High Risk

by JLee Meyer

  Turning, she became lost in a sea of apple green and a most beautiful smile. Kate Hoffman sat right beside her.

  “Hi, Dasher. Fancy meeting you here.”

  She wore a curve-hugging strapless gown that made her look like a goddess. While most were lusting for Kate’s body, and Dasher certainly worshipped it, too, she couldn’t pull herself from those eyes that held something just for Dasher in them. The weight that forced her inertia was suddenly lifted, dissolved. Another form of heaviness replaced it, one that settled farther south.

  “Hey, Dasher, isn’t this great?” Jason was bending down to kiss her cheek. She felt like she was in a dream. She turned to Greta, who was grinning mischievously.

  “You did this.”

  “I did. I saw their names on another table and did a switch.” Tapping her temple with her forefinger she narrowed her eyes and said, “You look much better now. See? Trust Greta.”

  Swiveling back to Kate, Dasher managed only, “You’re here.”

  Kate’s lovely mouth opened a full five seconds before she whispered, “Yes.” The word had so much more meaning in it than the fact she had arrived at the event.

  Only vaguely aware of her surroundings, Dasher heard Greta introduce herself to Jason and saw Kate blink, then seem to tune in to the room.

  Kate said, “Oh, I’m sorry. Jason, this is Greta Sarnoff. Greta, meet Jason Beresford.”

  Never taking her gaze from Jason, Greta said, “I have wanted to meet this man since I first saw him.” She held out her hand palm down, a very European greeting.

  Dasher recognized enchantment when she saw it. Jason took her hand and gallantly bowed and kissed the back of it. Judging from Greta’s smile, that was the perfect response.

  “Kate, would you mind if Jason sits beside me until our other table guests join us?” Greta was quite the organizer.

  Kate tried to make herself heard. “Knock yourself out.” The room noise was picking up.

  Greta looked momentarily shocked until Dasher said, “That means ‘yes,’ Greta.”

  She seemed delighted as she settled Jason next to her.

  “Dasher, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t seated at your table,” Kate said. “In fact, when Joe Alder gets here he’ll probably blow an artery.”

  “Couldn’t happen to a nicer fella. Much as I’d like to take credit, we’ll have to blame Greta. She switched the place cards.”

  “I’m beginning to think I misjudged Miss Sarnoff.”

  “Maybe she just wanted to steal your date. I’m sure that’s what the tabloids will say tomorrow.”

  Glancing in Jason’s direction, Kate said, “He’s probably in heaven. I wasn’t much company.”

  Dasher’s heart rate rose another notch. “I wasn’t either. I think Greta figured that out.”

  “I’ve definitely misjudged her. Maybe I should send flowers.”

  “No, I’ll take care of that.”

  Greta tapped Dasher on the back, looking perturbed. “Who is that red-faced man glaring at us?” She pointedly stared over Dasher’s shoulder.

  Joe Alder had arrived at his table and was now glaring death rays at Dasher.

  “This could get ugly,” Dasher said.

  Jason stood, saying, “I’ll explain everything.”

  Then Greta pulled on his sleeve. “No, let me. I speak his language.” She left them all sitting at the table, staring after her.

  For a good five minutes, until the lights started to dim, signaling the event was beginning, they talked. At first Alder made jabbing gestures toward Kate and Dasher. Then he settled down and was listening, and finally he nodded slyly, like he agreed with everything she said. The entire time his eyes roamed over Greta’s generous cleavage and her body. He made Dasher queasy.

  Greta returned to the table and sat, downing the champagne in front of her in one gulp. They all bent forward to hear what had happened.

  “That man is disgusting. He talked to my boobies the whole time. Kate, you must get away from him, he’s not good for you.”

  Kate nodded. “I wish I could. What did you say to him? Why didn’t he drag me back to his table?”

  Smiling, Greta said, “I told him I have arranged a publicity stunting. I pretend to try to steal Jason from you and you get angry. You and I have to have a pussy battle when this is over. Okay?”

  After a full beat of silence, Kate started laughing. Grinning at them, especially Dasher, Kate said, “I’d love it. But I think it’s called a catfight. At least I hope so.”

