Rich and Seductive: The Fraternity Brothers Series Book Three

by Rose, Emerson

  “You do? Hey, that’s great. Things must be coming back. Whew, we were starting to think we were going to have to get out the old photo albums from college to introduce ourselves.”

  “Hunter?”

  “Yeah, man.”

  “Am I engaged?”

  He clears his throat and fidgets in his seat. “Well, uh, that’s a good question. Nobody knew you were, but Kelly showed up here with a giant rock on her finger, and since you two have been seeing each other again lately, we all figured you must have popped the question.”

  “I don’t remember asking anyone to marry me. Does Kelly have red hair?”

  He leans back in his chair, now more comfortable. “Kelly’s always changing the color of her hair. It’s red right now, though. Do you remember her?”

  “No. Not at all. A woman with red hair came here today and told me she was my fiancée, though, so it must have been her.”

  “Wow, you don’t remember her at all, like nothing?”

  I shake my head slowly as not to cause myself pain. It’s the fast, jerky movements that make me see stars and want to rip the syringe of pain medication from its pump and squirt it all down my throat.

  “You guys dated all through college. You broke up for a year and a half and got back together recently. Why, I’ll never understand.”

  I narrow my eyes at his tone. He doesn’t like her either. Thank God, I thought I was crazy.

  “You don’t like her?”

  “Oh uh, well, nah, she’s not my favorite. Sorry, I have to be honest. She broke your heart when she took off after graduation. She’s slept with half the state of California and, Lennon, I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think she’s a gold digger. You’re an awesome guy. You deserve so much more than her.”

  “I don’t think I like her.”

  Hunter’s face lights up. “Yeah? Maybe this conk on the head is a good thing, after all. You could totally use the amnesia thing to get out of marrying her if you did propose. Just tell her you don’t recognize her at all and voila, no more Kelly.”

  “It’s not a lie. I don’t remember her at all.”

  “But you remember me?”

  “It’s more like you feel familiar. And that memory of us running. But that’s all.”

  “For now. You’ll get the rest of it back, and if you don’t, I’ll tell you all about it. We have a million pictures from college. We can get those out and have a giant walk down memory lane.”

  “You’re a good friend. Thank you, Hunter.”

  He scoffs. “No problem. If you want, I can bring a few photo albums down tomorrow. I’m off for the next two days. I have time.”

  “Is it the weekend?”

  “No, I’m a firefighter. I work three days on for seventy-two hours, and then I get a few days off. It’s Wednesday, by the way, if anybody asks you. I hit my head once playing football in college, and they asked me my name and what day it was like every five minutes. It was annoying.”

  “Yes, they’ve asked me a few times, too. I never know. Every time I go to sleep and wake up, it’s like somebody pushed a reset button. The only thing I consistently remember is Angel.”

  “Angel? Okay, you got me. Who’s Angel?”

  “My angel, she was with me in heaven when I died, and she’s…” Wait, what is she again? It’s all so confusing. She was with me when I died. My heart must have stopped, and she was with me in heaven. But, how is she here with me now, taking care of me?

  “It’s cool, man, you’re still mixed up. It’s to be expected. I’ve seen a lot of people after car accidents struggle to remember everything. It takes time.”

  “That’s what everybody keeps telling me. It takes time. Everything will come back. Rest. I just want to know who the hell I am again.” The anxiety from earlier is creeping under my skin again. My heart is racing, a thin layer of sweat is breaking out all over my skin, and my head is throbbing.

  “Hey there. No stress, it’s cool. So, you saw an angel, huh? Wow, was she hot?”

  I focus on Hunter and try to control the anxiety. Deep breaths, in through my nose, out through my mouth. Somebody taught me that. I can’t remember who, though.

  “Yes. But, she’s here now. She takes care of me. I don’t understand how she’s here.”

  “Oh, man, that’s Trinity. Shit, I can see why you think she’s an angel. She’s hot. She’s your nurse, and I think she was with you when you came out of your coma. Maybe those two things are getting mixed up in your mind?”

