She couldn’t have gotten far, not with those tiny little legs.
Determined to catch her, he took the stairs three at a time to outrun the elevator. When he reached the lobby, the elevator had already arrived and his worthless employees pushed their way inside.
Damn it all! The heart and soul of his company and life had escaped thinking he’d just fired her.
He had to catch her and fix matters. Running forward, he pushed the remaining employees out of his way. He didn’t slow as he reached the doors because unlike his employees, those doors always did their job and opened just in time for him pass through.
Except today.
Trent crashed into the sliding door that quivered and shook, but did not open. Dropping to the floor in pain, he cursed a blue streak. Someone snickered behind him. Not one of his worthless employees offered to help. He ignored the searing agony that threatening to knock him unconscious and called his driver. “Sam, you have to locate Carrie. She’s just left this building. Find and bring her back.” Blood ran down his white shirt. Trent touched his nose and cursed as pain seared through his brain. “I think the door broke my nose. I’ve got to go the hospital. Call me when you find her.”
Trent pushed himself up, pressed his monogrammed, fine linen handkerchief to his nose and stumbled outside to flag a taxi.
“New York’s Presbyterian Hospital,” he said as he climbed in the taxi.
“General’s closer.”
“Just do as I ask!” he growled. Why would no one follow his orders?
Why should he be surprised a taxi driver would challenge him when even Carrie countermanded his authority today?
Then I told her to leave.
He hadn’t meant it the way she’d taken it. He just needed her to leave him alone until he got his temper under control. He couldn’t remember ever being angrier or feeling more betrayed. His rage had flared beyond his control, which terrified him. He knew he’d say something that would irrevocably break the bond between them.
So he told her to leave.
When she pleaded to explain her side, the words he feared exited his mouth. “When hell freezes over.”
Stupid bastard!
The taxi pulled up into the emergency entrance. As a director of the hospital, he knew they only allowed ambulances to drive the circle. He tossed the man two twenties and left the car before the guard had even reached the sliding glass doors. He approached the entrance cautiously, not because he feared the security guard, but due to his new and well-founded mistrust of sliding doors.
They opened and the guard gripped his arm. “Mr. Lancaster, are you okay, sir?”
He removed the blood soaked handkerchief from his face. “Do I look okay?”
The guard ignored his testiness and led him inside to a hard plastic chair. “Just wait here and I’ll have someone see right to you.” He hurried away.
Trent sighed in frustration. Why couldn’t he have employees like that? He suspected the guard would never challenge his boss.
A moment later, a white haired doctor in his early fifties hurried into the lobby, searched about until his gaze landed on Trent, then rushed to him.
Seeing Dr. Lenard, Trent stood and tried to shorten the distance. His quick rise caused his vision to dim and he tilted backwards. Before he went horizontal, a strong grip on his arm and back steadied him, as Lenard demanded a wheelchair.
Two minutes later, he sat on a bed in a private room while two pretty nurses undressed him. They reminded him of Carrie: efficient, hardworking, and caring.
His heart squeezed painfully in his chest. I told her to leave.
Angry with himself, he yelled at Lenard. “Since when does a broken nose require the patient to be stripped of their clothes and dignity?”
“Since you almost fainted,” the doctor replied. “Now lie back. I’m sending you for an MRI.”
“Crap.” He didn’t have time for this nonsense. He needed to find Carrie! “Let me call my driver and see if he’s found my EA.”
“That can wait.” Lenard tried to snatch his cell phone.
“This is important!” he snapped. “If you ever want me to give another dime to this hospital, you will allow me to make this call.”
Without a single eye roll or head shake, Lenard held up his hands in surrender.
Why couldn’t his employees back down like that?
But no, his employees ignored his every command. Even Carrie.
He dialed Sam and placed the phone to his ear. “Sam, have you found her?”
His heart sank. Like everyone else, Sam failed to do his job. However, he couldn’t fault the places Sam searched. Trent had told her to leave. Of course, she’d go home the way she always commuted: Penn station.
He was about to tell his driver to abandon the car and go inside when Sam told him he’d just parked the car and intended to search inside. Satisfied Sam would find her, he closed the phone and gave it to the nurse.
Without further delay, they rolled him down the hallway and moved him onto an open air MRI he’d personally selected and purchased for the hospital after taking a personal dislike to the old tunnel version. He’d felt as if he lay in a coffin for an eternity while demonic construction workers drilled from above.
An analysis he’d commissioned claimed this MRI the quietest and most comfortable one available, so Trent bought it for the hospital, just in case he ever had to go in one again.
At least one of his long-range plans had worked out.
He changed his mind the moment the MRI began its scan. The construction drilling still occurred. An hour later, he wondered why he’d bothered buying this piece of crap. He should have invested in some great earplugs instead.
The moment they returned him to his private room, he demanded and received his phone. He called only to discover Sam in a bar. His temper blew, causing his nose to bleed again. He hung up on his incompetent driver he couldn’t fire, now sick to death with worry that something had happened to Carrie. He tried to call her cell phone and her home phone, but she either ignored his call because hell hadn’t frozen over or never made it home. Someone could have abducted her on the way to the train, or the train could have crashed.
