Until Randolph she dated only briefly, a few men here and there, and she never lived with one. How on earth would she dress him? She sat down on the floor and scanned his shoes sorted by color and type, touched the sneakers she never saw him wear, and smiled at the dozens of dress shoes.
At spying a pair of what she would dub rock star boots, complete with buckles and zippers, a laugh escaped her throat. He practically hid the pair at the end of the row where they were almost camouflaged by some long hanging garments, like robes one would wear for a graduation.
What would Randolph do if she brought these to the office? She leaned way over, practically lying on the floor and picked one boot up. By the wear on the soles he never wore them, but she wondered if he secretly wanted to, maybe like he wanted to create his art. She wished he would take her on one of his secret creations.
A slight blue glow caught her eye when she went to replace the boot. With a shake of her head she scooted over on the thick carpet, moved the clothes aside and unveiled a small, simple safe with the door ajar. The glow she observed came from a light on the combination keypad. Though she never owned anything worth enough to put in a safe, the fact her husband had one didn’t alarm her. Everything about him seemed to have a value attached.
Every molecule in her body told her not to peek, but almost beyond her control she inched over, opened the door a bit more and looked inside.
Papers. A few file folders inside, holding more of Randolph’s precious papers.
She exhaled and went to leave the safe as she found it, taking one last snoop before returning the door to its almost locked position, but she spotted her name written on one of the tabs.
For at least two minutes she wrestled with the idea of spying. Four times she reached in the safe to touch the folder and four times she recoiled. Her struggle told her the answer, but still, on the fifth time, she reached in and grabbed the stack of papers. “He’s my husband.” She said her justification aloud to make sure the universe heard her.
Without leaving room for her to turn back, she opened the folder and exhaled. Her birth certificate and mother’s death certificate lay on top of the stack. She smiled. Randolph must have put them away for safe keeping along with their marriage contract. She touched the stationery. Their wedding almost seemed to have happened to someone else while their marriage was most definitely grounded in reality. She crossed her legs and took her time turning through the rest of the pages.
Behind her contract were several more stapled documents.
As she read the next paper, her chest tightened. The document was the one outlining Randolph’s marriage circumstances. Though a tiny part of her always wondered if everything he said was true, outlined in front of her were his tasks, everything he needed to complete to earn his spot in the family. Everything except marrying her.
No doubt her husband was incredible. Most people couldn’t accomplish half of what Randolph had done in thirty-three years in their entire lifetimes. She pressed her palm to the paper, praying his father realized who he had for a son.
She turned to the next page and held her breath. As she suspected the page dealt with his marriage, but was scratched out with a thick black pen and a note to see the revised contract.
Revised?
Her throat dried out, but she continued on and went to the next document, not a contract, but a formal letter from Randolph to his father.
She skimmed past the salutations and other business conventions and focused in on the main paragraph.
Regarding the marriage duration, it should be noted that any marriage I undertake will be under duress. While I have no desire to ever be married, I will comply with your demands but only for one year. At the end of said year, the marriage will be dissolved and that will complete our contract in total. I further request it be noted that I find this convention a cross between some medieval torture and an arranged marriage, the practice antiquated and unnecessary even for a Van Ayers. Know that no matter what the circumstance is of my forced nuptials, it will be ended as fast as I can have the papers signed.
Though her hand shook and her eyes burned from tears she would not allow to fall, she took a quick glance at the last page. Sure enough, the final contract with Randolph’s end date was clearly noted and contained the required signatures to make everything legal. While Randolph might be in constant competition with his father, there was no doubt as to the winner. Randolph the third could manipulate everything, including changing one of his sacred contracts to suit his needs. Certainly he made the year easy for himself by manipulating her to fall in love with him.
Her heart stopped at her own admission, and rather than swelling, it shriveled, sank into her non-feeling stomach where the organ could suffer in a pool of acid. With robotic movements, she managed to return the papers to the safe, stood and put on some of her old clothes.
Her instinct betrayed her. Since Christmas she swore he felt something for her, but no matter what, as he eloquently stated in his letter, the marriage would end, which was why every time she mentioned the end he didn’t argue. He didn’t want a wife, and therefore, he didn’t want her.
She spent weeks trying to distance herself, a strategy she should have continued, but she followed yet another dream only to be woken up in a shocking manner. Oh she wished she would have gone to school then maybe she would have been smart enough to see this coming. Unfortunately, the tarot and tealeaves betrayed her.
Nan would simply tell her she asked for a disaster the moment she agreed to marry a man with the end in sight.
The tears dried, she couldn’t afford them.
Instead, she left Randolph’s closet, walked across Randolph’s suite and pulled her wallet and cell phone out of Randolph’s purse.
The light on her phone flashed indicating a message, probably her so-called husband needing something else when she had nothing left to hand over. Randolph owned everything.
She exhaled, hit the button and froze.
No, Randolph didn’t call, but Jade had as well as Slate multiple times. She hadn’t yet spoken to them, apologized for all that happened, and in turn they kept their distance only giving her waves or head nods if they passed each other in the alley.