  “Yes, that must be it. Trinity, I do feel like I’ve heard that name before.”

  “Well, it’s also the name of this hospital, so that makes it even more confusing. Trinity’s cool, she’s a friend of Evan’s. I think they dated for a little while, but they decided to be friends. I hadn’t met her until the other day, though. He never brought her around.”

  “Evan?”

  “Yeah, he’s another one of our friends from the fraternity. He’s a psychiatrist, or almost, anyway. He’s in his final months of residency. I’m sure he will stop in sometime today, he’s working downstairs. Also, Fiona is working today, too. Do you remember Fi?”

  For the first time, I have crystal-clear memories of someone. “Yes, she’s a nurse, right? She came to eat lunch with me. She’s tiny and has crazy, messy hair.”

  “Bingo! Dude, you’re gonna be back to your old self before you know it. Nobody forgets Fiona, not if they want to keep all their fingers and toes.”

  “She’s sassy and blunt. I remember almost everything about her. We met in college when she was cleaning… cleaning something.” It feels good to find something real and solid in my mind that won’t fade away like smoke.

  “That’s her in a nutshell.”

  “I think I like her.” Something tells me she is a good friend even though she’s a little nuts.

  “It’s a good thing. If you didn’t, she’d kick your ass.”

  “What other friends do I have? What about my family?”

  “Whoa, hang on there. How about we take it a little at a time?”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know, maybe so you don’t get too much going on up there and stress out,” he says, tapping the side of his head.

  “Oh, okay, that makes sense. What about my family, then?”

  “You know what, man, I don’t know a lot about your family. Damian is the one to talk to about that. You two talked a lot about family. I think your mom lives in New York and your dad in Europe somewhere.”

  “Divorced?”

  “I assume so. I think Damian was going to call them and let them know you were in the hospital.”

  Alarm bells go off in my head at the thought of my parents knowing what happened to me. I have no idea why. I can’t even remember their names or what they look like. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  “Oh yeah, why’s that?”

  “I don’t know. I just have this feeling that I wouldn’t want them here.”

  “You sure? Of all the people in the world, I would think your parents would be the ones who could help you retrieve your memories the best.”

  “No. I don’t think that’s true.” I don’t think my parents know me very well, or maybe we weren’t close when I was growing up. It feels wrong to have them come.

  “Okay, if you’re sure, I can have Damian call them back.”

  “Yes, please do that. I don’t want them here.”

  Hunter frowns and looks at me hard. “Are you keeping something from me, or is this just a feeling you have?”

  “It’s a feeling.”

  “Why don’t I see if Damian can come and visit you before we call your parents back?”

  “Why?”

  “Maybe he knows something that would help you sort out these conflicting feelings about your parents?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I don’t know if he’s left to go back to North Carolina yet. I’ll find out for you. Will you be okay by yourself for a little bit?”

&
nbsp; “Of course, I’m fine. Go ahead.”

  I watch him stand and leave the room with his phone in his hand already dialing. I close my eyes, and the next thing I know it’s past six o’clock, and a doctor is entering my room. I’m assuming he’s a doctor since he’s wearing a white coat. I don’t recognize him at all.

  “Mr. Berkshire, I hear you had an eventful afternoon,” he says, sitting in the chair next to my bed.

  “I did?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  I look away and try to pull a memory from my mind. Someone came to visit me, a friend, I think, but I can’t remember his name at the moment. “A friend stopped by.”

  “Yes, good. Do you remember which friend?”

  I close my eyes this time and try hard to remember, but his name simply isn’t there. “No, he was tall and blond, and I liked him. I remember that.”

  “Excellent, that’s progress. Each day things will come back to you, and each day more of them will stick. You’re doing well, so well in fact that I think you’ll be out of here by the end of the week as long as you have a full-time professional at home to help you.”

  “I can go home?”

