| |
By Sunday afternoon, Stephanie was ready to get back to work the following day. She had spent the last few days wallowing in her own pity and eating more Chinese food takeout to last, well a few months at least. She spent time with her dog, April. By the time Stephanie had picked out an outfit for the following day, she had cabin fever.
So when the front doorbell rang, she was almost glad. She hadn’t known who to expect but the handsome Christopher Sinclair wasn’t on her mind, even if the did live in the same city. What strange luck to have not one but two billionaires circling her life.
“Mr. Sinclair. Good afternoon, can I—would you like to come in?”
“Please,” Christopher said with a good natured smile. “I promise not to take up too much of your time.”
Stephanie held the door open and took a step back to give Christopher room. As he stepped inside, his eyes swept across the hall and living room, taking everything in. “Nice place.”
She nearly laughed. He certainly didn’t owe her any platitudes. “What do I owe this pleasure? Are you looking for an interview? Or...”
“A friend of mine asked me to stop by. I also wanted to make a plea on his behalf. Though, that part has to be our little secret.”
“Of course.” Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “It might be easiest if you tell me what it is you need and who your friend is.”
“Bret Mitchell. We went to college together.”
Stephanie’s heart skipped a beat even if it the answer was what she expected. “I see. Is he okay? I heard the surgery was a success.”
“He could use a friend.”
The soft tone Christopher used, softened her heart. “I wanted to see him but he didn’t want to see me. I tried calling. I want to visit. I...” She shook her head and realized it was all excuses, wasn’t it? She was afraid maybe there was something more between them, even if Stephanie didn’t understand what it was.
“He’s hurting physically and emotionally. It’d be best if he tells you but he wants to see you. It took him all of three seconds to bring you up.”
Stephanie ducked her head down low to hide her smile. “Really?”
“Oh yeah. He’s embarrassed and afraid you’ll use the footage you’ve recorded to ruin him. If you have anything like that...”
“I have the footage,” Stephanie admitted, “but it certainly won’t ruin him. In either case, I’ve hidden it. I don’t want to use it until I clear things with Bret and my boss is desperate we make a name for ourselves. I blame myself for all of that.”
“I’ll tell him that but it’ll sound better coming from you.”
Stephanie sighed. “And if he won’t see me? You think I should just keep trying?”
Christopher grinned and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You’re a smart woman. I’ve seen your kind before. If you want in... I’m sure you can find your way in.” He headed toward the front door and Stephanie showed him out.
“Thank you,” she said as she pulled the door open. “I appreciate the heads up.”
“You didn’t hear any of it from me. He’s a tough guy but we all need a break every now and then, you know? Maybe he’s been broken longer than he’ll admit.”
Stephanie silently agreed. Glancing down at her casual sweats and t-shirt, she decided this outfit wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all.
*****
Stephanie arrived at the hospital freshly showered. Her brown hair was combed back, and she dressed in a yellow sundress with a light sweater. She stopped by the receptionist counter beside the gift shop. “Stephanie [Last Name] from Sweet Falls TV. I’m looking for the room of Bret Mitchell’s so I can do a little interview. It’s not every day we get a rich billionaire...” Stephanie blinked her eyes rapidly as she thought of how many billionaires had moved to town recently.
“It’s not every day they land in the hospital, right?” Stephanie gave her a wink.
But the receptionist shook her head with a sourpuss expression. “We can’t give away that kind of information.”
Stephanie gave a good-natured sigh and a tilt of her head. “Please. He’s expecting me.”
“Then he should have given you his room number,” the receptionist said dryly. She had no sense of humor at all. Stephanie sort of appreciated it, and didn’t, all at the same time.
“Fine, fine,” she held her hands up. “You can’t blame a girl from trying, right?”
The stink eye she gave Stephanie clearly meant that she could, in fact, blame her every which way until Sunday.
Stephanie moved on and sat behind a planter and held a magazine up. She kept an eye on the front desk and the moment the receptionist excused herself for her break, Stephanie sprung into action. She slipped behind the desk and bent over the computer, searching for Bret and his room number.
Room 233.
