by Radclyffe
“Same world, maybe—different continents. Come on, Harp. You’re on opposite sides on this. The two of you couldn’t be further apart.”
“No, that’s just the thing. We should be, but we’re not.” Harper recalled opening the on-call room door and finding Presley outside in the hall, how grateful she’d been to let someone she trusted take charge for just a little while. She didn’t have to hide how scared she was, how the fear of losing Jimmy Reynolds was eating her alive. Presley knew. “She—gets me. Gets what I do, what I need.”
“Uh-oh. That sounds bad.”
“It wouldn’t be, if she’d just let herself believe it.”
“Maybe she doesn’t feel the same way,” Flann said with a gentleness she rarely showed to anyone other than her patients.
Harper braced her elbows on her knees and put her face in her hands. Maybe Presley really didn’t feel what she felt, the connection, the understanding, the desire. Maybe it was one-sided and she’d been deluding herself the whole time. “I guess that’s possible. I guess when you want something so bad, it blinds you to what’s real.”
“Crap,” Flann muttered. “Look, what exactly did you tell her? Did you use the L-word?”
Harper almost laughed. “What are we, in high school now? No, I didn’t tell her I loved her.”
“But? I hear a great big fat but at the end of that sentence.”
“But I do. I don’t even have to think about it. It just is.” Harper rubbed the spot in the center of her chest that hurt every time she took a breath. It wasn’t a physical ache, this longing in her soul for the sight and sound of the one person who filled the empty spaces inside, but every bit as real…and agonizing. “She fits. She fills me.”
“Yeah, and she’s smoking hot too.”
“You keep it up, and I might throw you out the hatch headfirst.”
“Are you sure it’s not just that? That, you know, you’re thinking with your hormones? You wouldn’t be the first.”
Harper shook her head. “You might be a sucker for a hot body, but I’m not. I don’t work that way. Sure, she’s gorgeous and I want her, but there’s always been more than that.”
“This is sounding worse and worse.”
“It isn’t, at least it wouldn’t be if I knew that she cared. That I wasn’t alone in all of this.”
Flann shrugged. “Okay, fine. Then you need a plan. What exactly did she say?”
“That she won’t talk about anything between us until things at the hospital are settled.”
“That makes sense. Things will get rough if she closes the place. A lot of people will have hard feelings. That’s gonna make any kind of relationship twice as hard. Maybe you should just wait—”
“Wait? For what?” Harper jumped to her feet and paced in the small space, circling the oak. “Until life is easy? Until there are no obstacles, no challenges? There will always be those things. I know what she does, and I understand the decision that she’s made. I might not agree with it, but I understand it.”
“Harper,” Flann said sharply, rising too, pacing in the rest of the space so they barely had enough room to pass one another. “Think about it. If she closes the Rivers, how are you ever going to resolve that between you? The Rivers is everything to you. Always has been.”
Harper abruptly stopped. “You’re right. It has been. Past tense. I understand now that the Rivers isn’t everything and can never make me completely happy. Maybe you’re right, maybe Dad should’ve tried to balance things better—”
“Bullshit,” Flann said. “I was wrong to criticize him. He wasn’t alone in making the decisions. Mom is no pushover. If she’d wanted something different, she would’ve seen to it.”
“Maybe.” Harper recalled the conversation she’d had in the kitchen with her mother. “And maybe she just understood that that’s what he needed.”
“What do you need, Harper? Do you know?”
“I always thought I did. I wanted a life like Mom and Dad’s. I wanted to be as good a doctor as Dad. I wanted to be important to people in the community, to be part of their lives. I didn’t realize that even if I had all of those things, I would never be happy if I was still alone.”
“And Presley is the one?”
“I want her. I need her in my life.”
Flann sighed. “Well, sitting around up here isn’t going to get that done.”
Harper grinned. “Finally, we agree.”
*
As Presley’s plane circled Detroit, she closed her laptop and stowed it in her computer bag under the seat. She flipped open the file folder on her lap and reread the few pages. Harper had been busy. As it stood, Harper’s proposal to affiliate ACH with the Albany Medical School and RPI’s combined BS-MD program to train medical students and residents in community-oriented specialties like family medicine and geriatrics was intriguing, but it wasn’t enough. Harper was correct in concluding that such an association would bring in federal funding for every student and resident they trained, but it would be too little too late. They’d need more staff to run the program, for one thing. Student housing, more insurance. She rubbed her eyes. In all likelihood the initial investment to get the programs up and running would offset any new sources of revenue, at least for a few years. For long-range planning, the idea had promise, but it was not the salvation the Rivers needed.
She couldn’t see any way to make it work. She’d give anything if things were different, but they weren’t. That was the easy answer and the easy out for her. She’d tried, but the Rivers was beyond saving. Only each time she came to the same conclusion, the less happy she was about it. She kept seeing Emmy Reynolds’s terrified eyes and Harper’s bone-deep fatigue, and knew neither woman would ever quit. Emmy and Harper were warriors, and the community was filled with them—ordinary people fighting every day for the ones they loved. Harper would keep fighting to save the Rivers until the padlock went on the gates, and she’d come to Presley for help. Presley was failing her, and the failure was a bitter ache in her heart.
