She winced. “I hear that camera-phone pictures of me swinging bare-butt from the balcony are cropping up on the Internet.”
“Not so many.” His eyes twinkled as he pulled a chair next to her bed and sat down. “I checked.”
She laughed. “Thanks a lot.”
“That was quite a fall. You’re lucky you escaped with only a broken arm.”
Carlotta winced. “I think Jack got the brunt of it.”
“Just a few bruises. The man wouldn’t even let the paramedics check him out until he was sure you were okay.” Coop angled his head. “Although why I’m making my competition sound so good, I don’t know.”
Her cheeks warmed. “Coop, Jack and I…we’re not…we can’t—”
“It’s okay,” he said, taking her good hand. “I know. It’s complicated.”
She gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. It looks like I won’t be able to work for you until this arm heals.”
He sighed. “You’re forcing me to call Hannah, aren’t you?”
“You couldn’t find a more enthusiastic helper.”
“True.”
“Hey, is Wesley with you by chance? He’s supposed to give me a ride home, but I haven’t been able to reach him. He had an interview this morning to set up his community service, so maybe he got hung up there.” She fingered the edge of the sheet. “I hope.”
“Where else could he be?” he asked quietly.
She hesitated. “Tuesdays are usually when he makes payments to his lenders. One of the thugs that came by the house said something about a stunt that Wesley had pulled and that he was in big trouble. I’m worried.”
He squeezed her hand. “Don’t be—I’ll find him. But meanwhile, I’ll take you home.”
“I’ll take care of that,” Peter said, walking into the room with a bouquet of flowers twice the size of Coop’s. The look he gave Carlotta was pure proprietary. “How’s my girl?”
“Fine,” she murmured.
Coop released her hand and stood.
The men clasped hands. “Thank you for taking care of Carlotta,” Peter said with a smile. “But I think I can take it from here.”
Coop inclined his head, then looked back to Carlotta. “I’ll see you around.”
His eyes telegraphed that he would take care of Wesley, and her chest expanded with gratefulness. “Thanks, Coop, for the flowers and for everything.”
He nodded. “You’re welcome.”
He left and Peter walked over to set his flowers in front of the ones that Coop had brought.
“They’re lovely,” she said.
“You’re lovely.” He lowered a kiss to her mouth.
“I’m so sorry about last night. I ruined the entire evening.”
He touched his finger to the tip of her nose. “Well, there aren’t very many people who can upstage Elton John. Don’t worry—we have many evenings ahead of us.”
Carlotta smiled up at him and nodded. “Would you mind taking me home now?”
Her mobility was compromised by the cast, but at least it was her left arm that had been broken, and not her right. Within an hour, Peter had her home and comfortably settled on the couch. He brought her a glass of water and the pain pills the doctor had prescribed.
She was touched by his patience, but a little surprised—and uncomfortable—with his attentiveness. “Peter, you must have other things to do today rather than babysit me. I’m fine now.”
“I do have to get back to the office,” he said with regret in his voice, “but I want to show you something.” He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a familiar Cartier ring box—slightly faded, crumpled on one corner.
Her breath caught in her chest. “That looks like—”
“It is. It took about a hundred phone calls, but I tracked down the pawn shop where you sold it and was able to get it back. Except—” he removed the lid and opened the hinged box inside “—I had a few changes made.”
She looked at the ring and gasped. The original diamond was surrounded by two more, all three of the large stones perfectly matched. “Peter…what on earth…”
“The past, the present and the future.”
Her mouth opened and closed and panic infused her chest. “I can’t…I mean, I’m not sure…”
“You don’t have to take it now,” he said, closing the lid and returning the box to his jacket pocket. “I’ll keep it until you’re ready.”
Still stunned, Carlotta could only nod. He leaned forward and kissed her, his lips possessive. “I love you,” he said earnestly, his blue eyes shining. “Call me if you need anything.”
He let himself out and she laid her head back on a couch pillow, her mind reeling. Was Peter asking her to marry him?
And how did she feel about that? It just seemed so easy. Was that what scared her?
Restless, she got up and forced her mind back to immediate matters—laundry, dishes, a window repair shop and more bills to sort. The mundane tasks kept her mind off Wesley, the devastation over Michael’s behavior and Peter’s bombshell.
As usual, she had more than enough worries to fuel a migraine.
Later that afternoon, the doorbell rang. When she saw Jack standing on the stoop, her heart did a little cartwheel. She opened the door and smiled. “Hello, hero. Nice shiner you got there.”
He gave a little laugh and ran a knuckle over his bruised eye. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”
“Thank you, Jack. You probably saved my life—again.”
“I’m just glad this big body of mine came in handy for something.”
She pursed her mouth. “Oh, it’s handy for a lot of things.”
Jack grinned. “You’re trouble.”
“That’s what you tell me.”
He shook his finger. “I missed getting my award because of you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” He extended a plastic bag. “I brought your things.”
Carlotta took the bag with her good arm. “What things?”
“Your shoes, your purse.”
“My shoes!” She squealed. “I thought everything was scattered to the winds. Thank you, Jack. For everything.”
“Just doing my job,” he said mildly. “See you around?”
She nodded and stood in the doorway watching him leave. When she set down the bag, her pink leather autograph book fell out. She reached down to get it and it fell open to the ribbon-marked page.
To Carlotta…Get well soon. Sir Elton John
Her mind worked furiously. Get well soon? If Jack had collected the items after she’d left for the hospital….
“Jack!” she yelled.
He turned back.
She held up the autograph book. “Elton John signed my book? How did that happen?”
He grinned. “I know a guy.” He climbed into his car and drove away, while Carlotta stood shaking her head. The man was so confounding.
Still marveling, she carried the autograph book to her bedroom and removed a pile of clothes meant for the dry-cleaner to set it on her dresser, open to Elton’s autograph. She stepped back and smiled in satisfaction.
The boxy jacket that she’d worn to the memorial service as part of her costume slid to the floor. She leaned over to clumsily pick it up with one arm, and frowned at the crackle of paper.
Reaching inside the pocket, her fingers closed around a slip of paper. Bewildered, she removed it, then smoothed it out to read.
So proud of you both. See you soon. Dad.
Carlotta froze, her mind rewinding to the funeral when after turning away from Jack, she had bumped into an older gentleman….
Her heart thrashed in her chest. Her father had been there after all. In disguise, like her.
And from the note, it sounded as if he planned to surface again.
Soon.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-1643-7
BODY MOVERS: 2 BODIES FOR THE PRICE OF 1
Copyright © 2007 by Stephanie Bond, Inc.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Body Movers: 2 Bodies for the Price of 1 Page 25
