by Locklyn Marx
She was sitting up in one of the emergency room beds, reading a magazine.
He looked her over. There were no bandages. No scratches. No IVs or other medical instruments hooked up to her arm.
When she saw him, she shut her magazine. “Took you long enough.”
“Took me… ” he trailed off. Was she giving him attitude? For not showing up quick enough? “What the hell happened?” he asked her.
“I fell.” She shrugged. “And then they didn’t know if I had head trauma or not, so they made me wait until someone could take me home.” She rolled her eyes, like she couldn’t believe how ridiculous it was.
He pulled up the tiny stool that was against the wall and sat down. “Where’s the doctor?”
“I don’t know. She’ll probably be back in a minute. She said when you got here she would ‘brief you on my condition.’”
Reid glanced at his watch. He hoped “brief” was going to be the operative word.
“Did you just look at your watch?” Alexis asked.
“No.”
“Yes, you did.” She shook her head. “You know, I didn’t even want them to call you. But they said they had to. They said someone needed to be here with me.”
Talk about being ungrateful. Like he really wanted to leave his big meeting to come down here. Especially for a fall. They couldn’t have told him that over the phone?
That she’d fallen? It was probably just a skinned knee.
“Hello,” the doctor said, walking into the room. “I’m Dr. Snyder.” She was tall with long dark hair, and under different circumstances, Reid would have turned on the charm. But now he just wanted to get the hell out of here.
“Hi,” Reid said, nodding.
“You’re Alexis’s…?” the doctor trailed off.
“I’m her roommate,” Reid said. God, that sounded strange.
“But only for a few more days,” Alexis chimed in. “And then I’m leaving.”
“Okay.” The doctor’s eyes moved from Alexis to Reid and back again. She seemed suspicious, like she couldn’t decide what exactly it was that was going on here.
You and me both.
“So what happened?” Reid asked.
“Well, it seems as if Ms. Castalano was out walking when she had some kind of panic attack, and then fainted.”
He looked at Alexis. She was staring down at the floor now, all traces of bravado gone from her face. “You had a panic attack?” he asked. He knew about panic attacks.
He used to get them in college, right before a big test or before an interview. He’d learned how to manage them over the years, and he hadn’t had one in a while. But he remembered how horrible they were. Your throat felt like it was closing up, your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt like you were going to die.
He also knew that panic attacks didn’t just come out of nowhere. They were usually triggered by something – stress, worry, or anxiety.
“It wasn’t a panic attack,” Alexis said, and rolled her eyes. “I just got a little hot and dehydrated, that’s all.”
The doctor ignored her. “She’s going to need to be observed for the next twenty-four hours. When she went down, she hit her head and got a slight concussion. Her MRI is clear, but we need to watch her. If she starts vomiting or starts to have a headache, she needs to come back to the hospital.”
Great. Now he was going to be on baby-sitting duty. Or roommate-sitting duty.
This was worse than that time last month when Jack adopted a kitten and then disappeared for three days, leaving Reid to take care of it.
“I’m fine,” Alexis said. But her voice sounded wobbly.
“I’ll take care of her,” Reid promised the doctor. He was going to miss his meeting. But what choice did he have? Alexis Castalano, he thought, shaking his head.
I haven’t even slept with you and you’re somehow fucking up my life.
***
If you asked Alexis, this whole thing was completely ridiculous. First of all, she hadn’t had a panic attack. Panic attacks were for people who were, you know, panicking.
And she wasn’t. She’d just started feeling thirsty.
People fainted all the time from being dehydrated. It used to happen to her students constantly. One too many minutes rehearsing for the spring show in the auditorium or playing on the playground on a hot day, and wham! They would drop like flies.
She’d tried to tell Dr. Snyder that, but had she listened? No. She thought she was so smart just because she had a medical degree. Then, they’d called Reid because they’d found his number in her purse! They’d gone through her things, and called him because it was hospital policy. Talk about an invasion of privacy.
Then he’d come down here, which was completely embarrassing.
And now, to top off the complete and utter humiliation of the whole debacle, they were making Reid take her out of the hospital in a wheelchair.
As soon as they got onto the sidewalk, she stood up.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Okay.” They stood there, staring at each other. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. She supposed she should thank him for leaving work and coming down to get her.
“You could at least thank me for coming down,” he said.
“Thank you for coming down.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You can go back to work now, though,” she said. “Seriously, I’m fine.”
He shook his head. “No,” he said. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” she said. “Seriously, I’m fine.”
“The doctor said I have to watch you. So I’m going to watch you.”
He took her hand and hailed a cab.
***
When they got back to the apartment, Alexis tried to go and lie down in her room.
But Reid wouldn’t let her.
“No way,” he said, leading her over to the couch. “You’re not lying down.”
“Are you serious?” she asked. “They said for me to rest.”