The plane taxied to the gate and Presley thought of the next few hours when she’d finally be home. She had her own fight in Phoenix. That was her battleground, and it was time for her to marshal her forces and take the fight to Preston. She wondered why the idea of winning what she’d wanted all her life left her feeling so empty.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Presley stopped at her condo on her way through the city to SunView’s headquarters. The two-bedroom apartment in one of the most sought after high-rises was clean and orderly—she had a service come in weekly whether she was in town or not—but the air smelled artificially pure with the faintest undertone of chemicals she’d never noticed before. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city skyline, affording her a million-dollar view that held none of the pulse of life she was used to seeing out the leaded-glass panes of her hospital office window. No birds nesting, no branches fluttering, no flowers in bloom. There were planters along some of the avenues and elaborate window boxes on the fronts of many upscale boutiques, but the cityscape was one of concrete and glass rather than living plants and beings, unless you counted the people, and then the city teemed with life—the identities and faces of passersby anonymous and unnamed. The doorman in her building was one of the few people she saw outside the office whose name she knew. Within a few weeks back in Argyle, she’d learned the names of everyone on Harper’s softball team, the nurses in the ER and many of the clinical areas, and the clerks at the gas station and mini-mart.
When she’d left Phoenix she couldn’t wait to return. Now she was here and felt like a visitor. Maybe the airplane really was a time machine and she’d just been hurled into a different world. She wasn’t sure she belonged here any longer, where success was measured in currency rather than inner satisfaction and where family meant status and obligation rather than support and loyalty and love.
Presley sighed. She might be straddling two worlds and fit in neither, but she was here now and she had a lot to
finish. Resolutely, she put thoughts of Harper and the past—or future—aside. She showered off the fatigue and grime of travel, aware of the absence of the rattling pipes that usually accompanied her morning shower, dressed quickly in a skirt and jacket, stepped into medium heels, and relocated her papers and laptop into a briefcase that was coordinated with the outfit. As an afterthought, she slipped Harper’s proposal in along with the preliminary reallocation report she’d printed out to review with Preston and the other managers.
On her way to the elevator, she called down to have her car brought around to the entrance. The expansive marble lobby was empty and sterile feeling. Rooster would find nothing to eat here. She nodded to the doorman and hastened outside for a breath of air. The heat was a wall that slapped at her, and she hurriedly upped the AC in her Mercedes. At SunView, she parked in her reserved spot on the first level close to the elevators and keyed herself in with her ID card. She didn’t know the people in the elevator, and when she reached the executive level and walked through the central hall to her corner office, she passed only a handful of people who even knew she’d been gone. This had been her universe, her province, and now she was a stranger here too. Had she really been so rootless and never noticed?
Her desk was neat and orderly, just as she’d left it. She sat down, let the receptionist who handled calls when Carrie was away know she was in, and confirmed she had a meeting with Preston in an hour. She was about to call Jeff Cohen, her inside man, to catch up on the latest power moves among upper management, but stopped before she’d picked up her phone. She didn’t really care. The politics and personal agendas seemed shallow and petty to her now. But then, what made her any different than Preston? Her goals were the same as his—to one day head the company, to walk in her parents’ footsteps, to finally have them notice her, value her. Didn’t all children want to please their parents? She thought of Harper and Flann and Carson and Margie—individuals all and yet each confident in the pursuit of her goals. She didn’t doubt for a second, and neither did they, that they would be loved regardless of their choices, and not because they succeeded in something their parents valued. What did she value? What did she want?
She picked up her cell phone and quickly tapped in a number. The wait was interminable, but she knew it could only be a few seconds. She didn’t really expect an answer.
“Harper Rivers.”
“Harper,” Presley said, caught as she always was by the smoky timbre of Harper’s voice. She couldn’t think for a second why she had called. Hearing Harper’s voice suddenly seemed enough. Everything.
“Presley!” Harper’s voice warmed, heavy with pleasure. “Where are you?”
“At my desk. In Phoenix.”
“How was the trip?”
“No problem. How’s Jimmy?” Presley pictured Harper at the nurses’ station, leaning against the counter, sleeves rolled up, hair tousled, looking relaxed and confident. The image made her think of home.
“He’s looking good this afternoon.”
“Oh, that’s good news.”
“Are you okay?”
“Well, I—” Presley took in her surroundings again. “Yes. Fine. But I miss…a lot of things.”
“Me most of all, I hope.”
“Most assuredly,” Presley said, delighting at the playful note in Harper’s voice, “you most of all.”
“Good. I like when you miss me.”
The sexy tone was back, and Presley’s heart jumped. “Then you should be happy.”
“I will be when you’re back,” Harper said. “When will you be home?”
Home. She was already home, wasn’t she? Why didn’t it feel that way? The condo was more like a hotel room than home. Her parents’ home hadn’t been hers since she’d left to go to college, and even before that, it had been a little like living in a resort where her parents entertained between trips. This office was home, but the view when she looked out the window was of a land in which she had no place. “I’m not sure.”