She cleared the screen as someone called out ‘hey,’ but by then it was too late. Stephanie sprinted to the elevator and slipped inside. On the way up to the second floor and room 233. A short elevator ride later, she was navigating the pale blue hall, looking for the right room. Nurses mostly ignored her and there was an occasional ding as patients needed extra help.
A few minutes later, Stephanie stood in front of room 233 and tried to regulate her breathing. Why was she so nervous? She centered herself, blew out a bunch of air and knocked on the door.
No answer.
Scowling, Stephanie knocked again. And again. She thought maybe he had been taken away for a procedure but then she heard his voice grumble. “Go away.”
So... he was in there. Typical.
“Hello?” Stephanie asked.
“Listen,” Bret sighed, “unless you’re the cute nurse from earlier with the little cup of pain killers, I really don’t want visitors.”
Stephanie pushed the door open anyway, Christopher’s words of advice echoing in her ears. “I might not be a nurse but some people think I’m cute.”
Bret was laid up in bed, his injured leg extended and wrapped tight with bandages. His face flashed with surprise and then it quickly fell. Stephanie felt her own spirits sag. She had to keep reminding herself Bret was in a bad place right now and she didn’t know everything he knew. It was the only thing that was keeping her from bolting for the door.
“You are cute. Very pretty actually. I just... no one wants to visit a depressed grump.”
Stephanie stepped inside. “I do.”
“What? Not even any flowers?” Bret joked.
“Sorry, knowing my luck, I’d show up with poison ivy.” Stephanie balanced her fingers on the footboard. “What did the doctors say?”
Bret crossed his arms and licked his upper lip. Stephanie knew it must’ve been bad but she didn’t think it would be that bad. “I’m going to need a few months of rehab. The mountain lion snapped my tendon. If I want to walk without a limp, or do anything else I used to love at all, it’s going to take a lot of work.”
He threw her a glare as he finished saying it. Stephanie thought he might’ve blamed her and now she saw that it was true. Well, wasn’t that something?
“I’m sorry,” Stephanie said. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
“I know you didn’t. You saved my life. I should be grateful.”
But he couldn’t? Is that what he was saying? “Sounds like you already gave up.” Stephanie sniffled down what could’ve been a painful round of tears.
“And if I have?”
“Then that’d be a darn shame. You’re strong, talented. You have decades left to give. I hope you don’t let a little accident set you back like this. I was really starting to respect and admire the man I met on that mountain top.”
Bret stared her down but his arms relaxed a little. That had to be a good sign. “I thought I imagined our connection. I thought it was the fever.”
Stephanie considered denying it. She thought of running out of the room, but she decided to stay and be honest. “I won’t be using the footage I took if you don’t want me to. I’m dropping the story. I want... I don’t want to put any more pressure on you. And I don’t need to hurt you to further my career. I couldn’t now.”
Bret frowned. “Why not?”
“I care too much,” Stephanie admitted with a whisper. “I’m not looking for you to admit anything or return what I just said. It’s fine. You have a long road ahead of you. But ever since you kissed me in the cave, well, I keep thinking about it. It’s what kept me going when I thought I was lost, searching for that helicopter.”
“I do feel the way you do. I just... I don’t know. Right now, the timing is just bad.”
Stephanie understood. Talk about an understatement. She nodded, unable to speak.
“But tomorrow, maybe you could come back? Maybe we could... Maybe you could wipe oatmeal off my chin.”
Stephanie cracked a smile. “Are your arms broken, too?”
Bret grinned. “And there she is.”
“I’d like to come back tomorrow. We can talk.” Stephanie felt like he had a lot to say.
“You must really like my chin.”
“It’s a nice-looking chin,” Stephanie admitted. “Is there anything I can bring you?”
His eyes sparkled, covering up a degree of his sadness. “Just yourself. And maybe a small box of chocolate. The food in this place...”
“Say no more. I know exactly what I’ll bring.” Stephanie grinned with a bit of mischief as she showed herself to the door. She thought she heard Bret mumble something to her as she left but she was almost too afraid to ask what it might be.