by Elle Spencer
“Good god, this is going to cost you.”
“Good thing I’m rich.” Quinn closed her eyes and sighed as she relieved herself. “Whatever you want. It’s yours.”
Once Quinn was out of the bathroom, Lacey opened her large purse and pulled a few items out. “I tried to find something with big arm holes. She held up a ribbed tank top. Quinn nodded her approval. Lacey handed it to the nurse and turned away, giving them some privacy. Once Quinn was dressed, she turned back around and pulled a baseball cap out of her purse. It was a Yankees hat she’d had since she was in high school. “I couldn’t find a hat anywhere, but I thought you might want one since your hair is kind of…destroyed.”
Quinn ran her hand over her blonde hair, trying to smooth it down, but it was no use. Only a shower and some good conditioner would take care of those knots. “Yeah, I guess I’ll need it.”
“Don’t lose it. It’s my lucky hat.” Lacey handed it to her and folded her arms, waiting for Quinn to put it on.
Quinn looked at the worn-out hat and grimaced. “Maybe I’ll get it dry cleaned before I give it back to you.”
Jack burst into the room. “Hello, ladies. He looked Lacey up and down and said, “Wow. A little effort goes a long way.”
Lacey resisted the urge to flip him off.
He looked at Quinn, who was now sporting an old Yankees cap and a cast that went from her hand to her upper arm. “Maybe we should’ve had the stylist swing by the hospital room.”
Quinn actually did flip him off. “Shut up, Jack.” She looked up at Lacey with pleading eyes. “Can we do this please?”
“Which part,” Lacey asked. “The fake girlfriend, or…”
Quinn grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Can you please take me home?”
“Yes,” Lacey said with a nod. She wanted to make another joke about how much it would cost, but seeing the pleading look in Quinn’s eyes stopped her. “Let’s do this.”
The sliding glass doors opened and cameras started flashing. They were all yelling for Quinn to look their way. Someone shouted, “Who’s your friend, Quinn?” She kept her head down, letting the brim of the baseball cap cover her eyes as she gave them a little wave and thumbs up.
Lacey looked shell-shocked at first, the cameras flashing in her eyes. Jack touched her arm, getting her attention. “You’re blocked in. Let’s get her in my car.”
Even though Lacey had spent her life in the business, she’d never experienced any kind of paparazzi before. She quickly recovered and pushed the wheelchair to Jack’s black Escalade and helped Quinn into the back seat. She buckled Quinn’s seat belt and patted her hand. “I’ll see you at home, okay?”
Quinn winced in pain as she tried to find a comfortable position for her arm. Lacey reached across her and put the middle armrest down. “Maybe this will help.”
“Thank you.” Quinn’s faced contorted in pain as she moved her arm onto the rest. “God, it hurts,” she whispered.
“Do you have your pain meds?”
Quinn winced again. “The scrip is in my pocket.”
“Are you going to tell me which one or do I need to…” Lacey ran her hand up Quinn’s jean-clad leg to her front pocket.
“Back pocket.”
Their eyes met for a second and Lacey quickly removed her hand. “Right.” She reached behind her and pulled out the prescription. “Got it.”
“I’d make a joke about you enjoying that a little too much but I don’t have the energy.”
Lacey smirked. “Yeah, you’re so damn sexy right now, with your greasy hair and…what is that smell?”
“Okay, ladies.” Jack motioned with his head at the cameras.
Quinn reached for Lacey’s arm. “See you at home?”
Quinn looked frightened. And honestly, she should be, considering she was going home to an empty house, with no one there to take care of her except Lacey. It was crazy. But Lacey had agreed to it, and she’d hold up her end of the deal. “Yeah. See you at home.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jack stepped out the front door as Lacey pulled into the driveway. She got out of the car with the filled prescription in hand. “Sorry. The pharmacy was busy.”
“She’s on the sofa.” Jack looked back at the house and paused for a moment, a look of concern evident in his eyes.
