“The body heals in its own time. Give it a few days and see how things look then.” He added lightly, “He’s probably playing possum to avoid his kids.”
“That would be just like him.” Jenny managed a half smile. “In the meantime, I’ll have to deal with Felicia and Irving. She’s always more needy and demanding when Harry’s not around. Irving hangs around the office, sticking his nose into everything and generally being a pain in the ass.”
“If you need help handling them, I can round up a posse of Ice Cats.”
“I may take you up on that.”
The rest of the drive wasn’t as tense as the trip to the hospital had been. Still, as they got closer to Jenny’s house, he sensed that barrier rebuilding around her.
By the time he pulled into her drive, Jenny was back to her normal, distant self.
“Would you like to come in for a coffee?” Her polite invitation was wooden.
“I should get Mom home.”
His mom frowned at his abrupt tone. “Will you be okay, Jenny?”
“Sure. Thanks again for your help today.”
“No need for thanks. That’s what friends do, look after each other.”
“Still, I appreciate it, Karina.” Jenny shot Tru a look with a message that needed no translation. He wasn’t her friend and she didn’t need or want his help.
“Don’t forget your shopping.” His mom held out a white plastic bag.
“Oh...yes...thanks,” Jenny stuttered and flushed.
Tru was relieved to pull back out of Jenny’s driveway and head home.
He hadn’t gone far when he noticed his mom’s pensive expression. “What’s up, Ma?”
“Nothing really.”
“Come on, something’s clearly on your mind.”
“I just wondered why Jenny would need pregnancy vitamins.”
* * *
“TRUMAN JELINEK CALLED again to find out how Mr. Sturridge was doing.”
Jenny tried to hide her surprise from the nurse. “How thoughtful.”
“He seems like a nice guy. You’d never guess he played hockey. Anyway, I told him there had been no change.”
“Thanks.” Jenny smiled then headed to Harry’s room.
She was relieved when the nurse turned back to her charts, instead of accompanying her. The last thing Jenny needed was a discussion about how nice Tru was.
Jenny hadn’t seen Tru in the ten days since Harry’s stroke. She felt guilty that she hadn’t made an effort to thank Tru properly for what he’d done. She couldn’t have got through those horrible hours without his help. His calm presence and steady support had been crucial. The doctors had been clear, too, that Tru’s fast action had meant Harry had minimal brain damage, improving his chances of recovery.
She owed Tru a huge debt of gratitude. How she repaid him was another matter, especially without seeing or speaking to him. Perhaps Hallmark had a suitable card.
Jenny rolled her eyes. Stress had clearly taken its toll on her sanity.
Aware that time alone with Harry was limited—his children visited every day—she slid her chair closer to his bed. He looked surprisingly well, as if he was asleep. His color was bright, with none of the pallor she saw in other bedridden patients. She almost expected him to open his eyes and demand to know when his next appointment was.
If only he would. The longer this went on, the more Jenny worried he would never regain consciousness. She couldn’t bear the thought.
“Come on, Harry,” she pleaded softly. “Enough’s enough. Time to wake up.”
Was that a hitch in his breathing?
Jenny’s gaze flew to the monitors at the head of his bed.
Nothing. Not even a tiny blip.
She looked back at his barrel chest, covered in a blue hospital gown. The steady rise and fall continued unabated. Must have been her imagination.
More like wishful thinking.
“If you don’t stop playing possum, I’ll start taking advantage. Do you really want me to play online bingo on your dime?”
Her mock threat didn’t have the desired effect. She hadn’t expected it to. Still... A shiver went through her as she wondered what would happen to her if he didn’t recover.
Don’t borrow trouble. She could count on Harry. Unlike other men in her life, he’d never let her down.
In a few days, she’d take her pregnancy test. He had to be awake for that—whichever way the result went.
Looking at her flat belly, Jenny wondered for the millionth time whether the embryo was still in her womb. She kept waiting to feel different. Not that she knew what it felt like to be pregnant, but figured she should feel something. Feeling nothing couldn’t be a good sign.
She swallowed hard and took Harry’s hand. “You can play hooky today, but tomorrow I expect to see you awake and giving the nurses a hard time.” Her voice cracked.
Clearing her throat, she pulled a newspaper and some magazines out of her bag. “So, to update you on last night’s second round play-off games, Buffalo topped Detroit in Game 3, 4–2. The Wings still lead the series, though. St. Louis took Minnesota to overtime, then beat them 4–3. That puts them up by a game over the Wild.”
Jenny read Harry the game reports, then told him the rest of the sports scores. When a twelfth inning Yankees win over the Red Sox didn’t elicit a response, she knew he wouldn’t be waking up today.
She sighed and moved on to a supermarket scandal sheet. “Now, your favorite, the latest celebrity gossip.”
Jenny had barely finished reading him the first article when a nurse warned that Harry’s children were on their way.
“Thanks for the heads-up, Dana. I’ll come back later.”