“You can rest. Just not unattended.” He walked to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of water. He set it down on the table in front of her. “Drink that.”
She opened it and took a sip. She hated that he was ordering her around.
“Now,” he said. “You should probably eat something.” He returned to the kitchen, and she could hear him poking around in the refrigerator. She didn’t know why.
All he had was peanut butter and jelly.
“Right,” he said, slamming the door. “We’ll order lunch.” He produced a bunch of menus out of a drawer and set them down in front of her. “What do you like? Thai?
Greek? Chinese?”
She shrugged.
“Oh, God,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who doesn’t eat.”
“I eat!”
“Okay,” he said, sitting down next to her on the couch. He fanned the menus out on the table in front of her. “Then what do you want?”
She wasn’t hungry. But she didn’t want him to think she was one of those girls who “took care of herself.” So she grabbed the Chinese menu. “Chicken with broccoli, spring rolls, and pork fried rice.”
Reid nodded his approval. “Good.”
He went to place the order, then came back into the living room with a pillow and a blanket, which he put down on the couch.
“Who are those for?” she asked.
“For you.” He spread the blanket down on the couch and then fluffed the pillow.
“Lay down.”
She just sat there.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded.
“Nothing, it’s just…it’s kind of weird to be laying down in front of someone.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” She shifted on the couch. “I mean, I hardly know you. And now you want me to lay down on your couch? “ It was a little strange.
“It’s
not just my couch,” he said. “You live here too, now.”
“Yeah, but still.” She reached out and fingered the pillow. It was covered in a crisp white pillowcase that felt cool and soft to the touch. “I just met you.”
“Trust me,” he said, grinning. “You won’t be the first girl to be laying on the couch right after she met me.”
She stared at him blankly. “I guess that’s supposed to be a joke.”
“Yeah. It’s a joke.”
But she knew it wasn’t. He might have been trying to be funny, but obviously he’d had many women here. If he wasn’t taking care of her, she would hate him. Hell, she kind of hated him anyway.
“Lay down,” he said again.
“I’m fine.” But she was settling back into the couch. He draped the blanket over her, and she leaned her head back against the pillow. It was soft and luxurious, and for a quick moment, she closed her eyes.
The buzzer rang from downstairs. “It must be the food,” Reid said. He hit the button and told the doorman to let the person up.
“Do you always do that?” she asked, raising her head.
“Always do what?”
“Just let people up when you don’t know who they are.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you didn’t even bother to ask who it was.” One of the reasons Alexis had taken this apartment was because Jack had assured her there was a doorman at this building. It added an extra layer of security and protection that she needed.
Reid frowned, like he didn’t understand. “But I just ordered food.”
“Yes, but how did you know it was the food? It could be an intruder or something!”
He laughed. “Hilarious.”
There was a knock on the door, and he crossed the room and opened it. Sure enough, it was the delivery guy. Reid paid him and brought the food into the living room.
“How much do I owe you?” Alexis asked, propping herself up on the pillow behind her. She readjusted the blanket over her body. How was it that he had such nice things? This blanket was way too cozy to exist in a man’s apartment.
“Don’t worry about it.” Reid was in the kitchen now, gathering up plates and utensils.
“Thanks.” Usually she would have protested, but since she hardly had any money, she’d allow him to pay for her. Just this once.
He came back and loaded her plate up with Chinese food. Then he picked the remote up from the coffee table.
“Do you mind if we watch the game?” he asked. “I DVR’d it last night, and I haven’t had a chance to watch it yet.”
Alexis shrugged. “It’s your house.”
He turned the game on. Baseball. Great. Out of all the sports, baseball was her least favorite. Not that she was all that interested in any sport, but she could at least get into a good basketball game if she had to. Baseball was so boring. It took hours and hours, and most of it was just the players standing around. Plus if one team was up by a few runs, there was no sense in really even watching the last few innings. At least in basketball, you felt like anything could happen.
Fifteen minutes later, Reid was completely absorbed in the game. He kept yelling things at the television, like, “Oh, come on!” and “He was safe!”
“So you’re a Yankee fan, I take it?” Alexis asked. She pushed a piece of rice around her plate.
“Of course.” He looked at her, a piece of moo shu pork on his chopsticks.
“You?”
She shrugged. “I don’t follow baseball.”
“Well, now that you live in New York, you’re going to have to decide.”
“Decide?”
“Yeah. Are you a Yankees fan or a Mets fan?”
She shook her head. “What’s the difference?”
He sighed, like her question pained him. And then, before he could answer her, there was another buzz from the intercom. “Hold that thought,” he said and crossed the room. He pushed the button, then glanced at her and made a big show of saying, “Who is it?”
“Someone’s here to see Alexis,” the doorman answered. “Shall I send him up?”