“What’s wrong, Jack? Is she okay?” Lacey started to panic a little bit. “You can’t leave me here alone with her if she’s not okay. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Calm down. She’ll be fine,” Jack assured her. “Quinn is a very private person. The only reason I’m here is because I’m one of the few people she really trusts in this world. And apparently, now she trusts you too.”
Lacey slowly shook her head. “I have no idea why.”
“Neither do I, quite frankly. She hardly knows you. And a signed non-disclosure hardly makes you qualified to take care of her.”
“That’s what I tried to tell her! Will you try to talk some sense into her?”
“It’s not my decision.” Jack pulled his keys out of his pocket and nervously shook them in his hand. “Look, if you need anything, call me first. I’ll have groceries delivered tomorrow and I’ll check in every so often, but I really think she wants to recover in private. No visitors. And don’t take any photos of her face, even if it’s just for fun. We don’t need someone hacking your phone and selling them to the highest bidder.”
“Got it. But what if family shows up?” Surely Quinn had family who would want to be involved in her recovery, or at least stop by to check on her well-being. Lacey didn’t feel comfortable turning family away.
“She’s an only child,” Jack said. “Her parents are divorced. She’s not very close to her dad. We’ve given them the heads up, but she’s putting her mother off, hoping she’ll stay away.” He opened his car door. “I’ll call later tonight and see how it’s going.”
Lacey waited until the gate closed behind Jack’s car and then went into the house. She found Quinn resting on the sofa. She sat on the coffee table and inspected Quinn closely, taking in her coloring and her chest rising and falling. She seemed to be resting well at the moment. Just when she was about to stand up, Quinn opened her eyes. “Do you need anything?” Lacey asked. “A glass of water? A blanket? Turn back time?”
Quinn didn’t know where to start. She needed food so she could take more meds. She needed a bath. She needed to wash her hair. She needed to cry. “I stink,” she whispered.
“Yeah, you do. I can smell you from here.” Lacey jokingly put her finger under her nose.
“Will you help me?” Quinn’s voice sounded weaker than it had in the hospital. She’d tried to be brave and act stronger than she really was, just so she could get out of there and come home. She was so happy to be home, but she had no strength to do anything except breathe, and even that hurt.
“Hmm…” Lacey said, considering the options. “What if I taped a trash bag to your arm and helped you shower?”
Quinn nodded, tears forming in her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she was up to it, but she desperately wanted to be clean again. The nurses had done their best, but she still had dirt under her fingernails from the fall and she felt sticky all over. Not to mention her matted, greasy hair. “Let’s give it a try.”
***
The shower worked out okay. Quinn quickly had to accept the fact that Lacey would see her naked. There was no getting around it. Truth be told, with all of the bumps and bruises, it probably wasn’t much of a show anyway. She tried to keep her back to Lacey as much as possible, letting her wash her hair and soap down her backside. They worked in silence, neither one in the mood to make jokes.
Lacey took a pair of scissors to an oversized t-shirt she found in the closet, cutting open the neck and sleeve so it was easier to put on. By the time Quinn got settled in bed, she was in a cold sweat again. Every move took all of her energy. Once she was truly settled and seemed to be comfortable, Lacey went back downstairs and heated up a
can of soup and toasted a couple of slices of bread.
They ate together on Quinn’s huge bed, watching The Not So Late Show with Johnny Falcon. “Have you met him?” Lacey asked.
“Yeah, I’ve been on his show a few times. He’s always sweet to me.”
Quinn was struggling to eat with her left hand. Lacey noticed and took over. “God, I even have to hand feed you. What’s next? Wiping your ass?”
“Would you rather clean up the mess I make from trying to wipe my ass with my left hand or just do it yourself?”
Lacey pulled the spoon away. “Are you serious?”
Quinn slowly nodded. “I’ll pay you a thousand dollars to wipe my ass.”
Lacey dropped the spoon in the soup. “I have my limits, you know. You can’t just throw money at me and expect that I’ll…”
“A million.”
“Charmin or Cottonelle?"
“See? Everyone has a price.”
