Worst Week Ever (A Long Road to Love)

by Liza O'Connor

  He closed his eyes and sighed with contentment. The wound had healed and his heart felt stronger than ever.

  Just as he was about to fall asleep, she tried to leave, which woke him up. “Where are you going?”

  “I need to go home. It’s late. Any chance Sam can drive me?”

  “No, you have to stay here. The doctor only released me from the hospital on the condition I could find a friend to watch over me.”

  “Can’t your servants take care of you?”

  “I mentioned the servants, but he felt their motivation to keep me alive insufficient.”

  “What was their motivation?”

  “If I die they lose their jobs.”

  His words made her grimace in pain. She removed her shoes and her jacket. “You’re a bit hard to like at first, but that’s your father’s fault. I don’t understand why the people who’ve known you for years can’t see what a great guy resides beneath the prickly exterior.”

  “Well, they've managed not to. So will you stay?” He extended his hand to her.

  She took it and squeezed. “Yes, but I should warn you, I’m exhausted, so if you wake and find me sound asleep in your chair, it’s not because I don’t care about your well-being.”

  He didn’t want her in a chair; he wanted her in his bed. He’d been through hell today and needed Carrie at his side. She was the only one who soothed him. “If you lie next to me, you can sleep all you want, because you’ll wake if my breathing falters or I groan in pain. In fact, if you sleep with your head on my chest, you can monitor my heart rate.”

  “I better sit in the chair.” She tried to leave his bedside, but he held firm to her hand.

  “Carrie, you don’t have to do that. For one, I’m in no condition to do anything.”

  “If would still be unprofessional of me.”

  He released a long breath as his gaze met hers. “Carrie, you’re more than just my EA. You’re my favorite person in the whole world.”

  She smiled. “And you’re my best friend.”

  Her words lightened his spirits. Trent had long ago come to terms with the fact that even people he considered his friends secretly held him in contempt. His flaws made him unlikeable. Yet now Carrie not only declared him her friend, but her best friend.

  “Well, that settles it. I would like my best friend to have a good night’s sleep. So I offer you the other half of this very large bed.”

  She chewed her bottom lip. “Did the doctor really say you needed watched?”

  “I swear he did, and he refused my servants when I offered them up as my caretaker.”

  As if fate wished to prove his point, the bedroom door opened and Dr. Lenard, carrying his doctor’s bag, entered. He smiled at Carrie. “Are you the accidentally-fired EA?”

  “He never fired me. I just misunderstood.”

  The doctor huffed and smiled at Trent. “And you accomplished this feat with your face bandaged. Amazing.”

  Carrie left the bed so the doctor could take Trent’s blood pressure.

  “Did someone call you?” Trent asked.

  “No. I sent myself after I learned you climbed into a cab by yourself.”

  “I would have been there, had I known of his injury,” Carrie assured the doctor.

  Trent smiled at her. No other woman in the world understood him half as well as she did.

  “Your blood pressure has gone down. Any further dizziness?”

  “No.”

  She glared at him from behind the doctor.

  He couldn’t have his new best friend thinking him less than forthcoming. “Well, when I jumped out of the cab, I weaved a bit.”

  She pointed to her eyes.

  “And the light hurt my eyes.”

  “Anything else.”

  She patted her chest with her hands.

  While he saw no need in sharing this matter, if Carrie believed it important, then he’d do it. “I thought Carrie was a pickpocket, so I asked her to take my money but leave me my wallet.”

  Lenard frowned.

  “What? I like my wallet. I’d never find a replacement.”

  He shook his head and turned to Carrie. Anything else I should know?”

  “No, he told you everything.”

  “Yes, surprisingly forthcoming. Given his responses, I believe he might have incurred a minor concussion today. Call me in the morning if he wakes up disoriented or his balance remains off?”

  Carrie shook his hand. “I’m glad you came over to check on him.”

  “And I’m glad to have met you.” He turned to Trent. “You need rest tonight. Understand?”