Reid looked at her, and Alexis’s blood ran cold. She couldn’t speak. That same feeling that had come over her on the street flowed through her again, and the room felt like it was spinning.
She became dimly aware of Reid looking at her, asking her if she’d invited someone over.
“Alexis?” he asked. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said. Or at least, she thought she said it. She suddenly felt completely disconnected from her body, almost like she was watching herself in a movie or on television.
“Alexis?” Reid crossed the room. “You’re pale,” he said, looking at her with concern. “Are you having another panic attack?”
“I don’t know,” she said. She felt dizzy, and her fingers were numb.
“Here,” he said, sitting down next to her. “Put your head between your legs.”
She did as she was told.
“Just take deep breaths,” he said. He had his arm around her shoulders, his hand holding hers.
She kept breathing until she felt her heart starting to slow.
“That’s it,” he said, rubbing her back. “Nice and slow.”
The buzzer rang again.
Reid looked at her. “I’m guessing that whoever that is,” he said, “you don’t want me to let them in.”
She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I don’t.”
Chapter Four
Reid looked at Alexis, sitting there next to him on the couch. She seemed so small and vulnerable. His heart clenched as he remembered the look of fear that had crossed her face when she realized she was having another panic attack.
He wanted to push her on who, exactly, was downstairs, but he had a feeling she didn’t want to talk about it.
So he got up and crossed to the intercom, and said, “Send them away, Charlie.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you,” Alexis said. The color was returning to her face now, and her hands weren’t shaking anymore.
He sat back down next to her. “You’re welcome.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
“Do you want something to drink?” Reid asked. “I could make you a coffee or a tea.”
She looked at him incredulously. “You have coffee and tea?”
“Yeah.” He grinned at her, deciding to lighten the mood. “I keep it on hand for when I bring women over.”
She shook her head and gave him a look like she couldn’t believe what a pig he was. For some reason, even though he’d made the joke, it bothered him. He liked it better when she’d been looking at him with thanks and adoration.
It was an uncomfortable feeling, realizing that he craved her approval. He didn’t even know this woman. Why would he give a shit what she thought about him? He headed to the kitchen and brewed her a decaf coffee, which she flavored with cream and about five sugars.
He watched her as she drank. The baseball game was still on in the background, but he’d completely forgotten about it. He knew she probably didn’t want to talk about what was going on, but had the right to know. There was obviously someone she didn’t want to see, someone who knew she was at his apartment.
“Alexis – ” Reid started gently.
But she cut him off. “So about this Yankees-Mets thing…”
“Alexis.”
She looked down at the cup in front of her and wrapped her hands around the mug. She shivered a little bit and took a slow sip. “Fine,” she said, looking at him. Her blue eyes were dark. “I’m running from something.”
He nodded. “Something? Or someone?”
“Someone.”
“An ex-boyfriend?”
She nodded.
“Okay.” This, he could accept. Ex-boyfriends didn’t worry him. Reid had a lot of experience with crazy ex-boyfriends. One time a girl he’d brought home from a bar had to call the police because her ex-boyfriend showed up at his apartm
ent.
Ex-boyfriends could be handled with fists and if it came down to it, law enforcement. It was much better than drugs or money laundering or anything like that.
“So what’s the deal?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Alexis.” He sat back down on the couch. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”
She shook her head. “Look,” she said, “if you don’t want me to stay here, that’s fine. I can find somewhere else to go.”
“What?” He frowned. “Who said anything about you leaving?”
“Well, obviously you’re all concerned about my personal life.”
“Of course I’m concerned about your personal life when you’re staying in my apartment.” He realized he was raising his voice, and he shook his head and took a deep breath. “Look, you obviously have a lot going on – ”
“A lot going on that’s none of your business.” She said it quietly, like as long as she wasn’t being loud, it wasn’t a rude thing to say.
“None of my business?” he asked, looking at her incredulously. “You show up on my doorstep, out of nowhere, and I let you stay here. Then, you have a panic attack that obviously has something to do with an ex-boyfriend who’s showing up at my building, and you’re saying it’s none of my business?”
“I don’t need your help,” she said. “And I don’t need for you to feel sorry for me.”
“How can I feel sorry for you when I don’t even know what the hell’s going on?”
Reid’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. It was work. He sighed.
“Hold on a second,” he told her. “I’ll be right back.” He took a few steps into the hallway and answered the call.
“Reid Lawson,” he said.
“Hey, Reid!” It was Richard Mueller. He sounded suspiciously upbeat.
“What is it, Richard?” Reid’s patience was already wearing thin. The last thing he needed was some bullshit work problem coming up.
“Sorry to bother you at home,” Richard said, not sounding like he meant it. “I know you’ve had some kind of, ah, personal problem.” He said ‘personal problem’ like it was something only weak people had to deal with. “But I wanted to let you know that we’ve spoken to Taylor at Vista Collection.”
