“Well, I didn’t quite say you should do that…”
“No, no, I know,” she clarified. “I’m just saying that I have to at least try. Maybe this wasn’t the job for me, but I should at least get the opportunity to sit down with them and start the position with them knowing I’m taking it seriously, right?”
“I suppose.” Honestly, if he were the one she was supposed to meet with and she hadn’t shown, he wouldn’t have given her a second chance. That’s not the way it went in the corporate world, but he wasn’t going to say that to her and risk making her feel worse than she already did about her circumstances.
“Anyway, I should go.” Taking the board from him, she smiled again. “Thanks for carrying it, and thanks again for trying to help.”
“I’m glad you didn’t need it,” he said, almost bashfully.
They stood facing one another until it got a little awkward.
“Well… Good night, Christian. I hope to see you around.”
He gave a small wave as she turned to walk away.
And yeah, he hoped he’d see her around soon too.
And not just from the privacy of his deck.
* * *
The next day, Christian was having his own crappy day.
For starters, he didn’t feel well. Everything was…off. He was a little warm, a little jittery, more than a little tired, and his concentration was shit. Maybe he was coming down with something. No matter how long he looked at the reports in front of him, nothing was making sense. In an hour, he was supposed to meet with a new client he’d been courting for months and he needed to get himself together.
“Focus, dammit,” he muttered, taking a long drink of his coffee. Probably not the best option considering he was already jittery, but he hoped it would wake him up a little too.
After he’d watched Sophie walk away, he’d gone home and found that he was at a loss for something to do. With his mother and aunt gone, there almost wasn’t a need for him to be home. Going back to the office seemed a bit ridiculous, so he’d forced himself to make a real meal for dinner instead of opting for takeout, and then he’d sat and watched TV until well after midnight.
Then sleep had eluded him.
He’d tossed and turned and done more than his share of cursing, but nothing had seemed to make his brain shut down enough for him to relax and go to sleep. He was edgy and uncomfortable—and no matter how great his Sleep Number bed usually was, last night there was no perfect setting to help him.
Sometime after two, he’d risen and—feeling more than a little desperate for sleep—made himself a cup of chamomile tea. It wasn’t something he normally drank, but he always kept some in the house for his mother’s visits because she enjoyed it. More than once she’d mentioned how it always helped her sleep, so he figured he’d try it.
Didn’t work.
By three, he’d gone out on the deck, sat on one of the chaises, closed his eyes, and listened to the sound of the waves.
That worked until he realized there was no way he could sleep out on the deck. So, half-delirious from exhaustion, he’d opened the French doors that led to the far end of the deck. Part of him was a little ill at ease about sleeping with the doors open, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and as he crawled into bed at three thirty with the sound of the waves lulling him, all thoughts of security were forgotten.
Unfortunately, his alarm had gone off at six thirty and three hours of sleep were not enough to get him through this day. If he could get through the meeting with the Davenports, he could go home after that. No doubt he’d be able to sleep tonight without any trouble. Looking at his watch, he saw it was already eleven and his meeting was at one.
“Christian?” his assistant Erin called from the doorway.
Looking up, Christian scowled. “What is it, Erin?”
“Patricia from HR is here and she’d like to speak with you.”
With a shake of his head, he responded, “I don’t have time right now. Tell her we’ll have to talk later this afternoon.”
He wasn’t about to admit that he was already planning on leaving as soon as his meeting was over. No one needed to know that. And basically, there were very few things that he needed to handle directly with his HR department, so no doubt if it was really all that important, she could reach out to someone else.
Figuring that was that, he was surprised when he looked up and saw Erin still standing in the same spot. “Problem?”
She took one hesitant step into the room, and that was his first clue that something was up. Erin had been working with him for over two years now and she was an extremely confident person who knew when he didn’t want to be bothered. To see her looking less than such had him more than a little curious.
When she was in front of his desk, she said, “It seems that there’s a problem with the program your mother and aunt were here about and Patricia can’t get either of them on the phone. She’s a little anxious about it and I think it would be best to talk to her now rather than later.”
Bloody hell.
“Erin,” he began evenly, “I am a little swamped here going over the file for the Davenports. Surely I’m not the only person who can talk to her about this. Can’t she reach out to someone at my father’s office who’s in charge?”
“I thought of that too, but it seems like the issue is…unique to, well, here.”
Okay, now he was curious. Tossing the file aside, he let out a loud groan of frustration. “Tell her to make it quick.”
Smiling at him, Erin said, “I will. Thanks.”
As she walked out of the office, Christian raked a hand through his hair, his chest tightening. The last thing he needed was another distraction this morning. Why didn’t people understand he had a job to do and that it wasn’t possible for him to put out everyone else’s fires? Although, if he were honest, he wasn’t getting a whole lot done on the Davenport file anyway. Maybe this little meeting with Patricia would be enough to break him out of whatever was bothering him and get his head focused like it needed to be.
