by Calista Fox
“Intimidating, I know,” Nikki continued. “Legalities up the wazoo and more procedures than you can shake a stick at. Not to mention all the additional, highly comprehensive training you’ll have to go through. A million and one hoops, yes. Each one of them worth it in the end,” she assured Kate with a more intent look.
“I’m not opposed to all the hoops,” Kate said. “I expect them, in fact. Would be severely disappointed if the process wasn’t this arduous. This…intimidating.”
“Precisely why I approached you with my idea, Kate. You’re an innovator. You’re a go-getter. You are not a woman who should be caged within office walls. I envision you making rounds that transcend traditional hospital psych wards and your own private practice. Rounds that involve helicopter transports and international translators.”
“Not to mention search and rescue teams.”
“An essential component to large-scale disaster-relief efforts.” Nikki gave an efficient nod. She was a striking redhead with pearl-white teeth. Her emerald irises appeared multifaceted and caught the light at every angle, sparkling almost distractedly.
She and Kate had gone to med school together. Nikki was, until very recently, the one person who knew more about Kate than anyone else. Jude now ran a close second. Too close, actually. Except that Kate had not shared the full extent of her “new adventure” with him.
Jude thought she was traveling Europe in chic, glamorous fashion to treat patients.
He had no idea she was talking to Nikki about providing immediate, pro bono counseling services to survivors of natural and industrial catastrophes. As an integral member of Nikki’s unit, Kate would be embedded within the search and rescue teams, having instant access to anyone in need of urgent emotional trauma therapy in an attempt to stem or, at the very least, minimize inherent post-traumatic stress disorders.
The initial phase of the program, however, would begin with hands-on training involving military Forward Surgical Teams that had seen combat and had dealt with every manner of horrific war and disaster scenario—in Afghanistan. An overseas stint for Nikki, Kate and the other therapists that would offer comprehensive emergency counseling experience in highly stressful and hazardous situations before they joined a designated SAR team.
There was a part of Kate that found this so incredibly exhilarating and invigorating, she reached for the first folio and flipped open the cover.
Unfortunately, her sensible side overrode her adventurous spirit, and Kate hedged. She closed the folder and rested her clasped hands over it.
“You know I have to read every single word at least five times,” she told Nikki.
“I’d expect nothing less from you, Kate. You also need your lawyers to give their interpretations, and there’s an abundance of medical requirements, estate planning in the event you don’t return, other consents to execute… A long and arduous process. Today’s about getting the ball rolling.”
“I’m astonished—and impressed—you’re doing this. It’s a privilege to be involved with your team, Nik.”
“Kate, you were an absolute rock for me while I dealt with Conner’s death after his chopper went down during a search and rescue mission.” Emotion tinged her voice. “You were the only person who grasped my desperate need to counsel his team.”
“They were devastated,” Kate gravely commented.
“Conner was a born leader—a damn charismatic one at that.”
As Nikki drew in a deep breath, Kate felt the emotion grip her just as fiercely.
Nikki said, “Losing my husband didn’t just impact me. There was a resounding ripple effect resulting from Conner’s death. Those who’d worked most closely with him… They saw an immortal fall from the sky that day. And had no clue how to cope with such a significant loss. The man’s death created a harrowing void in their lives. Not just in mine.”
“Or mine.” Kate choked down the lump swelling in her throat. “Another reason I’m here today, Nik. Regardless of how my commitment to you is going to send all my family relations into an even greater tailspin.”
Kate knew she faced one of her greatest complications as it pertained to sharing her new and highly dangerous venture with her family.
And oh, God…
Her eyes squeezed shut briefly.
What about Jude?
13
At the moment, Kate couldn’t fixate on Jude or his reaction to the full extent of her new professional mission. She already knew the direction she wanted to take, and it started right here.
Nikki and Conner had been the model couple. The very reason Kate had returned home her first winter break from college and directly ended the farce with Andrew. She’d seen the real deal with Nikki and Conner that initial semester at Princeton. And had vowed to herself she’d never settle for anything less.
What an amazing testament they’d been to the power of love from the very beginning! It hadn’t mattered that they were young and had different viewpoints and dreams of the future. Oddly, the disparities had been blessings in disguise, because every time they’d butted heads over their personal ideals and agendas, they’d learned something new and interesting they never would have considered on their own.
Sometimes, Kate had rolled her eyes at their incessant arguing. Sometimes, she’d gritted her teeth over all that arguing always leading to copious amounts of makeup sex Kate had to tactically avoid. And sometimes…she’d simply watched them out of the corner of her eye from the library or the student dining hall or the shared common room of their dormitory suite, in awe over two extremely different souls coalescing in a visceral way that made them gravitate to each other no matter the circumstance. No matter the complications. Whether they were on the same page or not, Nikki and Conner always found a way to agree to disagree so they could still support the other.
It’d been poetic and romantic and just plain sigh-worthy to so intimately experience them grow as a couple.
Kate wasn’t a believer in fairy tales, but she couldn’t help but clap her hands like she was saving a fairy’s life over every obstacle this couple cleared. Their triumphs were inspiring. And Kate had drawn upon all the lessons she’d learned from these two friends of hers to be a better, more rounded therapist.