Jenny had avoided Felicia and Irving on her visits, thanks to the help of the nursing staff. She hadn’t been so lucky at work. Irving had become an almost permanent fixture, spending endless hours in Harry’s office. At least he pretty much ignored Jenny. Meanwhile, Felicia was so nervous about making even the smallest decisions for her father that she checked endlessly with Jenny about everything from which flowers to order for the house to which engagements to cancel.
Jenny stuffed the magazines into her bag and rose. “I’ll drop by this evening.”
She smoothed his covers then leaned over to stroke his hair. Lingering for a moment, she murmured, “Hurry up and get well. I have a feeling I’m going to need you.”
“For God’s sake. Why don’t you climb into bed with him?”
Anger shot through her; Irving’s crude comment scraped an already raw spot.
She deliberately took her time straightening, knowing it would infuriate Harry’s son. When she finally turned to face Irving, his lips were pinched with irritation. Felicia hovered in the background, looking as if she’d rather be anywhere else.
“This is a hospital. There are rules about that.” Jenny flicked her hair over her shoulder. “You might get turned on by a public sexual display, but I prefer privacy.”
“You should watch how you speak to your boss.”
“I don’t work for you.”
“Actually, you do.” Triumph lit Irving’s eyes. “Felicia and I have been appointed as Father’s legal guardians and we’ve been granted power of attorney.”
Felicia nodded quickly. “It was approved this morning. Irving will manage the business while I take care of the personal side of things.”
A chill went through Jenny. So that’s what Irving had been up to.
She tried to sound calm even as she tamped down the panic rushing through her. “I thought the doctors said there was nothing to indicate Harry’s coma would be permanent.”
“They did,” Irving drawled. “But as there’s so much money at stake, I thought it better to make my temporary stewardship of the business more
official.”
Talk about putting the fox in charge of the henhouse. “I see. I guess you’ll want to set up a time to go through your requirements with me.”
“That won’t be necessary. I don’t need your services.” Irving smiled smugly. “You’re fired. Effective immediately.”
Jenny gasped. “You can’t do that.”
“Actually, I can and I have the court documents to back me up. Clear any personal possessions out of the office by the end of the week.”
What would she do? How would she support Lizzie? “What about notice and the salary I’m owed?”
Irving’s smile turned feral as he drew an envelope from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to her. “According to this contract, you’re entitled to two weeks’ salary or payment in lieu. The money will be in your account by close of day tomorrow.”
This couldn’t be happening.
Jenny opened the envelope, took out the papers inside and flipped through them. Her stomach dropped when she saw the terms. “This contract is out-of-date. That’s not my current salary. It hasn’t been for years.”
Irving shrugged. “That’s what we’re obliged to pay, unless you have written proof otherwise.”
She cast her mind back, desperately trying to recall any formal letters about pay. “There must be something in my file about my raises.”
“That’s all there was,” Felicia said apologetically. “I made them double-check because I was surprised Daddy hadn’t updated your contract over the years.”
“And you seemed so important to him.” Irving shot his cuffs. “He may have given you all his attention, but he gave us what really mattered.”
Light-headed with the news, Jenny couldn’t react to the snide envy in Irving’s tone.
He continued, “Unless you can produce documents proving something different, we’ll fulfill the letter of your contract.”
She fought to keep her expression neutral, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing how badly his news had shaken her. If there was ever a time for Harry to open his eyes and rescue her, it was now. She didn’t need to check the monitors to know her wish hadn’t been granted.
What would she do? She had to find a way to get through this nightmare until Harry woke up and fixed this mess. One thing was sure, she couldn’t stay here.
Jenny moved toward the door.
“One more thing.”
She stopped and turned. Her heart lurched as Irving pulled a familiar, crumpled cocktail napkin out of his pocket. A terrible roaring filled her head. She grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself.
“It seems you owe our father a substantial sum of money. Expect a letter from our lawyers.”
“Not right away, of course.” Felicia’s smile was overly bright, her tone eager to please.
Irving shot his sister an irritated look. “But we will call in the debt.”
Unable to force a word past her tight throat, Jenny walked out of the hospital room, holding her chin high. She managed to hold herself together, until she reached the parking garage and sank into her red Audi TT. Lowering her head to the steering wheel, she swore.
How could she have let this happen? How could she have left herself so vulnerable?
Surviving without her paycheck would be tough enough. No way could she afford to pay back that IOU. Three-quarters of the money had already gone to the IVF clinic, with the rest due any day. There was just enough left of her savings to scrape together the payment due soon for Lizzie’s tuition and board. Otherwise, she was flat broke.
Jenny drove home in a daze; half her brain on the traffic, half on what she could do to make ends meet. Get another job. Sell her car. Sell stuff on eBay. Rob a bank.
As she pulled into her driveway and parked, she was no closer to a solution. Though, obviously, robbing a bank wasn’t a viable option. She didn’t have a gun or a stocking mask.
Getting out of her car, Jenny felt a slight tug in her womb.
She froze.
The tug came again. Her breath caught. Please no. Not this, too.
Her body trembled as she waited anxiously to see if it happened again. After a few minutes, she released her breath in a hiccuping sob.