Lacey shook her head in disbelief. “You realize there are nurses for this shit. Literally, a nurse would come here and do that for you for like…I don’t know…fifty dollars.”
Quinn just stared at her.
Lacey sighed. “Okay, fine. I don’t know what the going rate is for ass-wiping, but I’m pretty sure a real nurse would charge less than a thousand dollars.”
“Give me another spoonful of soup. I need to take a pill.”
Lacey reluctantly did as she was told. “I really don’t understand why you don’t want a professional. Is this some sort of power play?”
Emotion welled up in Quinn’s eyes. “No. I promise, it’s not.” She knew none of this made any sense, but she wasn’t sure she could explain how she felt without revealing too much of her life to Lacey, and she wasn’t ready for that. “This house is the only place in this world I feel truly safe. I don’t want strangers in my bedroom. I don’t want people poking around. And one day I might not have a choice about that. But today, I do.”
“But…I’m a stranger,” Lacey said. “I poked around your closet and stole a blouse. You didn’t even flinch when you saw me wearing it.”
“Well, I was pretty high. Besides, you needed a blouse,” Quinn said with a shrug. “Keep it. It looks cute on you.”
Lacey shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t understand you, but whatever. Open up.” She filled the spoon and held it in front of Quinn’s mouth. “And just so you know, I plan to charge per wipe.”
Lacey was right. Had it been anyone else, Quinn would have been horrified, wondering which drawers had been rifled through and what photos had been taken of her underthings. She couldn’t put into words how she felt when she fell off her bike and broke her arm. Someone saw it happen and called the ambulance for her. They found her phone in her pocket and asked who they could call. Her first thought was Lacey, but she hadn’t memorized her number and Quinn sure as hell wasn’t giving a total stranger the password to her phone.
As much as she didn’t want to trust Lacey, as much as she wanted to keep her at a distance out in the guesthouse, something inside told her Lacey wouldn’t betray her trust. Yes, she was a colossal pain in the ass, but her gut told her Lacey wouldn’t take advantage of her. And Quinn had learned to trust her gut.
***
Lacey awoke with a start and sat up on the sofa. 3 a.m. Shit. She was an hour late. She ran up the stairs to Quinn’s room and opened the door. Even with the low lighting in the room she could see that Quinn’s face was covered in sweat. “Thank god,” Quinn whispered. She was shaking, almost like she was shivering.
“I’m sorry,” Lacey said, grabbing the pain pills and filling a glass with water from the bathroom sink. She sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m so sorry,” she said again, grabbing a packet of soda crackers. She broke a cracker in two and watched as Quinn ate it. Once Quinn had swallowed, she put the pills in Quinn’s hand, but she was too shaky to do anything with them.
“Oh, god.” Lacey took them back and put them in Quinn’s mouth. She held the glass for her to drink and then blotted her forehead with a towel.
Quinn swallowed the pills and tried to settle her breathing. “Don’t touch me. Don’t move the bed,” she breathed out, closing her eyes. “God, it hurts.”
Lacey sat as still as she could, her heart pounding in her chest. She berated herself for thinking she could watch television and not fall asleep. “I’ll set an alarm on my phone,” she whispered.
“I couldn’t reach my phone to call you. I think it fell off the bed,” Quinn said, pointing at the floor.
“I’m so sorry,” Lacey said again. “You need a real nurse, Quinn.” No matter what the situation, Lacey couldn’t stand seeing anyone in pain. Especially when it could be avoided.
Quinn rested her hand on Lacey’s leg and closed her eyes. “No. I need you. Please stay.”
Lacey waited until Quinn’s breathing evened out before she dared move. She carefully stood up and backed away, a look of fear in her eyes and a big ball of guilt sitting heavy in her gut. She sat in an overstuffed chair in the corner, setting her alarm before she wrapped a quilt around herself.
She’d have a much-needed conversation with Quinn in the morning.
***
Lacey took the breakfast tray away and sat on the edge of the bed. They both had dark circles under their eyes from a lack of sleep, but Quinn was well medicated and seemed to be experiencing less pain at the moment.