Considering this—and extrapolating out to her current endeavor—she said to Nikki, “The training tracks you’re developing are robust, yet diversified and specialized. Counseling survivors of hurricanes, tsunamis, earthquakes, plane crashes, et cetera, and their family members vs. counseling the family members of non-survivors. Counseling first responders, including doctors and SAR teams. And so on. We only discussed me completing the first track, counseling survivors and their family members, particularly via telemedicine if the survivors aren’t immediately reunited with their loved ones, such as tourists stuck in a different country.”
“Correct. And you can remain that precise, Kate. There’s plenty of need for it, believe me.”
“What if I wanted to start there, but then branch out?”
Nikki smiled. “I already planned for that, Kate. The very reason there’s so many damn forms for you to sign.”
Kate laughed.
Nikki added, “You can’t help yourself, Kate. You see one cause and intuitively expand upon it. Just bear in mind, this all takes time and patience. Rome wasn’t built in a day and all that. This will be a lengthy and grueling undertaking.”
“I anticipated that. It’s very exciting, Nik.”
“And damn rewarding, Kate.”
They stared at each other. No words were ever necessary when thoughts of Conner hovered between them. Yet Kate said, “You’re the most amazing person I know. The strongest. The—”
“Kate.” Nikki’s deep-green eyes misted. “I’ve been to hell and back. I survived because of you.”
“No.”
“Yes,” she insisted. “You have a gift, Kate. You can pull people from the ledge. You can talk them through the worst nightmares, the darkest hours. I have inner strength, yes. Bu
t it takes so much more than a solid constitution to lose everything—every single piece of you—and come back from that. It takes recognizing you need help…and accepting that help.”
“Conner would have expected no less from you.”
Nikki snickered. Then sniffled. “You’re right. But more than that… He would have wanted me to use that shattering experience and everything I learned from it to help others, in turn. I have every intention of doing just that. I deeply appreciate that you do, as well. I’m sorry it involves a seemingly endless pit of paperwork—”
“I’m fine with the paperwork,” Kate told her. “This is an incredibly meaningful business venture, Nik. I’m proud of you for spearheading it. Even prouder you’ve included me.”
“You’re an anchor, Kate. I’m not sure you realize that. Even with your family… As much as they don’t understand what motivates you, they rely on you being consistent, dependable, forthright. Whether they agree with your choices or not, they know you don’t waver…and you keep others from going adrift. That constant stability can be very reassuring. Even if they do take advantage of it more often than not.”
“I don’t know about all of that. But…thanks for the sentiment.”
“They’ll freak, you know?” Nikki said with all sincerity and realism.
“One-hundred percent. Especially when they learn I’ll be so close to the danger zones. Forest fires, earthquake epicenters, the whole nine yards.”
“But you can weather that shitstorm.”
“I’ve weathered plenty of them in my lifetime.”
Once more, they stared intently and purposefully at each other. Then Nikki gave a decisive nod.
“You were born to ride the jagged waves, Kate.”
“A bit excruciating at times.”
“Naturally. Comes with the territory.”
Kate leaned forward, her gaze still holding Nikki’s.
“I might actually be dodging one particularly brutal wave at the moment.”
“You? Not a chance.”
“A patient,” she said. “Well…a former patient.”
“The one you were with last night at The Plaza? Jude McMillan.”
Kate gasped.
Nikki said, “Just because I’m out here on Long Island and no longer run with the Manhattan society circle doesn’t mean I’m oblivious. My stepmother was a guest at the engagement party. She sent me a text—and it had nothing to do with the blushing bride-to-be.”
“I swear, I live in a fishbowl.”
“Barbara indicated you’re dating a lawyer. Nice. Perhaps he can save you a few bucks by perusing these briefs…in his.” She wagged her brows suggestively.
“Ha, ha. Not his area of expertise.” Kate waved a hand in the air. “Well, strutting around in the black, butt-hugging variety is certainly in his wheelhouse.”
“My, my, Kate.” Nikki’s fingertips pressed together, creating a steeple under her chin. “You got that up-close-and-personal with him? According to the stepmonster, he didn’t leave a dry thong in his wake. True story?”
“Ugh,” she said on a sigh. “I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that Barbara says such things to you… Or the fact that it is, indeed, a true story.”
“Barbie is freshly married to a man nearly thirty years older than her. She can’t help but notice—and comment—on the studs.”
“Passive-aggressive,” Kate softly sing-songed.
“Fuck you,” Nikki melodically retorted. Then said, “I’m entitled. My parents were married for three decades. My mother had me when she was eighteen. Daddy was ecstatic. Then one day, Barbie arrives on the scene, at the country club to be exact, wearing the world’s most micro of micro-tennis skirts and batting her eyelash extensions and suddenly I’m a fucking statistic.”
Kate’s brow arched.
“Okay, yes. I was a fucking statistic before that. And even before I became the widow of a revered search and rescue pilot. My grades and test scores were practically unheard of for a woman at Princeton. I’m shocked to this day the Dean never demanded gender testing.”