“Thank you so much for meeting with me, Mr. Montgomery,” Patricia said as she walked into the room. She was an older woman—in her sixties—with a sleek blond bob, dressed in a classic Chanel-style suit. Christian often noticed how she was a throwback to another time—a time when employees put a little extra effort into how they dressed for work. He appreciated her effort, admired it. And normally she was the first with a smile, but right now she looked more than a little uncomfortable.
Motioning for her to have a seat, he relaxed in his chair. “What can I do for you, Patricia?”
Sitting primly in her chair, she folded her hands in her lap before she started to speak. “As you know, your mother and aunt entrusted me with their new corporate health program.”
He nodded as she went on to describe all of the work they’d accomplished this week. Holding up a hand to stop her, he asked, “I thought everything was in place? My mother mentioned that you had hired someone.”
“Oh, we did,” she said. “The agency they’re using assigned a nurse to us and she was supposed to meet with your mother and aunt and…” She paused for a moment. “Well, she’s here today for an orientation.”
“Patricia, I don’t see what—”
“Christian?” Erin’s voice came across the intercom.
Holding up a hand to Patricia, he picked up the phone. “Yes, Erin?”
“The Davenport people are here,” she said quietly.
“What?” he cried, panic gripping him by the throat. Jumping up from his chair, it suddenly felt as if he couldn’t breathe. “They’re two hours early, Erin! Did you remind them of their appointment time?”
“I—I did, sir. But they are insisting they see you earlier. It seems they met with Brannigans this morning and now they’re anxious to talk to you.”
“Brannigans? They met with Brannigans?” The tightening in his chest grew to almost painful proportions.
“Mr. Montgomery,” Patricia said, concern lacing her tone. “Are you all right?”
Brannigans was an investment firm like Montgomerys. They were their direct competition and Christian was more than a little concerned that not only had the Davenports openly admitted they’d gone to them, but that they’d come here to comparison shop!
Wiping sweat from his brow, he ignored Patricia’s question and said to Erin, “Set them up in the conference room and tell them I’ll be in shortly.”
“Are you sure?”
“Offer them coffee, beverages, whatever we can to tide them over while I get everything together,” he went on even as she tried to reason with him. “We can do this, but I’m not going to jump through their hoops and run in there.”
Christian heard her small sigh. “Yes, sir.”
Hanging up the phone, he turned to Patricia. “This will have to wait,” he said, but he was breathless and his head was spinning. Reaching for the desk to steady himself, he took a moment to try to catch his breath. Doing his best to focus, he looked at Patricia and noticed the stricken look on her face right before she ran from the room.
At least…he thought she ran. Everything was starting to look a bit wonky, tilted. Christian did his best to focus on his office door, but it seemed to be getting further and further away. Slowly, he made his way around the desk and the pain in his chest got sharper. Gasping painfully, he almost dropped to his knees.
This is it, he thought. This job has officially killed me. Why didn’t I listen to everyone who’d been warning me to take it easy? Why didn’t I quit when I wanted to? Way back when I left London?
Off in the distance, he could hear voices, but they were muffled. A million thoughts raced through his head—why hadn’t he taken that vacation to Hawaii last year? Why were his only trips for either business or family events? And lastly, why hadn’t he asked Sophie out last night?
The pain in his chest subsided, but everything else was still off. Blinking several times, he saw people entering his office. It took a couple of tries to focus, but then he saw Erin and Patricia—both of them encouraged him to sit. Nodding, he agreed and let them lead him over to the leather sofa against his far wall. Erin immediately loosened his tie and even though his first instinct was to swat her hand away, he simply didn’t have the energy to do so.
He was tired.
So, so tired.
“Miss Bennington! In here!” Patricia called out.
He had no idea who that was and right now, he didn’t care.
Resting his head against the sofa cushions, Christian closed his eyes and tried to take a deep breath but found that he couldn’t.
“I’ve called 911,” someone said. He didn’t recognize the voice, but then again, everyone still sounded muffled.
All around him, he could feel people moving around, but he was just too tired to open his eyes and see what all the fuss was about. Maybe if he could lie down for a little while, he’d feel better.
The touch of someone’s hand on his temple startled him, but still he didn’t open his eyes. The hand felt cool against his skin, and it went from his temple to the pulse at his neck and then finally to his wrist.
“Does anyone have an aspirin?” that same voice asked and now he was getting curious as to who it belonged to. Just as he was about to ask, he felt a little pressure on his bottom lip as he was instructed to “chew this.” He assumed it was the aspirin and simply complied.
“Paramedics will be here in five,” Erin called out.
Okay, he was starting to recognize voices again and—strangely enough—the pressure in his chest was easing. He took one breath, then another, and found it a lot easier than it had been moments ago. It took a bit of an effort, but he wanted to sit up a little straighter. As soon as he moved, however, there was a hand on his shoulder encouraging him to sit still.