  “Yes, not now, but soon. Would you like us to set up a home healthcare provider, or would you like to have someone you know do it for you?”

  “I don’t know anyone well enough to do that right now, you can arrange it.”

  “Very well, then. We’ll do another MRI tomorrow to make sure there are no more brain bleeds. Physically, you’re healing perfectly. We just need to work on healing your mind.”

  “Thank you, doctor… I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

  “Dr. Carmichael, and no worries.”

  No worries, yeah, easy for him to say. I can’t remember what I do for a living, where I live, or who my supposed fiancée is. I’d say there’s a lot for me to worry about.

  6

  Trinity

  At seven o’clock, my shift is over. I’m checking through my notes in Lennon’s chart and see an entry from Dr. Carmichael. They are considering his discharge by the end of the week. Seriously? How do they expect him to live on his own when he doesn’t even know where he lives?

  I read on and see that he has recommended a home healthcare worker. The thought of someone going home with and caring for Lennon leaves a bad taste in my mouth. That taste is none other than jealousy. Why would I feel that way about a man I hardly know?

  I have been his day nurse since he was admitted, and we’ve developed a rapport, but that doesn’t mean I have some kind of claim on him. Or does it? I could ask for a leave of absence and take the job myself in the name of continuity care.

  Ha, more like in the name of attraction. I am attracted to him, and it’s impossible to ignore. If he weren’t engaged, I would be running to the director of my unit to ask for the job. But he is, so I won’t.

  I peek in his door before I leave for the night and find him sleeping. How difficult would it be to remember things only to fall asleep and forget them again? It might not be all bad, I guess. There are a lot of things I’d like to forget when I fall asleep at night, like the drug addiction that almost killed me as a teenager. The offensive, rude, low-life crowd I fell in with when we moved from Derbyshire, England to West Yorkshire. The memories after my father lost his job and had to relocate. These are ones I wouldn’t mind losing forever.

  In the parking lot, I sit in my car and ponder whether or not I should inquire about the job. Fifteen minutes later, hot and tired after a long shift, I decide that it’s best to say goodbye to Mr. Lennon Berkshire at the end of the week and avoid what would only be a heartbreaking experience.

  I’m off for the next two days. That should be long enough to pull away and forget the athletic, sculpted, ruggedly handsome and charming man in room six.

  Who am I kidding? I’ll never forget Lennon for as long as I live.

  I stop at the grocery store to pick up things that I’ll need for the next few days at home. I don’t keep much on hand when I’m working several twelve-hour shifts in a row. It wouldn’t get eaten. But when I know I’ll be home, I pick up all my favorites—fresh fish to grill, veggies for salads and snacks, fruit, and my one indulgence, ice cream, lots of it. I keep in shape and eat healthy, but I allow myself to have as much ice cream as I want. It’s something my grandmother told me to do when I was growing up. Always allow yourself one special thing that you can count on always being there when you need it. For me, that’s double chocolate-chip fudge ice cream.

  I stop at the pet store for cat food on my way from the grocery store and head home. It’s late now, and I wish I’d saved grocery shopping for tomorrow. I’m tired, and I don’t feel like putting everything away now.

  I pull into my driveway, shut off the engine, and relax as soon as I hear the ocean. I adore living near the beach. It’s the only reason I bought my broken-down piece-of-crap house. It took me years to get it looking the way it does now with bright white rooms, turquoise accent pieces, an open concept with French doors that open onto a gorgeous patio with a view of the ocean.

  It’s everything I ever wanted on a smaller scale. I have two bedrooms even though I’d originally wanted one larger master. After a long talk with my designer, I went with two, so guests would have a place to stay if I have them. I’ve been happy with that decision since my parents have come to visit from England twice. They love their room, and it makes me happy to be able to give them a beautiful place to stay after causing them so much grief as a teenager. It’s the least I can do.

  My addiction to drugs led to a long chain of events that almost broke my parents emotionally and financially. They could live to be one hundred years old, and I would never be able to repay them for the patience and kindness they showed me during my recovery. I hope and pray that seeing me thriving in my career and living a clean, healthy life on the beach in California gives them the peace they so much deserve.