  “I’m just his employee and friend. We’re not dating or anything,” Carrie clarified.

  The doctor arched an eyebrow at Trent before focusing on Carrie. “Take good care of my friend. I’d hate to lose him.”

  Chapter 12

  Upon closing the door after Dr. Lenard left, Carrie turned to Trent. “See, you have friends.”

  Trent shook his head. “Lenard? He’s not a friend. He’s just keeping a major contributor to his hospital alive.”

  A guttural noise came from her chest, and she stared up at the ceiling.

  “Don’t growl at me for telling the truth,” Trent barked. “I’ve only one friend in this world and that’s you.”

  She turned and grinned. “I didn’t growl, I groaned.”

  “And why are you groaning?”

  “Because I’ve no clothes to wear tomorrow and both my cards are completely maxed out. I desperately need to go home, open my mail, pay my bills, and set my life straight.”

  Damn it, he wanted her to stay. He needed her serenity. A heavy sigh escaped him. But she needed to go home. “Call Sam. I’ll have him drive you home.”

  Her brow furrowed. “But who’ll watch over you?”

  He shrugged as if it were no big deal. “I don’t need to be watched. I’m pretty good at getting by on my own.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed. “If Sam drove out to my house, he’d have to drive back anyway, right?”

  “Oh, yeah.” No way would he allow his driver to spend the night with her again.

  “Then…” Her fingers wrestled one another as she struggled to form her words, which meant she needed to ask for something that benefited her.

  “Just ask,” he growled. “I need sleep.”

  A heavy sigh signaled her capitulation. “Instead of driving me home, could Sam drive out to my house and get my clothes and stuff so I can stay and watch over you without having my credit ruined and house repossessed in the process?”

  He chuckled at her fabulous request. “Talk about a case of no good deed goes unpunished. Well, we can’t have that happen. Call Sam in and start making a list of what you want him to bring back. Plan to stay two weeks.”

  Her eyes rounded in shock. “Two weeks? The doctor didn’t say anything about watching you for two weeks.”

  “I’m supposed to stay in bed until I feel fully recovered. All head injuries are different, so I may be bedridden for days or weeks. Thus, good strategic planning says we should plan for the worst, while hoping for the best.

  Since that was one of Carrie’s mantras, she could hardly argue the matter further.

  * * * *

  Carrie could tell by Sam’s rigid jaw line that he didn’t like his assignment, so she followed him into the hall. “I’m sorry this has fallen on you. I’m really worried about Trent, but I’m also worried about leaving my bills unpaid.”

  He rubbed her shoulder. “I’m not mad about helping you out.”

  “You’re mad about something,” she muttered.

  “Yep, but it’s not you.” An impish grin formed. “I will enjoy foraging about your house, learning all your intimate secrets.”

  Her face burned with embarrassment as she realized he might find her selection of sex toys in the shelves behind her bed. “Don’t snoop beyond the parameters necessary to find the listed items, especially in my bedroom.”

  Sam’s ey
ebrows rose, clearly sensing she had something interesting hidden there. She groaned at her stupidity. Now, he knew exactly which room to search!

  Resigned to his finding her sex toys, she decided to explain while she had the chance. “Since I came to work for Trent, I’ve had no social life, but my body still needs…” How could she say this without actually saying it?

  He learned close and whispered in her ear. “Release?”

  Good word, but the way he said it still made it sound dirty. “Exactly.” Given the scorching heat radiating from her cheeks, they had to be beet red.

  He rubbed his chin, covering his mouth, for a moment. “So…would you like me to retrieve one of these items…because I doubt Trent’s going to be up to ….”

  “God, no! I’m his employee.”

  Sam smiled. Clearly, he appreciated the boundaries between employer and employee. Otherwise, he wouldn’t call Trent ‘master’ all the time.

  “Unless you’d prefer….”

  Her eyes rounded in horror. Oh God, he was going to offer to find her some guy off the street. “No, I’m fine.”

