by Lexy Timms
“You’re right,” said Chrissy, with ice in her voice. “I don’t deserve you as my representative.” They were conciliatory words but spoken in a tone meant to send a chill down the spine. Chrissy could play hardball, too. If Charles lost this lucrative deal it would look bad for him with his firm, something no head hunter could afford.
“Now wait,” said Charles in a gentler voice. “Let’s not be hasty.”
“I’m not, Charles,” said Chrissy. “What do you think it means to me to take off on a job around the world when my father is about to get open-heart surgery?”
“I’m sorry, Chrissy. I didn’t know. Of course, we’ll make sure you get time off for family emergencies. It’ll be in the contract.”
Having played this card, and Charles walking back his attitude, left Chrissy with little ammunition. Then she thought of one more card to play. “I’ll need my own assistant.”
“What?”
“Someone I can rely on to help me through my day. Say about $125,000 a year, plus expenses.”
“What?” At that last “what” Chrissy imagined that Charles’ head exploded.
“You can take it out of my salary, but the assistant thing is non-negotiable. I need to have someone to fill in so I can take care of family emergencies. Among other things. I run a good business. You know it. I’m not indispensable.”
“I’ll propose it, I guess.”
“Good. If he says yes to it, then I’ll have dinner with him and give him my final answer.”
“I can work with that.” He clucked. “But, Chrissy?”
“Yes?”
“No more bullshit. You keep adding more things, changing things. It might be a game to you, but men like James Paterson know how to play, too. Watch yourself. Tough is good, but thick-skulled is dangerous.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Chrissy. “Talk to you later.” She put the headset back in the cradle gently, though she was more annoyed than she wanted to admit. It seemed the only way out of her current troubles was taking James Pearson’s job offer, and she didn’t like the idea one bit.
A sudden noise in the outer office jolted her. She glanced at her computer and saw it was only seven- thirty. She got up and walked to the door and opened it. A woman was bent over Jess’ desk, riffling through her drawers. What Chrissy saw was a wriggling rear end in an obscenely tight red skirt that could only belong to one person.
“Chloe, what the hell are you doing?”
Startled, Chloe whirled toward Chrissy. “I, um, was looking for a pencil.”
Chrissy arched an eyebrow, unconvinced by Chloe’s thin excuse for violating Jess’ privacy. “Don’t you have the key to the office supply closet?”
“Um, yes. It’s just that it’s at the other end of the office, and—”
“Then get one there. Jess doesn’t use pencils.”
“Oh, okay,” she said weakly. She scuttled from Jess’ desk on stilettos that were too high for any office setting.
As she rounded the corner, ostensibly to walk to the supply closet, Jess stepped off the elevator. She carried the morning’s coffee in a carrier and Chrissy took it from her hands gratefully. “Aren’t you the early bird?” said Jess.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Cronuts. A little office bribery.”
“Bring them into my office. I don’t want to reward bad behavior.”
“Since when?” said Jess with an evil smile.
“Since I found Chloe going through your desk. Don’t you keep it locked?”
Jess frowned. “Of course, I do.”
Chrissy motioned for Jess to follow her into her office and she shut the door. “I hope you don’t keep confidential information in the desk.”
“Of course not. I’ve known Chloe’s a snoop since my second day here and I found her sniffing around my desk.”
“That’s good.”
“That doesn’t stop me from leaving breadcrumbs in it, though.”
“Breadcrumbs?”
“I learned this in my last job. I leave little pieces of stuff there, maybe a matchbook cover from a lowlife bar, or a ticket stub to an X-rated show, that sort of thing.”
“Why?”
“To get her going, that’s why. I love to see her face turn red when I look at her across the office. One day I left a dildo in my top drawer.”
“You didn’t.”
“Yep, then I put it in long paper bag and held it while I asked her to cover the phone while I went to the bathroom.”
“Dildo in hand?”
Chrissy imagined the red-faced look on hypocritical Chloe’s face while she stared at the dildo in the paper bag as Jess innocently asked her to cover the phones. It must have been priceless.
“Yep,” said Jess with a smile. “What’s she going to say? That she was going through a locked drawer and found it?”
“I had no idea you were this evil. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Plausible deniability, boss. I didn’t want you to get in trouble for my pranks.”
“Well, now I know,” said Chrissy. “And officially I must tell you that I highly disapprove of your behavior.”
“Yes, boss,” said Jess, with appropriate solemnity.
“Otherwise,” said Chrissy with a broad smile, “good job.”
Her phone rang again, and because Jess wasn’t at her desk she picked it up.
“Chrissy Serafini,” she said.
“Chrissy?” said Charles. “Good news. He agreed to the assistant. So, where’s the dinner going to be?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Mr. Parks?” A young woman dressed in dark blue scrubs with a take-no-prisoners expression on her face approached him. “I’m Angelique, your CNA. How’re you feeling this morning? Do you want your head lifted?”
“Head lifted? Oh,” he said as he realized she saw him struggling to sit, “yes, please.” The sling on his arm made handling the bed controls difficult.
She moved the bed and then the wires that moved the bed control to the other side so he could use his good hand. “How’re you feeling this morning?”
