preforming the craniotomy absolutely saved his life as I mentioned. But I can’t pinpoint what functions he has possibly lost. Head injuries are moving targets. Recoveries vary from patient to patient even when their injuries seem similar.”

  Evie tried to overlook the cold and matter-of-fact tone the doctor used to explain Emmitt’s condition.

  “Libby, James, would you take my mother downstairs for a break? Maybe something to eat?” Mathew stuffed his hand into his pocket and turned halfway around to avoid watching his shaky mother being led from the room.

  When they were gone he continued his questions. “Dr. Myers, I’d like to hear more about the possible prognosis my brother is facing. Anyone else who wants to clear out can, but I need to hear it.” Harlan, who’d been completely silent as she leaned like a ragdoll against the wall, finally spoke.

  “Me too,” she edged out. “I want to know, too.”

  “There’s a wide range,” Dr. Myers reiterated as he settled in one of the plush chairs in the corner of the room and crossed his legs. “The gravity of lasting effects and deficiencies depend upon the severity of the injury, the location in the brain, and the age and general health of the patient. Emmitt is healthy and fit, that works in his favor. But it’s important to know some common disabilities include problems with cognition, which is thinking, memory, and reasoning. Other issues center around sensory processing such as sight, hearing, touch, taste, and smell. I’ve had many cases
where communication, like expression and comprehension were compromised. Some less common but very impactful deficiencies can come in the form of behavior or mental health issues like depression, anxiety, personality changes, aggression, acting out, and social inappropriateness.”

  “We may not be able to tell the difference if that’s the case,” Mathew joked, and they all reluctantly chuckled. “He was always fairly inappropriate.”

  The doctor broke the small moment of levity in half, like an axe slicing through old brittle wood. “More serious head injuries can result in an unresponsive state or what we call a PVS, a persistent vegetative state.”

  “There’s a chance he won’t wake up?” Evie asked, her chest heaving with fear as she held her breath and waited for the answer.

  “With head injuries and brain surgery that is always a risk. I’m not in the market of making promises on the outcome. But what I can assure you is, while he is on my table and under my care, I will treat him as if he were my own son.” The doctor rose after a moment as stunned silence seemed to fill the room. “We’ll take him to surgery once the consent forms are signed. I’ll have someone keep you posted throughout.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” Mathew finally choked out when Dr. Myers was halfway out of the room. They all sat quietly for what felt like an eternity as the reality of Emmitt’s prognoses set in. What if he never woke up? What if he woke up but couldn’t see or hear? What if he was plagued the rest of his life with horrific challenges and limitation?

  “He’d hate this,” Harlan said softly, shattering the quiet. “Of all the people I’ve ever met I can’t think of anyone who would hate this more than Emmitt. If he isn’t himself when he wakes up, he won’t want to live.”

  “If he wakes up,” Mathew corrected, to which Jessica winced and hushed him before trying to force some optimism into the room.

  “He’ll wake up, and whatever he has to deal with, he’ll have a lot of people to help him.”