Lenard entered with a tall, arrogant guy wearing a crisp white lab jacket over his custom tailored suit. “Trent, this is Dr. Phillip Ranson. Best plastic surgeon in the country. He’s going to take care of your nose now. The MRI indicates you’re fine, by the way. However, your blood pressure is sky high. Have you been under any undue stress today?”
“Yes. In a moment of rage, I fired my EA, and now I cannot find her to tell her she misunderstood me.”
Lenard chuckled. “Well, let’s get your nose fixed so you remain handsome enough to convince the young lady the fault lies solely with her, misunderstanding you as she did.”
Trent sighed. He’d need to work on his explanation or else he’d sound like a bigger jerk than she already thought him.
Two hours later, he returned to his private room, groggy from painkillers, tormented by scenarios of Carrie abducted and sold into the slave trade. Demanding his cell phone, he called Sam, who answered with, “I found her.”
Alive, please let her be alive.
“She’s a bit drunk. What do you want me to do with her?”
“Drunk? She can’t drink. She tips over from one drink. Was anyone with her?”
“I noticed the tipping problem when she stood up to go to the bathroom. I asked a waitress to assist her. I’ll need to give the woman a bonus for work outside her job description.”
“Don’t worry about the cost, I’ll cover it. Just take Carrie to the penthouse. I’ll be home in a minute.”
Lenard shook his head. Trent spoke into the phone, “Hold on,” then glared at the doctor. “Why are you shaking your head?”
“I want to keep you here tonight for observation.”
“No.”
The doctor’s brow furrowed. “Trent, you need someone watching over you.”
“I have servants. I’m sure they’ll watch over me once I point out their jobs end if they let me die.”
“Do you have anyone who actually likes you?”
He smiled at the question. If he needed Carrie to stay for medical reasons, she would, no matter how angry he’d made her. “Yes, once I apologize better. Now I’ve met your condition. Sign me out. I’m going home.”
* * * *
Trent flagged a taxi. He could have called Sam to pick him up, but he hoped to get home first, so he could lie in bed, looking injured and in need of aid when he asked Carrie to stay.
When the cab pulled up outside his penthouse, he paid the man and stumbled out. The effort made him seriously light-headed. He closed his eyes to the bright street lamp. Then his balance went off. Maybe leaving the hospital hadn’t been a good idea after all.
Someone patted his body.
He couldn’t tell if they wanted to help or mug him—in New York, they might do both. “Don’t steal my wallet, just take the money,” he growled.
The little hands pulled away.
“Hold on! You have to help me get him inside,” a guy yelled.
Sam?
“He just called me a thief!”
Upon hearing Carrie’s angry response, he opened his eyes and squinted to reduce the pain the light caused.
“Carrie, I didn’t recognize you by your pat down. I thought someone realized I’m in less than a robust state and attempted to take my wallet.”
“Don’t talk anymore.” She leaned forward. “Should we take him to a hospital?”
He definitely didn’t want that. “No, I just got out.”
“They let you out like this? Without anyone to help you?”
“I had to sign a waiver saying you waited downstairs to take me home. Then I had to bribe the attendant who rolled me outside to put me in a cab.”
“We need to get him somewhere he can lie down.”
The concern in Carrie’s response gave him hope. She still cared for him.
Sam chuckled. “May I suggest his penthouse, since we are standing in front of it?”
“Oh! I forgot about your penthouse.”
Trent patted her head. “That’s okay. Sam remembered it.” Actually, he liked her lack of interest in his possessions. He found it a nice change from the prior women he’d dated, who always seemed to be weighing whether his many possessions justified the effort to tolerate his company. Sometimes, when their greed became a bit too obvious, he’d intentionally show his worst behavior just to see how much they loved his money. So far, they’d all had their breaking points.
While riding the elevator up to his penthouse, Trent managed to open his eyes. Carrie’s worried face stared up at him. He dearly wanted to apologize, but Sam accompanied them, and he couldn’t do it front of his driver.
Mars, his butler stood waiting when the elevator door opened. For a moment, the man’s eyes rounded in shock, but then the placid demeanor, mandatory in a butler, returned. He took over Carrie’s side. “Let’s put him to bed.”
“I’ll just wait out in the car,” Carrie said.
Both Sam and Trent replied in unison. “No!”
“The car’s locked,” Sam warned.
“And I promised the doctor you would look after me,” Trent added.
He expected her to remind him he’d fired here, but her brow wrinkled like a pug’s and she nodded twice, following them to his bedroom.
After they stripped him down to his boxers, put him in bed, and covered him with a sheet, Carrie sat on the edge of the bed and gripped his hand.
He waved off the butler and Sam. The butler left at once, but his driver resisted. “You gonna be okay?” he asked. At first, Trent thought his driver actually gave a damn about him, but then realized Sam focused on Carrie.
She turned and nodded.
“We’ll be right out here,” he added and left the room.
Trent wanted to yell at him to go back to Long Island, but he needed to repair what he’d broken first, and he didn’t mean his nose.