“Like I was hit by a bullet.”
She gave a hard smile. “I’m sure it feels awful. Your nurse will be in shortly to bring you pain meds. You can’t shower yet, but how about a bed bath?”
Saks looked at the lovely young woman, and then at the probie, Hawk, who Oakie had sent to watch Saks’ back. He was a big bruiser who spent as much time in the gym as riding his Harley. He sat on a chair by the door, taking everything in. Saks knew he’d take ribbing for the whole bed bath thing from the Spawn. Hawk was sure to make a joke of it some night at the clubhouse. In Saks’ younger days he might have even thought the offer sexy. But now, with two holes in him, one in shoulder and the other in his heart from Chrissy leaving, he couldn’t even work up a good smile over the thought.
Angelique caught Saks’ glances to Hawk and pulled the privacy curtain to shield him from prying eyes. “Before we get started, did you order your breakfast?”
“No. I thought they just brought it in.”
“You get to pick and choose these days. We have the basic stuff, bacon and eggs and things like that. You have no diet restrictions from your chart, so you can have anything. What would you like?” She pulled a phone from her pocket.
“I guess scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast.”
“Okay. Coffee? Juice?”
“Sure.”
“Helen, this is Angie on the seventh floor, Mr. Parks, room 501, needs breakfast.” She repeated the order and slid the phone back into her pocket. “Now, don’t you worry. We have this all worked out to a system. I’ll only expose what I’m washing and the rest of you will be covered with this sheet. And I’ve seen everything, so just relax, okay? I’ll be quick and you can tell any story you like about it.” She winked at him, and Saks relaxed as much as he could from the pain radiating from his shoulder.
Angelique laid out a towel under his arm and loosened the tie on his hospital go
wn and drew it to his waist. She dropped a thin flannel blanket over most of the exposed area as she ran some water to fill a plastic tub. With efficient swipes of her hand, she cleaned his upper body with a soaped washcloth, first one side then the other, moving the towel as she went.
“You really aren’t feeling well, are you?” she said. “Usually my male patients have a few words to say about me manhandling them.”
“I’ve had a busy couple of days.” He smiled weakly at the lovely young lady, but that’s all he had in him.
But more than that, Saks didn’t care. He wanted to go home. Bury his head under his pillow and pretend the world didn’t exist. At the hospital, nurses fussed over needles and lines in his arms, and took his blood pressure at odd hours of the night. The hospital was no place to rest. Yeah, he’d been out of surgery less than forty-eight hours, but if he stayed here he’d never get better.
As soon as she was done and put on a clean gown on him, breakfast arrived. It was okay food, if slightly cold. But when he looked at the eggs he remembered Chrissy slamming her Eggs Benedict on his head and walking away in a huff. He lost his appetite and pushed the tray away.
When the doctor arrived it wasn’t his surgeon, but the man’s surgical resident who came to check on him. He checked notes on an iPad. “How’re you feeling?”
“Just fine. I want to go home.”
“Let me check your wound,” the young doctor said. He peeled away the dressing and stared at it as if he could divine the fate of nations. “It’s healing well, but you need another couple of days here.”
“Naw, I’ve got buddies to wait on me hand and foot. My ma’s cooking a bunch of food to stuff in my freezer. I’m good to go.”
The doctor threw a doubtful glance at Hawk, as if entrusting Saks to his care was a monumentally bad idea.
In Saks’ current mood, it pissed him off. “I could just put on my clothes and walk out of here.”
“You could. However, I don’t recommend it.”
“Look at me, Doc. Do I look like I care?”
The doctor appraised Saks, the scars on his body, and the tribal tattoos on his arms. Maybe Saks looked like the Boy Scout of bikers with his leather jacket with his stylishly short hair, but when his clothes were off he was just as rough-looking as the rest of his buddies.
The resident huffed. “Okay. I’ll check with the doctor in charge. If he okays it, I’ll write the orders.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
The doctor walked out of the room, shaking his head.
“Hey, Hawk,” called Saks, still stuck behind the curtain.
“Yeah?”
“Get my clothes. I’m jumping ship.”
“You sure about that?”
“One way or another, I’m leaving here.”
Hawks’ chair scraped. “Oakie said he stocked your place with beer.”
“Well,” said a nurse, pushing past Hawk and opening the curtain, “you won’t be having any of that, or the doctor won’t prescribe pain meds.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “So, you don’t like us, huh?”
“My own bed’s more comfortable.”
“You won’t be saying that when you’ve tossed and turned on it.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Tough guy, eh?”
“Mostly.”
She glanced at the half-eaten food on his tray before she picked it up and handed it to Angelique, who followed her in. “And you don’t like the food.”
“I’m an Italian boy. Mama’s cooking’s always best.”
“I didn’t figure you for a momma’s boy,” she said with a glint in her eye. But her playful words didn’t do a thing for Saks except to remind him how much he wanted to get out of the hospital.
“I’m not,” said Saks.
The nurse removed his lines and changed his dressing with the swift and sure movements of a person who did this one too many times. “You’re going to need to change this daily.”
“I’ll make sure it happens.”