“Yeah, well, even if there had been a discrepancy, I wouldn’t have sued the administration over assigning you to my dorm room. You had the absolute best closet on campus to raid.”
“Smartass,” Nikki quipped back. “You’ve seen the equipment. All original, factory model.”
“Bullshit! That perfect shade of auburn hair is—”
“All right, all right! The hair color was a post-showroom floor modification.” She winked. “Let’s not make a federal case out of it.”
“We’re resorting to lawyer jokes now?”
“If those briefs fit as sinfully well as you say they do.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Part of my charm.”
“Hmm. Well. Speaking of cases,” Kate added with a frown. “I think Jude is in the throes of one right now that’s messing with his mind. He won’t tell me anything about it, but I read in the paper that a woman died and—”
Kate gave a sharp shake of her head.
Christ, what was she thinking? She couldn’t have this conversation with Nikki. Or anyone else for that matter. It would invariably lead to Kate revealing Jude’s fiancée had killed herself, not to mention potentially compromising patient confidentiality and…
Damn!
No!
Back-peddling, she said, “Never mind. Look,” she reasoned as she stood and collected the armful of portfolios. “I have to get out of here, let you meet with your next victim—um, traveling shrink—and return to the city to sift through all of this.”
“Wow, Kate. Classic case of denial and avoidance. What gives?”
“Professional oath,” she simply said.
“Oh, fuck.”
Kate actually laughed. “You and Jude. Must be your favorite word.”
“Is that code for ‘I’ll introduce you two sometime?’”
“Not a chance in hell. He’ll take one look at you and forget my name entirely.”
“No way, no how… But aside from that obvious sentiment. Geez, Kate. Am I detecting a hint of jealousy or insecurity in your tone?”
“Nope.”
Nikki got to her feet as well, a coy smile on her face. “Come on, spill. Is he really the catch Babs purports him to be or—”
“Babs?” Kate inquired. “Have we swept passive-aggressive under the rug and moved directly to plotting this woman’s ‘accidental’ fall down a flight of very tall stairs?”
Planting her manicured hands on her hips, Nikki said, “The woman is five years younger than me, has never worked a day in her life or set foot in a college classroom, and is now sleeping on my mother’s side of the bed.”
“That’s painful,” Kate agreed.
“And if the pitter-patter of bare feet from a toddler is on the horizon… Jesus. Really, Kate. Keep me on this topic, and the next thing we both know, you’ll be prescribing meds and a straight-jacket.”
“Hardly,” Kate replied. “You are the queen of perspective. You just happen to be a little too close to the project at present. Take a few steps back. Don’t interact socially with Morgan and ‘Babs’ for a few weeks and take your mother to Elizabeth Arden. You will prevail.”
“Or end up on death row.”
“She’s not worth it, girlfriend.”
“Jury’s still out.”
Kate made her trek toward the door. “You’re not the homicidal type,” she said.
“How unfortunate for me.”
“I get it. I do. But my advice still stands.”
“And this guy you spent the night with?” Nikki prompted.
Kate spun around—as best as she could, given the load she carried.
“Who said I spent the night with Jude?”
“No one.” Nikki crossed her arms over her ample chest and gave a smug look. “You have that insanely satisfied glow about you and a much more relaxed disposition than this meeting warrants. All tell-tale signs a man rang your bell i
n the sexiest fashion, and for hours on end—not via a quickie in a dark corner of The Plaza.”
“There are no dark corners of The Plaza.”
“Whatever. The question is, Kate… Are you going back for seconds?”
14
Million-dollar question, is more like it.
Kate ruminated over her friend’s parting shot as she sat in the back of a Town Car on the return ride to Manhattan.
It was an interesting and complex conundrum, in that Kate truly did sense Jude was under some emotional strain from his work. This compelled her, of course, to want to help him from a professional standpoint. Conversely… She hadn’t gotten him out of her system.
How he’d turned the tables on her!
Kate had done a fantastic job all these years keeping her attraction to Jude under wraps. Not losing sight of her goal of helping him heal.
Now, she wasn’t just mulling over how he might be incurring a setback…she also couldn’t keep thoughts of his hands and his mouth on every inch of her from permeating her mind.
And all of those sensuous recollections were accompanied by the very distinct sound of his low groans, his sexy words, his lust-tinged tone, his harsh breathing…
She’d excited the hell out of him—and had the sore inner thighs to prove it. Not to mention a few bite marks she’d had to conceal with her makeup and clothing.
Kate wiggled in her seat as her stomach fluttered and a tickle against her clit stole her breath.
She knew better than to fixate on everything Jude had done to her, every orgasm he’d given her.
He was, for all intents and purposes, still forbidden fruit to Kate.
And yet…
She tried to settle more comfortably in the car. Willed her pulse to slow a tad. Wished like hell she could block from her mind all of Jude’s naughty words…her pleading for more…their cries of pleasure.
Kate had never been one to get herself entangled in dangerous liaisons. But she’d been powerless to resist Jude one day longer.
Now, she was paying the price for her lapse in focus, her inability to just say no.
