Louise smiled happily. “Whatever you see fit to do dear. I trust your judgment.” She gave Hope the address. “Thank you dear. Good-bye.”
Hope hung up the telephone and looked at it as if it were from outer space. “What just happened?” She asked aloud as she folded the paper and put it into her jeans pocket.
Hope arrived at Raymond’s upper west side apartment ninety minutes later. She looked up at the very recognizable building. Somehow she wasn’t surprised that it was one of the most renowned apartment buildings in New York City.
Jimmy, the doorman, escorted Hope to Raymond’s apartment and handed her a sealed envelope. “Mrs. Gates said that I should give you this. It’s the office key to the elevator and Doc Gate’s apartment. She said that you already had the security code.”
“Yes I do Jimmy, thank you.” Hope took the envelope and turned it over reading her name neatly printed on the front. “Excuse me, Jimmy, when exactly did you speak with Mrs. Gates?”
“She called early this afternoon and told me to have the keys ready for you to pick up.”
“Mrs. Gates called you early this afternoon?”
“Yes, just after noon. She said that if you need anything, I should help you out. So, you need anything just call me. I’m on the intercom.”
Hope nodded her head knowingly. She’d lived in New York City too long not to know when she was being played. And this set-up reeked of a scam. She opened her purse to reach for her wallet. She pulled a large bill out and offered it. “Thank you, Jimmy, I appreciate your help.”
“Nah, don’t worry about that. Doc and his grandmother always take care of me and my family,” he said as his head bobbed up and down. He tipped his hat to her and stepped back into the waiting elevator. “Don’t forget, use the intercom if you need anything. The number should be by the kitchen phone. I’ll be here ‘til midnight.”
The doors closed leaving Hope standing in the posh hallway staring at her reflection in the polished brass chrome of the elevator doors. She stood there a second, her medical backpack slung over one shoulder, she finally looked around. The lavish open corridor, larger than her living room and dining room put together, was complete with ornate mirror, decorative wall prints, two high-back chairs and a beautiful silk floral display. It was breathtaking, torn right out of the pages of some opulent interior design magazine layout. “What am I doing here?” She wondered aloud t the empty space.
She walked over to the gilded mirror and looked at herself closely. Her starched white cotton shirt was buttoned to the top and tucked neatly into her blue jeans. She looked down at her white sneakers. Ideally, dressed as she was, she looked more like a college student then a thirty something professional.
The only give away to her true age was in her face. What little makeup she had used ha long since vanished, her tired eyes betrayed a long hard day. She fluffed at her curls and subconsciously ran her fingers over the scar. “What am I doing here?” She questioned again as she opened the sealed envelope and dropped the key ring into her hand.
She gathered up the short chain and eyed the cast metal several times before tilting her head in wonder, “what are you up to Louise Gates?” Her inner voice, naturally suspicious, sang out loud and clear. There was something else going on, she was sure of it. Louise Gates had an agenda. The question was, how and why did she fit into it?
Hope turned to the front door, rang the bell and waited. There was no answer so she rang it again. When there was still no answer, she inserted the key into the lock, turned and stepped inside.
Chapter Twenty-one
A soft buzzing sound alerted her as soon as she entered. Hope instantly remembered the security code Louise had given her. She dug into her backpack and realized it wasn’t there. Her heart began to pond faster. The buzzing had become louder and more pronounced. Jamming her hands into her jeans pockets she came up with a folded paper. She unfolded the pink paper and keyed in the series of numbers. The noise instantly stopped leaving a hushed silence.
Darkness instantly engulfed her. As her heart continued to pound, she called out. “Hello.” There was no answer. “Terrific,” she muttered. She looked around slowly adjusting her eyes to the darkness. She noticed a dim muted light glowed from somewhere beyond the open space. She sat her backpack down by the door and looked around for a light switch. Squinting, she found a control switch near the front door. She flipped the switch bathing the area with muted overhead recessed lighting. Overwhelmed by the sight, she let out a joyous laugh.