Now he opened his eyes, and the first thing Christian noticed was the crowd of concerned faces—besides Erin and Patricia, there were several of his junior executives staring at him. Frowning because he hated being the center of attention like this, he was about to speak when he was encouraged to relax.
That voice.
He knew that voice.
Turning his head, his gaze locked on a pair of serious and concerned green eyes.
Sophie.
What? How? Why? So many questions and no one would let him speak.
“Your heart rate is going up again,” Sophie said softly, keeping her fingers on his wrist. “It’s vital for you to relax, Christian. The paramedics are on their way.”
“I don’t need the paramedics,” he finally said. “I’m fine now.”
The look she gave him showed that she didn’t believe him even the littlest bit. “You’re pale and your skin is clammy. Your pulse is jumpy and you almost passed out.”
Um…yeah. He didn’t need the laundry list, he’d lived it.
“I’m fine,” he repeated, feeling a little of his strength return. Looking over at Erin, he said, “Cancel the paramedics.”
She turned her head as if she hadn’t heard him.
Traitor.
Since his loyal assistant wasn’t feeling particularly like listening to him, he faced Sophie. “Look, you’re right. I had a bad moment there. I didn’t sleep well last night and I guess it caught up with me. As a medical professional, you know paramedics don’t appreciate being called to a scene when there’s nothing wrong, so really, just…cancel them. Tell them I’m fine. And since you’re a nurse, they’ll believe you!”
If he thought his reasoning would win her over, he was sadly mistaken.
Christian heard the flutter of activity coming closer to the office and knew that everyone who worked for him was going to watch him getting wheeled out on a stretcher, and that was unacceptable. Sophie went to stand, but he frantically grasped her hand and pulled her in close.
“I do not want to leave here on a stretcher,” he ground out.
With a simple nod, she stood and walked over to greet the paramedics, and then—in a move that surprised him—she addressed everyone else in the room.
“We need to make room for the paramedics to come in!” she called out. “So unless you are a medical professional, you need to leave the office. I’m sure that”—she looked over at Erin and asked her name before continuing—“I’m sure Erin will update all of you as soon as we have more information. Thank you for understanding!”
As the paramedics moved toward him, everyone else quickly filed out of the room.
Before he knew it, they were checking his vitals and talking to him, and it was a little overwhelming. Sophie gave them the rundown of what she’d observed as well as the vitals she had taken before they arrived. He wanted to be annoyed at her high-handedness, but honestly, right now he was grateful not to have to think so much.
“Mr. Montgomery, we’re going to need to take you in for a cardiac evaluation,” one of the paramedics stated, and Christian immediately looked to Sophie for help.
She cleared her throat and said, “Um, is there any way we can let Mr. Montgomery walk out of the building?”
“Seriously?” the second paramedic asked. “He may have had a heart attack. We need to get him in the bus as soon as possible and get him to the ER.” Then he looked at Christian. “Sorry, Bud. We need to do this now.”
They helped him to his feet and onto the stretcher, but at least he wasn’t fully reclined. They gave him oxygen and secured him, and once again, his eyes went to Sophie’s.
“I’ll be right behind you,” she said, taking his hand and walking alongside him out to the ambulance.
* * *
It was a good thing she was trained to work well under pressure, because when Sophie had walked into Christian’s office an
d seen the condition he was in, she almost cried. Why? She honestly couldn’t say. Maybe it was because he had been so nice to her the night before or maybe she was reacting to witnessing someone she knew in true distress.
Okay, so…technically, she didn’t really know Christian. He was simply an acquaintance.
A really nice acquaintance.
But still, she was a nurse and dealing with someone in the midst of a medical crisis should have her ready to leap into action. Back home when she’d worked for Doc Kelly, the most they ever saw was the flu or the occasional broken bone. And during her clinicals, she’d been able to detach herself. But seeing Christian looking so helpless had affected her in a way she’d never experienced before.
At the hospital, she wasn’t allowed to go to the examination with him, but within minutes she had been brought to him because he kept asking for her.
And while that should have been weird—they’d only met the night before—it wasn’t. If anything, she wanted to be there for him.
As soon as Sophie stepped into the room, she was at his side and he’d taken her hand in his—and she liked that he was a toucher. She sat with him as he was given a complete cardiac workup, and with each test they performed, she explained it and answered any questions he had.
“Is there anyone you want me to call? Your parents? Siblings? The office? Your girlfriend?” she asked, her eyes not meeting his.
Sure, she was totally fishing on that last one, but she couldn’t help but be curious.
After walking away from Christian yesterday, she had called herself every kind of idiot for not asking him if he wanted to have coffee or something. At the time, she was in her wetsuit and it wasn’t as if she could have gone anyplace right then and there, but they could have made plans for later on. It was exactly the thing Sophie’d been telling herself she needed to do more of, yet when a sexy guy—who was clearly a good guy too—essentially landed at her feet, she wished him a good night and walked away?
All night and all morning she’d been hoping to run into him again.
She just hadn’t thought it would be while he was having a heart attack.
One More Moment Page 33