  *

  In the limo on the way back to Greta’s house, Dasher said, “Well, that was quite a pus…er, catfight. Front page on the tabloids, I’ll bet. You two are very good actors, do you know that?”

  Dasher was still savoring the fact that she’d sat next to Kate all evening, their thighs welded together under the drape of the tablecloth. At intervals she’d chance a sideways glance at Kate and always caught a grin coming from her. When she could tear herself away from Kate and turned her attention to Greta, Jason and she were deep in conversation. The other couples at their table had simply worked around their seating arrangement.

  At one point, Kate draped an arm over the back of Dasher’s chair and reached across Dash to speak to Greta. Her dress left little to the imagination anyway, and at this angle… Dasher glued her eyes to Jason’s, well aware they were both trying their best to be polite. They were probably the only two doing so.

  Kate told Greta she loved her dress, but her face looked tense and angry. Greta responded with much thanks and a return of the compliment, but her body and face telegraphed, “Belligerent.” Amazing.

  When they stood to leave, Kate politely gave Dasher a hug, whispering in her ear, “See you at the hospital.” She then possessively held on to Jason and dragged him out of the room. Once outside where the paparazzi wielded even more cameras, Kate and Greta seemed furious with each other and huffed off in different directions, Dasher and Jason trailing after their respective dates. The scene was a masterpiece.

  Greta looked pleased. “That was fun. And I have a date with Jason. I think he might be special.”

  “Really? That’s great. Yeah, he’s a very nice guy. His sister, Stefanie, is a good friend. That’s how I got the invitation to the hotel. She and her partner, Laurel, own it.”

  “Oh, that’s what Jason was talking about. I wasn’t at the hotel that long when I went with you. Laurel is Kate’s sister, right? I intended to ask. So, how was your evening, Ms. Pate?” Her grin was infectious.

  Smiling and probably blushing, too, Dasher said, “The best rubber chicken I’ve ever eaten. Thank you, Greta.”

  Shaking her head, Greta said, “No, I thank you. When you signed me to a contract I was almost out of money and luck. Believe me, that awful man tonight is nothing compared to some of the men I’ve had to deal with.” The momentary sadness in her eyes caught Dash off guard.

  Not knowing what to say, Dasher took her hand. “I guess we’re friends, then. He would have made a scene if you hadn’t thought up that stunt.”

  Greta sighed. “Kate really cares for you. She must be afraid.”

  “Yeah, her branding is all about appealing to young boys and men. She’s straight, anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

  “Straight? Piffle. It is about one heart connecting to another heart. Once you realize that, the rest is simple.”

  Dasher nodded. Piffle? She’d come to that conclusion five years ago. But the truth that followed her like a specter was that both hearts had to believe. If one didn’t, the other couldn’t force it. She’d learned that from her mother. Evidently she hadn’t learned it well enough.

  “Well, sometimes you just have to be grateful for a special rubber-chicken dinner.”

  Flopping against the seat and staring ahead, Greta squeezed her hand and sighed tiredly. “Da.”

  After seeing Greta to her door, Dasher dozed in the back of the limousine. Long ago she had learned to live in the moment. Wishing and hoping had only brought heartac
he. As of this moment she had a friend in Greta, and Kate had told her she’d see her tomorrow. Dasher took a risk and looked forward to that possibility.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dasher stopped by Mimi’s condo to grab a suitcase early the next morning. She didn’t need to stay at the hospital any longer. Dasher mentally forced herself not to anticipate what the next few months or years would bring. After all, live in the moment, right? She could handle it.

  After surreptitiously checking to see that Kate wasn’t in the garden, she started mentally making lists of chores for Lupe and herself. Lists always helped her when things were spinning out of control. When she entered her mother’s room, she was surprised to see her mother’s physician and several nurses, busily attaching things and having her sign forms.

  Kate stood by quietly and looked thrilled to see Dasher. Momentarily caught in Kate’s gaze, Dash eventually realized that her mother was talking to her.

  “Oh, good, you’re here. Would you all excuse us? Not you, Kate. Please stay.”