The apartment was huge.
The apartment was empty.
She stood for a moment pondering the sight. The spacious rooms were enormous, yet there wasn’t a single piece of furniture anywhere. Whitewashed walls and perfectly polished parquet floors were spotless and bare.
Hope walked further into the center of the vacant space. She turned around slowly to confirm her first impression. There was no doubt about it. The rooms were completely empty. Not a sofa, chair or table occupied the stark openness. She moved through the living room to the dining room area. A sparkling crystal chandelier hung down from the center of the completely empty space. She turned back to the living room seeing its one exception.
A large, as yet un-hung painting leaned up against the far wall. Hope walked over to the canvas. She bent down to get a better look. The overhead lights illuminate the tranquil scene. It was lovely a detailed oil painting of a waterfront house with a small cottage behind it surrounded by massive trees and colorful gardens. In the foreground were two young boys playing as large blown bubbles floated gracefully above their heads. The vibrant hues and impressionistic style added to the warmth and charm of the tender scene.
Smiling, she stood up, turned, and moved along to the row of curtain less windows that extended along one side of the living and dining rooms walls. She stood at the bare windows. Dusk had settled quickly. The twinkling sparkle of Manhattan’s nightlife was just beginning. The windows glowed with a soft warm sapphire blue tint that gave the cityscape below an almost dreamlike look of perfection.
Hope walked toward the back of the apartment. A dim light shown beneath a cracked door at the far end of the hall. Okay, she said to herself steadying her resolve, here’s the plan, if he’s in here with someone, just turn around and walk out.
She nodded with her plan firmly planted in her mind. Then she walked down the hall seeing four doors, all slightly open. Methodically, she checked them all. “Hello,” she said softly as she peeked into the first room. The room was empty, void of furniture, exactly as the rest of the apartment. The same was true for the next two rooms. The third was a hall bathroom. She readied herself for the last door. She turned the knob and entered.
The room was dimly lit except for a bright shaft of light coming from a second cracked door across the room. It split the muted darkness like a knife through a birthday cake. In the soft glow of its illumination, Hope was able to make out that this room was very different from the others in the apartment. It was larger, cozier and most surprisingly, it was completely furnished.
Perfectly outfitted, including what looked like nick-knacks and photos on the fireplace mantel, this was the mastery of master bedroom.
Dark walls of forest green perfectly matched the accented mahogany ceiling and chair rail circling the room. Two large armoires, matching the accent wood color stood side by side like attentive soldiers guarding what looked like the entrance to a walk-in closet and beyond.
Perfect balance was attained with the large flat screen television and wall unit, the desk and bookcase and the sofa and two armchairs. Calculated to precision, each piece countered and complimented the others in explicit meticulous balance.
Across the room the drapes were still open, even though the dusk of evening began to set, exposing a wondrous view of the seasons evening haze. Then, diagonally set, as if looming from the two corners on a raised platform, a sleigh bed broke the room’s idyllic symmetry.
She walked over to the bed seeing a
manly form lying atop the tousled bed sheets. Hope eased around to the side of the bed and switched on the nightstand lamp.
She looked down at the heap lying across the bed. He was completely clothed and face up. The two-day-old beard made her smile. He looked more like a dangerous desperado than a sleeping man. “Raymond?” She said softly. He didn’t budge. She moved closer. Seeing sweat beaded randomly across his forehead, she reached down to touch him. He was on fire. “Oh my God, you’re burning up.”
She quickly looked around and found another door leading to the bathroom. She hurried inside and grabbed several towels. She tossed two into the sink. Then she took the third and ran to the kitchen area. She held a towel beneath the refrigerator’s ice dispenser and gathered a mound of ice cubes. She hurriedly back to the master bath dropped the ice in the bathroom sink and poured cold water over the towels.