“I’m sorry.” His words echoed. He frowned. The MRI lied. Something remained broken, probably due to all the clanging.
Carrie’s green eyes met his. She looked so miserable. “I was completely in the wrong. I should never have undermined your authority. I didn’t mean to. I knew if I had the chance to explain my reasoning, you would’ve agreed. Only I had no time to discuss it with you.”
He had been ready to take the blame for this debacle just to get her back. She remained the best employee he’d ever had, even if he could never completely trust her again. How could he, now knowing she had no respect for him or his position? She’d purposely overridden his authority and humiliated him in front of an employee. For what? So some slacker could go to class while on the company clock. They were supposed to be a team against the slacker employees. But just like his father used to, she countermanded his orders in front of the employees, making him look like a fool. While he’d grown accustomed to daily betrayals from his father, he'd never expected it from Carrie…not in a million years. And for it to happen in a situation where he was clearly in the right…
Yet, her apology opened the possibility she hadn’t betrayed him. She claimed if he had known her reasoning, he would have agreed. If true, then only his temper had jumped in before he could come to her way of thinking.
He gripped her hand. “Tell me your rationale.”
She relived the moments before Armageddon accurately. Most people altered the past when trying to justify their actions, but Carrie’s view precisely matched his up until the point where she saw panic in the boy’s eyes. He’d seen it too, but assumed the boy feared his wrath. However, Carrie correctly recalled the kid panicked when the clock on his desk began to blink.
When she talked of professors not allowing latecomers to take the test, he knew from personal experience that happened. He'd never cared if he failed a test—having no desire to leave school and begin working for his father—he’d just dropped the class and take it again. But he could see how students attending school on a scholarship might view matters a bit differently. Of course, Carrie, who had gone to college on a scholarship, understood the boy’s fear at once, saw the situation needed rectified, and acted.
She met his gaze, her glassy eyes rimmed in red. “I had no right to override your authority. You’d already made your decision. I’m sorry you saw it as a betrayal. I’d hoped for time to explain…”
“But I didn’t give you the chance.”
She lowered her head and sniffled.
“If you had to do it over again, would you do something differently?”
She pulled her hand from his grip, breathed in and then out as if pain. “I know you want to hear I would, but the boy’s whole life could have been ruined if he missed his class. I’m sorry, even though I know I shouldn’t have overridden your decision, and it breaks my heart you’ve fired me, given the same situation, I would do the same.”
He retrieved her hand. “You know why?”
She sighed and closed her eyes as if in pain. “Because I’m an idiot?”
He stroked her cheek. “Never. Because you did the right thing.”
Her face transformed from misery to happy surprise in seconds. He ached to pull her into his arms and kiss her, but knew it was too soon. So he settled for squeezing her hand. “I would have agreed with your logic if I hadn’t gone Rambo on you. That’s the expression right?”
She laughed softly and smiled. “It’s a little dated, but it works.”
He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I’m sorry I went off without giving you the time to explain. If I’d understood the stakes, even though the kid really pissed me off, I would have let him go to his class.”
She nodded. Her eyes remained glassy, but she at least she smiled. “I know.”
He took a deep breath and prepared to share something he’d never told anyone. “In my father’s later years, when he spent his day’s training
me to take over, he would demand that I ‘take the reins’. Yet, every time I gave an employee an order, they’d go to him and complain. Then my father would call the employee and me into his office where he’d declare my idea beyond comprehension and predict the company would be bankrupt in two years under my imbecilic care.
While you didn’t declare me an imbecile, countermanding my authority before an employee said as much.” He covered his face with his hands and rubbed hard as he took in a deep breath then he met her gaze. “To be betrayed by you, the one person I trust, hurt me far more than my father ever could.”
Her face puckered up to cry again.
He stroked her cheek. “No crying. You didn’t betray me. I just overreacted. You’ve been on my side from the day I hired you.”
She calmed and a faint smile tugged at her lips.
“I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, because you would never betray me.”
“I wouldn’t,” she agreed.
“So this disaster lands at my feet. However, just to be clear, I never fired you. I only wanted you to go away until I could calm down. When I realized you misunderstood, I ran after you. Only when I tried to leave the building to tell you I hadn’t fired you, the door didn’t open and I broke my nose.”
She blinked. “You ran after me?”
“Yes, but you had already left.”
“Are you sure?”
“The elevator had come down, and my sorry ass employees pushed in like cattle.”
“Yeah. They came crushing in before I could get out. I ended up riding back to the fifth floor. You must have already gone to the hospital when I finally escaped the elevator. When I reached the lobby, the sliding doors didn’t work properly, and one door had a big smear of blood on it.”
She gripped his hand.“I’ll call the people who installed it and have them check it out. We have a twenty-year warranty on those doors.” She paused. “I’m not fired, right?”
He captured her right hand. “I will never fire you. But honestly, right now I’m thinking we should just abandon this company and start a new one.”
Her eyes rounded as she adamantly shook her head. “Not after all the work I did in Taiwan! We will stick to our plan. Come tomorrow, Dan Marshal had better get us our HR person.”
Worst Week Ever (A Long Road to Love) Page 14