  I left England for a fresh start years ago and never looked back. It was the best thing I’ve ever done.

  I gather my bags determined to get them all inside in one trip and hear the phone ringing inside when I hit my front door. I’m probably one of the last people on earth who has a landline, but I don’t get the best cell phone service on the beach, and I can’t miss a call from the hospital. When we are on call, we have to be reachable at all hours, and my phone service goes out during every storm.

  I hurry to grab the phone off the wall in my kitchen while struggling to put the bags on the counter. My cat, Bikini, is on my heels, meowing for attention.

  “Hello?” I say a bit out of breath and lean down to scoop up Bikini.

  “Hi, Trinity?” a vaguely familiar voice says.

  “Yes, may I ask who’s calling?” My friends make fun of my phone etiquette, but my mother is an old-fashioned Brit who taught me to always use my manners on the phone.

  “It’s Fiona, I’m a nurse at Trinity, and I’m friends with Lennon.”

  “Oh yes, Evan has mentioned you. Is everything okay? Nothing’s happened to Lennon, has it?” I ask, sounding way too invested and make a mental note to dial it back a bit.

  She chuckles. “No, no, he’s fine. Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I’m told he might be discharged at the end of the week.”

  “Oh?” I play dumb in case she’s trying to catch me in a HIPPA violation. We aren’t supposed to talk about our patients. Fiona is a nurse, but she’s also Lennon’s friend, so she can say what she likes.

  “Yeah, and he’s going to need someone to take care of him. God knows that wench Kelly can’t do it. She’d leave him alone for a nail appointment.”

  I can’t help but chuckle at that. “She does look like she’s a wee bit high maintenance.”

  “You’re adorable. ‘A wee bit.’ I love your accent.” She laughs. “Anyway, the guys and I have talked it over, and we want you to be his nurse when he goes home. He knows you, and it’s important to surround him with anything familiar right now as y
ou know. We will come visit every day to help him with his memory, but none of us are in a position right now to take a long time off to care for him around the clock. Since I work at the hospital, I know about the special leave policy that allows staff nurses to take time off to do home healthcare. Your position will be held until you return, there’s no interruption in your seniority, and your hospital pay stays the same. So, you’ll do it, right?”

  This little spitfire is a bossy one. She’s all but planned this entire thing out for me without so much as asking first. “I’m not sure, Fiona. I love working in the ICU. It challenges me in a way that home healthcare can’t.”

  “Home healthcare pays double what you’re earning,” she says flatly.

  Double? Crap! Now that’s tempting. I could pay off the loans I took out for my renovations faster with double my income.

  “You’re tempted, aren’t you?”

  “Well, I could use the money, yes, but…”

  “But nothing. I’ll sign you up. Gotta go, my break’s over. Ta-ta!” she says, and the line goes dead.

  What the hell just happened? I believe I’ve been bamboozled by a tornado. Evan warned me that she’s made of steel and has manipulative superpowers. I’ve never experienced anything like her.

  That’s the second time today I’ve dealt with a crazy woman. At least this one is pushing me in the direction of Lennon. I have a feeling this new job opportunity is going to come with a lot of drama and turmoil. Thinking about dealing with Kelly daily has me reaching for the phone to call Fiona back, except I don’t have caller ID. I went with a turquoise-colored old-school wall phone when I decorated. It was a little bit of nostalgia. We had one in a lighter shade in our kitchen growing up back home.

  I could call Evan, but he’s working, and I don’t want to bother him.

  Bikini jumps from my arms, having had enough scratching for her liking. I switch on the kitchen light and open the French doors to the patio. The smell of the ocean envelops me, and I can hardly wait to sit out there and relax before bed. I go about putting the groceries away and feeding Bikini. When I’m done, I grab a throw from the back of my couch and a beer from the fridge and step out into the misty breeze.