“I’m going to try one more time to convince you to get a real nurse,” Lacey said. Quinn tried to sit up. “But…” Lacey put her hand on Quinn’s good shoulder, keeping her where she was. “If you’re so fucking determined to put us both through this hell…” She set a folder on Quinn’s lap. “…then, you’re going to have to keep up your end of the bargain.”
“What’s this?”
“The idea I told you about in the hospital. You pitch this to your producers and you won’t have to do this big coming out thing because you’ll already be out and America will love it.”
Quinn eyed Lacey suspiciously for a few seconds and then opened the folder. At the top of the page was written, A Story Arc for Jordan’s Appeal. Quinn read down a few lines and smiled. “Shrewd. You’re very shrewd.”
“You like it?” Lacey’s eyes were full of hope.
“I didn’t say that. And this isn’t a bit part for you, it’s a recurring role.”
“Okay, stop reading.” Lacey grabbed the folder and held it against her chest. “Let me pitch it to you. Jordan is working on a big case when she has an accident. Car…bike…whatever…she breaks her arm. Turns her into a complete bitch.”
Quinn cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow.
“What? It’s fiction.” Lacey tossed the folder on the bed and continued. “Now she needs help with everything. She can’t drive, she can’t type, she can’t even get her fancy courtroom suit jackets on. So, she picks a first-year associate in her firm to take on the job of being her little helper.”
Quinn pointed at Lacey. “Your character.”
“Yes. Only my character isn’t flattered about being the chosen one. She’s a Harvard Law grad and this is beneath her. She thinks one of the paralegals should be changing bandages, not someone who made fucking Law Review.”
“So your character swears as much as you do? Sounds familiar. Let me guess. They bicker about it, which the audience loves, and Jordan says, either you help me or you’re gone?”
“Exactly,” Lacey replied, pointing a finger. “Except for the swearing. This is network TV. But there’s this energy between them. This love-hate thing.”
Quinn took the folder and opened it again. “More love than hate, from the look of things.”
Feeling excited that Quinn could see her vision for the storyline, Lacey scooted a little closer and put her hand on Quinn’s leg. “Here’s the thing. We do this without the producers knowing it’s coming, because then they’ll think it’s their idea. They’ll see the chemistry between us…America will see it…and they’ll want more.”
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Quinn chuckled. “Tell me more about this chemistry you think we have.”
“Shut up. It’s acting, remember? You’re not the only one who watched YouTube. Turns out you’re not half bad either.”
“Not half bad?” Quinn huffed. “I believe I said you were brilliant, and all I get is a not half bad?”
“Well, we can’t all have such rich, nuanced material to work with.” Lacey suppressed a giggle. “Okay, fine. You’re brilliant too.”
Quinn considered it for a moment. “Okay. So, I tell them it’s a bit part for you while my arm heals, but we make it more, just because we can.” She chuckled again. “It’s totally Rizzoli & Isles.”
“Right. But with real, live lesbians. You know we can do this,” Lacey pleaded. “It’ll be subtle at first. People will replay the littlest things and think to themselves, is something happening between those two?”
Quinn knew they could convince the audience of anything. She just wasn’t sure it was as good a plan as Lacey thought it was. She laughed ruefully to herself. Sure, Quinn. Because now seems as good a time as any to worry about whether a plan is a good one.
Still, there were things to consider. Like how working together would affect living together. She relaxed against her pillow and studied Lacey, who was sitting there looking all beautiful and determined. She needed to be careful. “If I say yes, we still keep our deal. We keep it professional.” Her eyes fell to Lacey’s hand that was currently resting on her thigh.
Lacey pulled her hand away. “Of course.”
“I just don’t want you to think…”
Lacey stood up, putting some distance between them. “I assure you, I don’t think anything. Nor do I want anything except an actual acting gig. Not this bullshit real life…” she waved her hand in the air. “…nursing crap.”
“Good.” Quinn nodded her agreement. She wanted to keep the lines clear between a working relationship and a real one. She trusted Lacey, but not necessarily with her heart. “We need to keep this what it is.”