She reaching into the iced water and gingerly squeezed a towel damp then went back into the bedroom. She placed the towel on Raymond’s forehead and slowly maneuvered it across his face down his neck and over his arms. The fever’s heat immediately warmed the chilled cloth.
She repeated the action several more times. Then, as the towels were soaking in the iced water she went back to the bedside and began removing his clothing. Now semiconscious, Raymond rolled over with her assistance. Half awake he mumbled, “Hey, what are you doing?”
“I’m taking your clothes off.” She whispered seductively as if she were undressing a lover. She unbuttoned his shirt to the waist and spread it open. “You’re burning up. I need to cool you down.”
He smiled and muttered, “Good idea.” He shifted his shoulder out of his open shirt. She tossed it on the floor next to the bed then unbuttoned the waistband of his pants and pulled down the zipper. He mumbled something barely audible then drifted back into darkness. She pulled his pants down and then off, everything sliding down with them.
After she’d completely undressed him, she hurried to the bathroom and returned with a damp towel. But, as she walked to the bed, even in his fevered state, a primal urge struck her. Suppressing the impulse, she immediately cast aside the wayward thoughts. Medically speaking, it wasn’t professional. But she couldn’t help herself. Womanly desires tugged at her. The memory of their night together made her stomach quiver. She needed to focus.
She swallowed hard then shook her head, clearing the less than medical thoughts. She began gently rubbing his body with the cool towels. He lied there, still as death, while she worked busily to reduce his fever.
After several moments she stopped and returned to the bathroom and placed the towels back into the sink. She placed her chilled hand on her face. The sudden flush of cold instantly. She opened and looked through the cabinets for a thermometer and a fever reducer medication like ibuprofen or acetaminophen.
Finding neither, she went back to the living room and grabbed her backpack and headed back to the bedroom. She pulled out the thermometer and took his temperature. It was, as she’d feared, just above one hundred. If it were any higher she’d have immediately called an ambulance. She continued with the chilled towels to reduce heat of his fever.
As Raymond began to cool, she allowed the towels to come to room temperature and laid it across his forehead. The small nightstand light she’d left on by the bed barely illuminated the large room. She walked over to the bed and looked down at the peacefully sleeping Raymond. She smiled, he was pure man-child. The adorable honesty of boyish dreams melded with the hot sexual intensity of a viral man. She draped the silk sheet over his body.
Hope sat on the other side of the bed and examined her surroundings. The soft dimness of the bedroom held him in perfect stillness as he slept peacefully unaware of her presence. Deep shadows staggered around the room. Suddenly, she felt as if she were an intruder invading the sanctum of his inner most privacy. She watched as his bare chest raised and lowered and his slow even breathing sang in the stillness of his paradise.
His tranquility had bewitched her. She reached out her hand to touch him. But stopped, afraid she would awaken from her own dream. This wasn’t the man who had stormed into her patient’s room, and this wasn’t the man who had made love to her that stormy night. This was someone different. This was a man of strength and power - a man who soared with eagles and ran in the company of panthers. This was the man she loved.
It was easy to see how women fell for him. He was everything a young girl was raised to believe in and every woman fantasized about. Suddenly she wanted to care for him. He had drawn her into his web of seduction and she had gone willingly.
Resisting temptation, Hope stood away then walked back to the kitchen. She hung the damp towels on the rim of the sink and looked in the cabinets for a glass. She found a neat row of large wine goblets hanging from an overhead shelf. Grabbing a glass she went to the refrigerator for water. The inset dispenser gave her both ice and water. She poured her water, took a sip, and then leaned back against the counter.
She looked around the large kitchen. Terra cotta earth tones dominated the wall and floor tiles while cobalt blue and sage green accented the counter and island top. Of modern design, the lines were clean and stylish. With classic triangle style floor plan it was perfectly designed kitchen and looked as if it had never been cooked in.
Hope shook her head amazed how Louise Gates so easily was able to manipulate her into being here. Absently she opened the refrigerator in hopes of finding something to nibble on. To her surprise, the inside was as the rest of the apartment, completely empty, except for a half jar of green olives.