Before she had the chance to listen to even one message, Jade’s name flashed across her screen.
She almost dropped the phone in her attempt to answer. “Jade, I’m sorry.”
“Willow!” Jade practically screamed into the phone.
“What’s wrong?” She held on to the edge of the dresser and concentrated on hearing her friend over her own heartbeat.
“I went to your shop to talk to you and found Nan passed out on the floor. I called 911 and we are on our way to Cedars Sinai Hospital.”
The tears she fought won out and streamed down her cheeks. “What happened?” She only remembered Nan having one cold in all the years they were together. Nan called it a sniffle, took some herbs and the next day she was fine.
“We don’t know. Slate and I are on our way, meet us there.”
She rushed toward the door. “Is she alive?” Bile stung the back of her throat and her muscles threatened to give out, but she managed to reach the stairs.
“Yes,” Jade whispered.
“I’m on my way.” She hung up and went to call Randolph. A woman should be able to call her husband in times like these. He would make it better, he should make it better. She wouldn’t be alone.
Instead, she dropped the phone and ran down the stairs in search for someone else to help her. He was her husband in name only. She would have been better off as one of his staff members.
Chapter Fifteen
On Christmas Eve Willow told Randolph how strange it was when time changed things. Equally as strange was how many things remained unchanged. A hospital never changed. Maybe technology changed or staff changed but at its core a hospital was a place where one faced the bare essence of being human, life and death, gain and loss, every emotion here had a corresponding side. A yin
and yang.
The last time she entered a hospital she lost. Maybe the universe would balance itself out and give her a gain. Though almost two decades had passed since that day, the passing time didn’t change the hurt.
After running through a maze of corridors, she finally caught sight of fluorescent green and ran toward the woman she considered her friend before she lied.
“Willow.” Jade held her hand out.
Even with everything, she encompassed her with love and Willow held on and waited for her to deliver her fate.
“Nan is still in the emergency room. They’re evaluating her, she’s alive.” Jade held her tight. “Slate has Jeb at the gallery.”
“Thank you for finding her.” She hid her face in Jade’s shoulder, partly for comfort, partly from shame. Her mind had been cluttered with Randolph, what she thought she had, and while she went off chasing rainbows she never noticed Nan was ill. Yes, she noticed the woman had been tired but she thought it only natural. She didn’t look beyond.
“Of course.” Jade patted her back.
“I’m sorry about everything, please forgive me.” Before she did anything else she needed to cleanse the air. She lifted her head, and at last faced her actions. “I did it all for every reason you thought and I didn’t want you to think less of me.”
“But not now, right?” Jade asked.
Funny how time changes things. Her little saying rang through her mind. A few hours ago she would have said she got married and then found her partner. Of course, he would have been here and she wouldn’t have to answer.
“Is the family of Nanette Riviera here?” A woman in scrubs called from a doorway.
“Here!” Willow held up her hand.
“I’ll stay with you.” Jade stayed by her side.
“I promise I will tell you everything later if you forgive me.” She turned to her friend. “I just need to be alone, if that’s all right.”
“No forgiveness needed, I just wanted to be there for you.” Jade hugged her. “Are you sure?”
“Please.” At the end of the day it was always her and Nan. She gave her other friend a hug and went to the nurse. “I’m the family of Nanette Riviera.”
“Your name?” The woman opened the chart.
“Willow Day. May I see her? Is she okay? What’s wrong?” She wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “Please, she’s my only family.”
“We have a full house and are swamped, we can’t let you back there. Go wait in in the outpatient waiting room. Once I have any news I will come get you.” The nurse pointed to a door.
“Please.” She only wanted a peek.
“I told you we’re very busy.” The woman left.
“Please.” She spoke to an empty door and turned behind her to find Jade gone. With no other choice, she went to the small hospital waiting room and took a seat in the corner.
If Nan had been sitting next to her she would have told her to use the time to meditate, visualize what she wanted. At the moment she could only think of two things, one was lying in a hospital unconscious, one wanted to get rid of her no matter the circumstances on their one-year anniversary.
After simply staring into space for some undetermined time period, she glanced up at the clock. After she saw Nan she would call Randolph, tell him what happened, and ask for a reprieve on their bizarre curfew. Never would she be the one to welch on their business deal. Until then, she would sit and wait.
Suddenly, the door flew open and two men in green scrubs ran in. “Sir, I think we found her,” one man yelled.
Her heart ground to a halt and she tried to stand. “Nan?”
“You are all useless, and don’t think I haven’t made a note of every error this hospital has made.” Out of nowhere, Randolph stomped into the room.
Her breath caught. In a long black overcoat and with blond curls bouncing, he appeared to be more of a superhero than her on-paper husband or a teen model. How did he get here?
“Now if you don’t want to end up mentioned by name at the next Board of Directors meeting, I would find Dr. Eli Huntley, give him Nanette Riviera’s Chart and get him here STAT!” He tilted his head toward the door.