  He pulled back as if she’d hurt his feelings. She grabbed his hand, worried he perhaps had intended to sacrifice himself and now felt belittled. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t rush into relationships. It takes me awhile to become comfortable enough to be intimate with a guy, which I don’t have time for right now.”

  While her face burned with a new level of embarrassment, thankfully, Sam showed no anger from the unintentional insult she’d lobbed.

  His smile returned as he chucked her under the chin. “I’ll bring you one back.”

  “Not necessary.”

  He laughed outright this time. “Leave it to me.” He hurried from the penthouse with her keys in his hand. Only after he left, did she feel a decided glare to her right. She turned, worried Trent had left his bed, despite the doctor’s orders. The stern butler watched her with disapproving eyes. Did he think her incredibly selfish, making Sam go out in the middle of the night to collect her clothes? Oh, God. What if he heard them discussing her vibrator? Horrified at the possibility, she made a hasty escape. “Night,” she said and hurried to Trent’s room.

  She thought her boss had fallen asleep, but his eyes opened the moment she closed the door. “Everything okay?”

  Nodding, she sat on the edge of the bed. God, she could barely keep her eyes open.

  He patted the empty space beside him. “Come to bed then.”

  “I can’t until Sam returns with my pajamas.”

  “He won’t be back for three or four hours.”

  She groaned and covered her face with her hands. “I know.”

  “Grab one of my t-shirts from the second drawer. It’ll probably fall to your knees.”

  What a fabulous solution! She pushed herself from the bed and located a t-shirt longer than her gown. “Where’s the bathroom?”

  He pointed to a door she had mistaken for a closet. Of course, he’d have a private bathroom. She entered and stared at the bathroom of her dreams.

  It had the most gorgeous marble grain and the biggest Jacuzzi she’d ever seen. Unless it was a small swimming pool. Her body ached to try it out. She peeked out the door, intending to ask permission to take a bath, but Trent looked to be asleep. Certain he would’ve said yes if he’d been awake, she closed the door and locked it.

  Naked, she stared at herself in the giant mirror, covering the entire left wall. Noticing the shadow of her ribs, she shook her head in disgust. Had she even eaten today? If she had, she couldn’t remember when.

  Her stomach growled to let her know it couldn’t either.

  Deciding a fast shower and something to eat would be better than a bath tonight, she stepped into the large shower stall and turned the knob. Water came from every angle and wall. It reminded her of a hurricane she’d once survived.

  After drying herself with the largest, softest towel imaginable, she selected the shortest of Trent’s many robes. By bunching it up at the waist, she managed to raise it enough she wouldn’t trip. She hurried to Trent’s side and spoke softly.

  “I just realized neither of us has eaten today. I’m going to forage about your refrigerator— if I can find it. I’ll bring enough for you too.”

  He grumbled beneath his breath, but she couldn’t make sense of it and let him sleep.

  Her first quest was to find the kitchen. Beginning in the living room, she started at the right of Trent’s door, planning to check every door. When she opened the third door, the butler stood on the other side, causing her to jump back as a yelp of shock escaped her lungs.

  “May I help you?” His stern gaze took in her robe and frowned. Evidently, he thought wearing the ‘master’s’ robe a criminal offense. He might even suspect her of searching for things to steal.

  “I’m looking for the refrigerator.” She hoped that sufficient to prove her innocence of whatever crime he imagined she planned.

  Now his brow furrowed as well. “Why?”

  God, he made her feel guilty and she hadn’t even done anything. “I just realized neither Trent nor I have eaten today, which might account for his unsteadiness. He could be starving.”

  The butler’s disapproving glare almost turned to concern. She wished Trent could have seen that glimpse of emotion. Then he’d realize his staff really did care about him.

  When the man headed toward another door, she follow him. A second later, he stopped and faced her. “Please return to Master Trent’s room. I will bring the food.”

  “I don’t want to keep you up. If you’ll just point me in the right direction, I’m sure I can find something to eat.”