“Don’t tug on it hard or you could rip the stitches.”
“I’ll have my ma or my sister do it.”
“No girlfriend?” she persisted. “Pretty girl here last night won’t be coming around?”
Saks almost grunted. The remark jolted his heart painfully, and he turned his head away. The image of Chrissy walking away from him while he lay helpless in his hospital bed haunted him like a nightmare that he couldn’t shake. “Nothing serious.”
“Too bad.”
“Not so much. The kind of life I live, women don’t tend to hang around.”
Luke walked into the room just then and snorted at the remark. “Idiot,” he mumbled. He waited till the nurse left before made another comment. “What’s with you, Saks? Women don’t tend to hang around? What a load of shit. You won’t give them the time of day.”
“Shut up.”
Luke shook his head. “Like I will. Hawk texted me to say you’re leaving. What the hell?”
“I’m breaking out. The doc’s checking if I can do so now, but considering all I’m doing is annoying myself and the nurses, they’re probably glad to see me go.”
“Don’t you listen to him,” said the nurse, popping in again. “He’s been fine. Just moody.” She looked at him pointedly. “Because he got shot.”
“Look,” said Luke, “you probably should stay a couple more days, just in case.”
“That bell’s already been rung,” said the nurse, shaking her head. “And Mr. Parks here wouldn’t have any of it. The doc signed off on your release. Here’s a list of dos and don’ts and a prescription for pain meds. We’re referring you to our visiting nurse program, and they’ll get in touch with you later today or tomorrow to arrange visits. There’s the number to call if you have any concerns. If you call at night, it’ll be the answering service that picks up the call, but they’ll relay it to the doctor on call. When you’re ready to leave, ring us and we’ll get you a wheelchair to the door.”
“Give me five minutes to dress and I’m outta here.”
The nurse left and Hawk stepped outside by the door.
Luke shot Saks a serious expression of concern. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Just help me with my jeans, eh? This damn sling they have me wearing is going to drive me crazy.”
“What? Can’t handle your pants one-handed?”
“Damn, you’re obnoxious today.”
“Funny, Emily said the same thing before I left,” mused Luke. He helped Saks with his socks, jeans, and boots. “What about your shirt?”
“We’ll have to take off the sling to get the gown.”
“Maybe we should call the nurse,” said Luke.
A small commotion at the doorway caused them to turn their heads. Hawk steadfastly blocked the door.
“Look, I’m a police officer—”
Saks groaned. Seriously? Now? “Hawk, let him in. He’s my cousin.”
Louis Anglotti pushed past Hawk. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Getting dressed.”
“I can see that. Why?”
“To go home. As much as I love the food and bed baths of Hotel ‘de Hospital, I’d rather sleep in my own bed.”
“That’s not a very good idea.”
“Can everybody please stop saying that!”
“We have the guys who broke into your place and shot you. But they aren’t talking. They lawyered up. Whoever hired them isn’t finished. Going back to your place is a very bad idea.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Chrissy dropped onto her couch after turning on the tub to run a hot bath, thoroughly exhausted, without taking off her work jacket. She kicked off one shoe, but the other dangled on her toe because she didn’t have the energy to fling it off. She could chalk up her weariness from the hectic day at work but it wasn’t the entire truth.
The fact was, her heart hurt. It thudded dully, as if given half a chance it would stop beating. Each thump spread of a wave of sorr
ow through her chest, and her lungs would only draw shallow breaths against the emotional pain. Chrissy had never believed that something like this could happen but it did.
Her heart was broken.
Now that the shock had worn off from seeing him lying in the hospital bed, she obsessed over those last moments with him like a teenager listening repeatedly to a favorite song. But there was no pleasure in these replays. Leaving Saks two nights ago took every bit of strength she had, and she hated herself for it. She chided herself for her heartlessness. Chrissy judged her family for the callous way they earned their living, but she was no better than they. Saks lay in pain after surgery, and all she did was walk away. If that didn’t make her a horrible person, she didn’t know what did.
But more than that, she missed him. That she’d receive no more suggestive texts, sexy phone calls in the middle of the night, or hold his handsome body against hers ripped open a hole in her heart that refused to close.
This whole situation was wrong.
The only thing right about it was that she was sure she didn’t want to get drawn into the type of world in which her father and grandfather lived. She wanted a normal life.
That wasn’t possible with Saks.
Heart versus head. Head: 1.
Her phone rang, and she remembered it rang several times on the way in, only she didn’t answer it. Sluggishly, she removed it from her purse and saw it was Gloria. “What?” she said unenthusiastically.
“Whoa,” said Gloria. “Who took away your joy?”
“What do you want?”
“I called to help. Unless you don’t care who ordered the hit on Saks.”
Chrissy sat up. “Who was it?”
“Oh, now you’re all business?”
“Gloria.” The warning in her tone was enough to let her sister know she wasn’t fooling around.
“Do you remember that ruckus last year with that Hispanic biker gang?”
“Yeah?”
“They’re pretty pissed that Saks belongs to the family that brought the DEA down on them.”
“So, it wasn’t from our side?”
“The Rojos hired those goons to attack him as payback.”