“You are coming back, aren’t you?”
“Yes, of course.”
Harper sighed. “I really miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
“I’m glad you called. You beat me to it. There’s something I wanted to tell you.”
“I’ve read the proposal—”
“No, not that.” Muffled voices rose in the background and Harper murmured, “I’ll be right there.”
“I’m keeping you,” Presley said. “I’m sorry. I know this is your busy time—”
“Yes, but look, I’ve only got a minute…I want you to know no matter what happens, the way I feel about you, it’s not going to change, no matter what you do.”
Presley’s throat tightened. “How can you be sure?”
“Because that’s not how love works.”
Presley squeezed her cell phone, the blunt edges biting into her palm. “Harper. I’m not very good at this—”
“You’re great at it. Come back, and I’ll remind you.”
“All right…” Presley laughed, the sky opening inside her. “Yes, I will.”
“Hurry home,” Harper said. “I’ve got to go. Call me.”
Presley murmured good-bye, disconnected, and sat for a moment thinking of Harper, of family, of belonging. She had no reason to wait until her appointment with Preston. She gathered her papers and strode across the hall to his corner office opposite hers. She nodded to Marjorie, his personal assistant, and passed by without waiting for her to call in and announce her. She opened the inner door, walked through, and closed it. Her brother, tall, lean, tanned, and with the same sun-gold hair and blue eyes as hers, looked at her from behind his sleek glass-and-steel desk with the same cool appraisal that she often turned on others.
“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Preston said.
“Really? There wasn’t all that much to do up there.”
“It’s all wrapped up, then, is it?”
And there it was. She could be done with it all, have a quick kill, and get back to the business of winning her father’s seat. Then she’d have everything she ever wanted. A month ago she wouldn’t have hesitated, and she didn’t now. She knew what she wanted.
She sat down in the chair in front of her brother’s desk and crossed her legs. “I think it’s time you and I came to terms.”
“Are you sure you want to do this now?” Preston steepled his hands beneath his chin in a delaying gesture very reminiscent of her father. He wasn’t her father, though. He wasn’t quite as quick, quite as ruthless, or quite as able to generate the same loyalty. That wasn’t her problem. She was quick and ruthless and she understood power.
Presley smiled in anticipation of the coming battle. “Quite sure. And long overdue.”
*
Harper woke at dawn to the sound of a car slowly crunching over the stones in her driveway. She checked out the window, saw Presley’s car, and quickly pulled on sweats and a T-shirt. She found her sitting on the top step, her shirt rumpled and her dark trousers uncharacteristically creased.
Harper sat down beside her. “I guess you flew all night.”
Presley leaned against her shoulder. “Yes. I’m afraid I look it too.”
“You look beautiful.” Harper wrapped an arm around her waist. “Been home yet?”
“In a way,” Presley said, her voice thoughtful.
Harper entwined their fingers and kissed the top of Presley’s hand. “Glad you came here. Nice way to wake up.”
Presley smiled, half-whimsical, half-wistful, and her eyes sparked. “I rather thought you liked waking up with me next to you even better.”
Harper’s belly tightened and a wave of lust momentarily short-circuited her brain. When she could draw breath, she sucked in air and let it out slowly. “I wouldn’t have minded if you’d come upstairs instead of stopping on the porch.”
“Really?”
Harper leaned forward and braced her arm on the railing, caging Presley with her back against the post
. She kissed her long enough to bring Presley’s arms around her neck and a soft moan from her throat. When she pulled away, she whispered, “Really.”
“I could use a shower.”
“How about I wash your back.”
“How about you wash all of me.”
Harper tugged Presley up by the hand and pulled her close. Hunger clawed at her insides, and she kissed her again. Presley’s taste fed her craving. “I could live on you forever.”
“Let’s see you try.”
“Quick shower,” Harper muttered and hauled Presley laughing through the house. She found clean towels while the water was warming and by the time she stepped into the bathroom, Presley was naked under the spray. She yanked off her T-shirt and sweats and got in with her, crowding her up against the wall and kissing her again. When she cupped Presley’s ass, Presley pushed her away before she could get seriously involved.
“I want to be in bed when you make me come,” Presley said.
Groaning, Harper had to lock her knees to stay upright. “I’ll do anything you want. Anywhere, anytime.”
“Good.” Presley stroked two fingers along the edge of Harper’s jaw, down the center of her throat, and between her breasts. “That sounds perfect.”
Harper twitched. Presley’s voice was cool, calm, with the kind of control Harper had seen the first day. She loved Presley’s power, loved her fire, loved the command in her voice every bit as much as the softness of her mouth and the welcome of her body.
“I need you now.” Harper slowly slid to her knees and pressed her cheek to Presley’s middle. She closed her eyes. “Please. Don’t make me wait.”
Presley tugged her up with a fistful of hair and kissed her. Smiled. “I’m ready.”
Harper twisted off the water, grabbed a towel, and wrapped Presley in it. She quickly dried off and, naked, led her into the bedroom. She yanked down the covers the rest of the way, took Presley’s towel and tossed it toward the bathroom, and muttered, “Sheets are clean.”