  His eyes widened as if her offer most outrageous. However, when he spoke, his voice remained calm. “Will beef barley soup and fresh whole wheat bread suffice?”

  She smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”

  “I will bring it to you in five minutes.”

  “You sure I can’t do it myself?”

  He breathed in deeply, as if readying himself for battle. “Rest assured, I will manage the task on my own.”

  Realizing she’d pissed the butler off, Carrie grimaced and hurried back to Trent.

  She went to her side of the bed, but stopped before she climbed in. If she crawled on the bed, she’d wake him up and he looked so peaceful. However, to eat the soup, he needed wake up, so it made no difference. She climbed onto the extremely large bed and crossed over to him.

  His eyes opened and he frowned. “Where’d you go?” he asked with a hint of petulance in his voice.

  “To find food. I realized neither of us has eaten today. You could be starving to death instead of suffering from a concussion.

  His lids fluttered and closed. “Tell Mars. He’ll see we’re fed.”

  Or perhaps he does have a concussion. “Isn’t Mars your other butler?”

  “I gave them both the same name so I don’t have to remember two names. It was too confusing.”

  “And they agreed to this?”

  “They work for me, don’t they?”

  She couldn’t believe Trent would ask his employees to give up their names just because he couldn’t make the effort to remember them. If knowing their names was too much trouble, then he should go without a butler.

  A few minutes later, the door opened and a man who may or may not have been born with the name Mars entered, carrying a tray with two giant soup bowls, a huge loaf of bread, two ice cream sundaes and hot cocoa with melted marshmallows floating on the top.

  Trent sat up. “God, that smells delicious. Mars, you are a life saver.”

  Carrie nodded in agreement. She wouldn’t have done half so well—assuming she ever actually found the refrigerator.

  Still, she wished she knew if the man she profusely wanted to thank called himself Mars. How sincere can your appreciation be if you call the person by the wrong name?

  While Carrie helped fluff and place the pillows behind Trent’s back, Mars settled an extremely
large and finely carved ebony wood tray over his lap. “Do you require anything else, sir?”

  “A few more pillows would be nice,” Trent said.

  Carrie shifted to the side of the tray and acquired a spoon. She eyed the six pillows piled behind Trent. Where on earth did he plan to put more pillows?

  Mars went to a closet and retrieved two more. “Where exactly would you like these, sir?”

  Trent rolled his eyes. “Where do you think? How many pillows do I have?”

  His face showed no emotion. “Six, I believe.”

  “And how many does Carrie have?”

  Mars walked to the other side and leaned across the super-sized bed, placing them behind Carrie.

  Carrie twisted to face Mars. “You didn’t need to get me pillows—”

  “Yes, he did,” Trent said as he dived into his bowl of soup.

  “But thank you,” she added.

  “My pleasure, Miss Carrie. Enjoy your meal.”

  Mindful she had ice cream, she only ate a third of her soup.

  Trent frowned when she set aside her bowl. “You don’t like it?”

  “I do, but I can’t eat as much as you.”

  He tugged at the massive robe she wore. “I don’t know. You look to have put on a hundred pounds since an hour ago.

  His robe did swamp her. “I took a shower.”

  His fingers tangled in her wet hair. “I deduced as much on my own.” He reached for her bowl of soup. “You’ll find a blow-dryer in the cabinet by the bathroom vanity.”

  She snorted and pulled her dessert closer to her. “You’re just hoping I’ll leave my ice-cream unprotected.”

  “No, I just don’t want to have a cold wet chest all night.”

  “I’m not sleeping with my head on your chest.” After eating five small spoonfuls of ice cream, she crawled off the bed and went to find the blow dryer.

  She rolled her eyes as she discovered a cabinet built solely to house a blow dryer that turned itself on when she lifted it from its holster.

  In less than three minutes, it had done its job, but the appliance continued to roar with life, evidently wishing to dry something else. She searched its handle for an off switch, but if it had one, she couldn’t find it.