She opened the bottom crispers and found them empty. She went to the cabinets and discovered them just as bare. Then she remembered what Louise had said earlier about Raymond’s eating habits, or lack thereof. But, unfortunately, she was hungry and wanted something besides olives.
She looked around and found the number Jimmy had spoken about earlier. She called. He answered on the first ring. “This is Jimmy,” he chirped happily.
“Jimmy,” she began timidly. “Hi, my name is Dr. Adams. I’m staying with…”
“Yeah, Doc.” He interrupted. “How are you doing? How’s Doc Gates?”
“Jimmy, I wonder if you can give me the name of an area grocer and pharmacy that delivers.”
“Sure Doc, make a list of what you need and I’ll have it delivered.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, surprised by the simplicity of the arrangement. “I’ll have the list and a prescription in a few minutes.”
“Gimme ten minutes and I’ll be right up.” Jimmy assures her before hanging up.
Hope quickly jotted down a brief list of ingredients and some juices. She pulled her medical pad from her backpack and wrote out a prescription to help bring Raymond’s fever down. Then she grabbed her wallet and pulled out several twenty-dollar bills.
Nine minutes later Jimmy stood at the front door. He took her short list and prescription and the cash then promised to have everything delivered within the hour.
Sure to his word, in less than forty-five minutes he had returned with two grocery bags from the local store and a small white bag from the pharmacy.
Hope was stunned when she opened the door to the smiling Jimmy. “Hi Doc. I got everything you needed.”
“That was quick.” She stepped aside as he walked into the apartment and went directly to the kitchen. He deposited the two bags onto the counter. He pulled the white pharmacy bag out and handed it to Hope along with the twenty-dollar bills.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Oh yeah, I had the grocer and pharmacy put everything on the Doc’s tab. He’ll catch ‘em later.” Hope offered to at least give Jimmy a little something for his troubles. “Nah, that’s not necessary. Doc’s cool and Mrs. Gates always take good care of me and the family.” He started back to the front door. “Thanks anyway Doc.” He opened the door and stepped out into the hall.
“Thank you again Jimmy. I’ll make sure to mention how wonderful you’ve been.”
He smiled wide, tipped his hat and disappeared onto the waiting elevator. “See you Doc. Call if you need anything else.”
Hope closed the door and walked back into the bedroom. Raymond was still asleep. She rousted him awake just enough for him to swallow the two pills and drink some water. Afterwards he went right back to sleep and she went back to the kitchen. She unpacked the two bags leaving a number of the items on the counter. She washed her hands and pulled out a large pot she had seen earlier and began to work.
After boiling for fifteen minutes, the brew of chicken broth bubbled on the stovetop as she completed her last pile of chopped ingredients. Carrots, onions, celery, parsley, a pinch of basil, a dash of thyme, and other herbs sat on the cutting board next to the diced chicken breast. She seasoned and stirred the pot sending an aromatic cloud wafting through the kitchen.
One at a time she added the remaining ingredients giving each the opportunity to meld and blend with the seasonings. After all the ingredients had been added, she let the pot cook. Then gradually she added the cubed chicken and egg noodles. She covered the pot and lowered the heat allowing the soup to simmer until the vegetables were tender and the noodles were done.
In less than ninety minutes time she was savoring the aromatic concoction. She found an oversized mug in the cabinet and helped herself to a serving of chicken soup. It was perfect. She put the rest of the soup in the refrigerator then cleaned up the kitchen. Afterwards she went back into the bedroom to check on her patient. He was still asleep so she relaxed in the chair beside the bed.
Half an hour later, Hope looked up just as Raymond began to stir. She watched as he looked around then found her sitting in the chair next to the bed. She smiled down at him. “Hi. How do you feel?” Her voice was thick and husky.
One Sure Thing (Mamma Lou Matchmaker Series) Page 18