Must have been a false alarm. A warning that she couldn’t take any more stress.
The phone was ringing as Jenny walked into the house. She was tempted to ignore it, but changed her mind when she saw who was calling.
She’d barely said hello before Lizzie demanded to know what was wrong. “Is it Harry? Is he worse?”
Jenny closed her eyes for a moment and tried to sound normal. “No. He’s the same.” She explained about Felicia and Irving being appointed Harry’s guardians. “But I’ve been fired.”
“How dare they? You’re Harry’s girl Friday.”
“I should’ve seen this coming when Irving brought his secretary with him.” Lizzie’s fury on her behalf soothed Jenny’s battered soul, but it didn’t solve her problems. “I can get another job, but not one that’ll pay even half what I earn now. I’m hardly well-qualified, with only a GED. I shouldn’t think Irving will give me references, either.”
“There has to be something you can do. It’s an unfair dismissal. Talk to Maggie or her sister—they must know a lawyer you can talk to.”
“I can’t afford a lawyer.” Jenny bit her lip. “Don’t worry. I’ll figure something out. Besides, once Harry gets better, this will all be fixed.”
Assuming he got better. She couldn’t bear to think about the alternative.
“Why don’t you do something hockey-related? Maybe something in the media. You have incredible knowledge of the sport and you’re familiar with the teams and rinks. Players, coaching staff and commentators already respect your insights. I’m sure readers would, too.”
Lizzie’s words made Jenny pause and consider. People in the game did feel comfortable around her. She was often asked advice about shots or plays or her opinion of the opposition.
A tiny bubble of excitement bounced in her stomach. “That’s a good idea. I know the sports editor at The Journal. Maybe he could find a slot for me. Though, technically, there’s only a few weeks left in the season.”
“There’s still all the stuff over the summer—the draft, free agency. It’s worth a shot.”
By the time Jenny hung up, she felt a little less panicked. She had a few options she could pursue. She sank onto the couch and leaned her head back against a cushion as she made a mental list of who she could approach.
She’d got half a dozen names on the list when the tug in her lower belly returned.
This time, it didn’t stop, but turned sharp and stabbing, like a period cramp.
Even though she’d given up believing in God years ago, she sent a quick plea heavenward. Don’t let me lose the baby.
Jenny sat motionless on the couch, delaying. She knew what she had to do, but once she did that, all hope would be gone. Sure, she’d have to wait a few more days to take the pregnancy test to confirm it, but the evidence would be there.
As the seconds passed, the pain got worse until she was clutching her belly. Finally, she could bear it no more. She forced herself to go upstairs. Her heart thudded heavily with each step. Once in the bathroom, tears spilled down her cheeks.
Jenny didn’t need to see the blood to know the IVF had failed.
CHAPTER THREE
THE LETTER HAD looked like a harmless piece of fan mail.
Tru’s hand shook slightly as he smoothed the scrunched sheet of paper. There had been nothing special about the handwriting. Even the Boston return address had seemed innocent.
As innocent as a puck bouncing up your stick and into your face, at ninety miles an hour, and just as damn painful.
He tossed the letter onto his kitchen table and paced the room.
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Why now?
As if Tru didn’t have enough uncertainty in his life. Trade rumors had exploded with the announcement of the new general manager. Callum Hardshaw was a known rebuilder, with a reputation for clearing out deadwood fast. According to most sites and blogs, Tru was at the top of that pile of logs. Not the news he’d wanted or needed, with the Draft only weeks away, followed by free agency.
Now this letter.
After so many years of silence, what had prompted his father to write, asking to meet? And why to Tru? Ike was the eldest, it would have made more sense to reach out to him.
Tru halted, staring down at the lined, white paper as if it could answer his questions. But it offered no more explanation than the few lines he’d read a hundred times.
“Did you think I’d be a softer touch?” His voice echoed in the empty apartment.
An all-too-familiar guilt tightened his shoulders. He’d had to bear the pain of keeping quiet about his father’s infidelity, then the anguish of knowing the action he’d taken had blown his family apart.
His gaze lifted to the family snapshot on the refrigerator. His mother looked tiny, almost fragile, next to her broad-shouldered, towering sons. But Tru knew the strength behind the delicate appearance. The determination that had kept her going when her husband had walked out, leaving her with four young boys; one still an infant. The stubbornness that had enabled her to keep her family together no matter how hard things got.
A second photo showed his mother laughing with Jake’s mom. How would things have turned out if Tina and Gio Badoletti hadn’t stepped in to help?
The doorbell rang, followed almost immediately by several loud knocks.
The cavalry. Sort of.
Jake pushed past Tru as soon as he opened the door. His blue eyes scanned the apartment. “What’s up?”
Now his friend was here, Tru wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing by calling him earlier. He’d needed to share this with someone. As close as one of his brothers—they’d grown up together—Jake knew all about what had happened between his parents.
Well, not all.
“Thanks for coming, bro,” he hedged, leading the way back to the kitchen. “Can I get you a coffee? Beer?”
A Perfect Trade (Harlequin Superromance) Page 5