The men bumped into each other and hurried away.
Once the door closed, Randolph turned. Somehow he appeared by her side, and without saying a word took her into his arms.
His overcoat surrounded her and she became encompassed in the serene scent of Randolph. Beyond her control, she held on, taking hold of him and giving in to her own weakness by pressing her face into his already wrinkled shirt.
He combed his fingers through her hair. “Why didn’t you call me?”
She chose to stay silent. The hospital didn’t seem the place to discuss his contract or her sneaking around and looking at documents. Nothing was important but Nan.
“Willow.” He forced her back and looked into her eyes. “Why didn’t you call me? Why did I hear about this from Dimitri and Slate?”
The tears in her eyes blurred her vision giving Randolph a golden aura. “I left my phone at home. I was going to call. I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I would have called you before midnight.” Yet another thing he manipulated to keep her controlled.
“I thought we were beyond that. I want to know why I wasn’t the first person you thought to call?” His hands squeezed her shoulders.
Not quite sure how to answer, she swallowed. “Can we not do this now?”
He ground his teeth together, but nodded. “Where’s Nan? What’s happening?”
Her lip quivered. “They won’t tell me anything, the nurse just told me to come here. When I asked again, she walked away.”
After watching Randolph for months, she thought she figured out every one his expressions, except the one he wore at the moment.
His eyes darkened and narrowed, his mouth opened as if prone with something to say. The boyish charm that made everyone smile and swoon at the sight of him had vanished. “They wouldn’t tell you anything?” His voice came out disjointed and metered, as if he were holding back some great pressure.
“I didn’t know what to do, so I sat here.”
He let go of her. “Let me get this straight. They wouldn’t tell you anything or let you check on her at this hospital where my mother is in charge of the charity events and my business donates money?”
She swore she saw a vein on his neck pop out.
“Why are we even in here?” His face turned red and he glanced around the room as if finally noticing his location. “What room is this?”
“Randolph.” She held her hand out.
He pointed to one of the plastic chairs. “Sit there.”
Scared to do anything else, she sat.
Right as he spun on his heel and headed toward the door, it opened once more. A man in a doctor’s coat entered. Around the same age as Randolph, he seemed to be the anti-Randolph with dark hair and eyes. “Randolph!” All smiles, he extended his hand. “I’m glad you caught me on call. I’m upstairs, handling the VIP’s.”
Randolph crossed his arms. “Doctor.”
“What brings you here? Why are you in here? Who is Nanette Riviera? Everyone okay?” The doctor kept his hand out.
“No everyone is not okay.” Randolph leaned forward. “My wife’s Nan is here, where they relegated us to no-man’s land on this floor and wouldn’t tell her anything.” He motioned toward her as if showing exhibit A.
“Wife? I must have missed that memo.” The doctor glanced at her and hit Randolph on the shoulder. “Congratulations.”
“Doctor.” Randolph tapped his foot.
The doctor held up one finger, flipped through the chart and took a pen out of his pocket, clicking it several times before turning to her. “What is your relationship to Nanette Riviera?”
“She raised me.” All her life she tried to come up with a word to describe their relationship, but none ever fit.
“Mother.” Dr. Huntley made some notes on the chart.
“Doctor.”
In need of nothing but good light around her, she had to tell the truth.
The doctor winked at her. “No one ever checks.”
She sat back. “Is she going to be all right?”
Randolph returned to her and held out his hand.
Her resolve completely gone, she reached up and took the gift.
“Let’s see. She came out of ER a while ago and was placed in a room on this floor. She was diagnosed with hyperglycemia.” He clicked the pen some more and shook his head. “She came in with an astronomical blood sugar. She has diabetes. I’ll change some of these test orders, but once we get her sugar stabilized and get her on some meds, she’ll be fine with a change in diet and lifestyle. Let’s get her upstairs and then you can all crash for the night.”
For the first time since she walked into one of her worst nightmares, she exhaled. “She’s going to be all right?”
The doctor nodded. “This is all treatable.”
“She’s been out and then taken to the non-private rooms?” Randolph laced his finger in hers. “What’s going on here?”
“Here’s the main problem.” The doctor tapped his pen on the chart. “Someone forgot her married name.”
“What?” Randolph let go of her and stepped forward.
“She put her name as Willow Day. If they heard her name, you know they would have been jumping at your feet.” Again, the doctor wrote on the chart. “Let me fix this.”
For a brief second Randolph looked down to the floor, a momentary break in his aristocratic façade. “I don’t need to tell you that I want Nanette to have the best of care. Money isn’t an object, and Nanette is covered under our insurance policy.”
Insurance? Randolph got Nan health insurance? A lump formed in her throat. He certainly wasn’t acting like the man who wanted out of their marriage come his thirty-fourth birthday. She hoped she was covered as well because she might pass out.
“Let me get this handled. Go upstairs, I’ll try to hurry them and we’ll all meet you there.” The doctor handed Randolph a plastic card, saluted and walked out.
On The Dotted Line Page 22