  Kate nodded, standing a few feet from the bed as the others cleared away. Her hands were behind her back and she was fidgeting. She looked like a fourteen-year-old schoolgirl with a secret she was dying to tell. God, she was beautiful.

  “What are you two up to?” Dasher tried to ignore a feeling of being left out of the pack. How was it that Kate could march in and be instant friends with Dasher’s mother? The unusual and unexpected turn of events made her feel happy and a bit envious at the same time.

  “Dasher, do you mind if I have the surgery?” From the expression on her mother’s face and in her eyes, she wasn’t joking. She was actually asking permission.

  “Why are you asking me? Don’t you think I’d want you to? Oh.” When she realized what was behind the question, she gasped.

  Incredulous, she turned to Kate for verification and saw it in her eyes. They were both waiting for her decision. Anger was the only emotion that surfaced.

  “What happens then, Mom? What if the surgery is a success and you get better, just to go back to being miserable? Is that my fault? What happens if you need more chemo or radiation? Is that when you quit? Am I responsible for that?”

  Kate saw the anguish in Dasher’s face and ached to be next to her, to hold her hand. To protect her. She stayed where she was. Whatever happened next was between mother and daughter.

  Mimi said, “No! Yes…but it’s not your responsibility, Dasher. It never has been. I just don’t want to put you through any more. I’m terrified that I’ll have a second chance and I’ll fail you.”

  Kate couldn’t stop herself. She went to Dasher’s side and slipped an arm around her waist. “Mimi, if you take this chance, won’t the rest seem easy? I mean, this is the risk to live. This decision says you’re ready to change.”

  The air in the room was charged in their collective silence. A nurse dressed in blue scrubs bustled in and stopped, taking them all in. “Have you signed the form, Mrs. Pate?”

  Looking directly into Dasher’s eyes, Mimi smiled and handed her the clipboard. “Yes, here it is.”

  The woman checked it over and said, “Okay, surgery is scheduled for seven o’clock. The anesthesiologist will be in very early tomorrow. See you in there.”

  “You’ve already signed it?” Dasher’s voice was just above a whisper.

  “Yes. I want your support, Dasher, but I’m doing this. I want to try. If I fail, then nothing has changed. Kate said it well. As I thought about it, somehow I realized that’s no longer an option. I’ve already changed. Perhaps the opportunity to die made me realize how precious life is and how I’d been wasting that opportunity. I want to be your mother…again. I hope you’ll let me have that chance.”

  *

  Kate and Dasher sat in the garden in silence. Kate was tired. This friendship business was tricky. She hoped Eleanor Roosevelt was happy. She ventured a question. “Are you okay?”

  “Thank you. Your friendship with Mom seems to have made a real difference to her.” Kate detected a tone of she wasn’t sure what.

  “What do you mean?” Somehow this conversation felt more dangerous than the one that had just transpired in the hospital room.

  “I mean, hell, I mean I’ve been trying to get my mother to change my whole life. A few days with you and bingo, she’s a new woman.”

  “What? Dasher, that’s not true. Your mother has…is ill. It’s a life-threatening situation. That was the catalyst. I happened to be there and she doesn’t have any history with me. It could have been Lupe or a nurse or someone else.” Why did she feel defensive?

  Without rancor, Dasher shook her head. “I think you’re right, but I also think it was you, not anyone else. You have a special touch with her. So, thank you.”

  Kate let out a long, slow breath. “Phew. I was afraid you hated me.”

  A look of confusion crossed Dasher’s features. “I could never hate you. Be frustrated, irritated, confused, flabbergasted—”

  Holding up a hand, Kate said, “Okay, okay, I get it. So, are we friends?” Somehow Dasher’s response meant so much.

  Dasher held up her pinkie finger. “Pinkie swear.”

  Kate stared at the offer of a childhood promise. Her first one. They joined pinkies, and in that moment, Kate realized that their bond was as deep as innocence itself.

  She also realized something else. For all of their friendship promises, she knew she was lying, lying to her friend. Most of all, she was lying to herself.

  She liked some people a great deal, she kept in touch with others, and some she just enjoyed talking to. She had Laurel to confide in, but she’d never met someone, male or female, who she constantly wanted to touch, to be with, to make happy.

  When Dasher offered her pinkie and Kate accepted it, her life changed. Kate absently wondered if she could take it back, but, like Mimi and her choice to have the surgery, the genie was out of the bottle. Kate Hoffman had never felt this way about anyone before. It was terrifying and wonderful, all at once. She pictured Eleanor Roosevelt laughing and clapping her hands. That woman had a weird sense of humor.

  *

  Kate, Dasher, and Lupe sat together in the waiting room reserved for families of those having surgery. Other groups of loved ones were there passing the time while their special person was undergoing a procedure, and Kate could tell a few recognized her. They tried to give her privacy, but they were clearly watching. After all, it was a distraction from the tedium and fear. Dasher paced, made phone calls, and worried her PDA. Lupe knitted, and Kate worked on her laptop.

  At one point, Chaz Hockaday appeared, took one photo, and looked about to shoot more. Honestly, that man. Kate noticed he didn’t look so blotchy and his buddy Michael wasn’t with him. She hoped he’d found something better to do.

  Dasher was in no shape to take him on, but she visibly tensed and got ready to do battle with him in spite of being preoccupied with her mother’s surgery. Kate had put her hand on Dasher’s forearm to signal she would handle Chaz when he suddenly stilled, stared over their heads, then slipped out of the door that led to the stairs. Confused, they both turned and saw a formidable-looking man with steel gray hair and Dasher’s eyes. She’d never met Jerry Pate but thought that was about to change.

  “Dad, what are you doing here?” Dasher’s confusion seemed genuine.

  He ambled to the chair on the other side of Dash and sat. In a voice obviously meant just for her, he said, “Did you think I wouldn’t come? Mimi is still my wife and you’re my daughter. Have you heard anything?”

  He glanced cursorily at Kate but kept his focus on Dasher. Kate thought she detected concern and love in his eyes. For all of their estrangement, they were a family, and Kate felt a sense of relief for Dasher.

  “No, not yet. She’s been in surgery for two hours.”

  “Why the photog? What was he doing here?” The question seemed more directed at Kate and she realized that was his intent. He probably thought she’d arranged it.

 
Feeling guilty, Kate said, “I should have stayed away. That man has been following me for weeks. If I wasn’t here, you could have had your privacy. I apologize, Dasher. I just thought you shouldn’t be alone.” She shot an accusing glare at Dasher’s father, who had the decency to look away. She refused to back down to this man.

  Dasher regarded her father and said, “Dad, this is Kate Hoffman. Kate has been a regular visitor lately. She and Mom are friends. Please don’t run her off.”

  He grinned. “Okay, okay, sorry.” He extended his hand to Kate. “I’m Jerry. And, of course, I know who you are. My crew argued with Joe Alder until we were hoarse to get you to not try that particular stunt. That guy is an asshole, no offense.”

  Kate shook her head, appreciating his candor. “None taken. I learned the hard way that stunts should be left to the professionals. I thought your crew was excellent, but I just wasn’t up to the task. I’ll leave it to you from now on, no matter what Joe says.”

  Jerry glanced between the two and asked, “You’re friends with Dash and Mimi? How did that happen? I thought you blew her off a long time ago.”

  “Dad! Please, let’s try for diplomacy, okay?” Dasher was turning a bright pink, and Kate knew her own fair complexion didn’t hide anything, either.

  Each one of them glanced around to see who might be listening. This town had eyes and ears everywhere. The one couple still in the room was in a deep discussion with a doctor. Judging from Lupe’s curt nod and watchful expression, she had been keeping an eye on things. Kate liked her more each time they met.

  “Mr. Pate—Jerry, Dasher and I reconnected through a mutual friend and we belong to the same, er, charity. And yes, I did sign with Joe instead of Dasher.” She kept her gaze even with his. “It was a mistake.”

  Lupe’s knitting needles clacked faster, probably to keep her from nodding in agreement.

  Dasher looked down, her blush deepening. Then Jerry Pate cleared his throat, which was the only reason Kate remembered he was there.