Читать книгу A Perfect Trade - Anna Sugden - Страница 10
ОглавлениеCHAPTER TWO
TWO MONTHS LATER.
“Damn, I wish we were still playing.”
Tru’s older brother, Ike, slammed his beer down on the table and glowered at the big screen, where New York had just scored against Washington, in Game 6 of the first round of the play-offs. “We won the season series against the Rangers and would be doing a better job of beating them than those jokers.”
“The last two games ‘those jokers’ played against us, they got a boat race—6–1 and 7–2.” Tru didn’t mention that Ike, the Cats’ goaltender, had been pulled for the backup in both games. “It wasn’t our year.”
Ever since their season had ended, he and his brother seemed to have talked about nothing else. They’d analyzed the situation to death; from the coaches to their teammates, crucial plays in crucial games, injuries, setbacks and what should have been done at the trade deadline to boost their faltering roster. None of which had helped ease the pain and frustration of being on summer vacation while other teams—including their rivals from across the Hudson—were still in the hunt for the Cup.
Ike swore. “You’re not going to spout that crap about ‘only one team can be champions’ and ‘there’s always next year.’”
“Get real. I’m as pissed off as you are, but I have bigger things to worry about. Like where the hell I’ll even be next year. According to the rumors, I’ll be traded at the draft.”
“You should stay off the fan boards and social media sites. Most of the junk they post isn’t worth the time it takes to read.”
At least his brother didn’t blow smoke up his ass. “I can’t avoid it, Ike. My name’s everywhere and everyone’s hammering me about my future. If we were in the play-offs, no one would question if I still have what it takes.”
“Anyone with a brain knows you do. For sure, the people that matter do.”
“I wish I had your confidence. The Cats haven’t even opened a dialogue with my agent, despite Andy pressing them hard.” Tru drained his beer. “They’ll talk to him about his other clients, like J.B. and Vlad, though.”
“Things are dicey in the front office right now. They’re probably stalling until our owners decide what they’re going to do about the Cats management. The Scartelli brothers have said publicly their team’s poor finish in the standings is unacceptable and they plan to put it right. Until it’s clear what’s happening to the coach, they won’t move on player deals.”
“If Max stays, he’ll be forced to shake things up, and a new coach always reworks the team his own way. Either way, it looks bad for me.”
From the TV, the horn sounded the end of the first period and coverage switched to commercials. The waitress brought their steaks and another round of beers. For several minutes, the brothers concentrated on their food.
Then Ike raised a hand in greeting to someone behind Tru.
A familiar tickle between his shoulder blades alerted Tru to who his brother was smiling at. Though he knew it was a mistake, Tru couldn’t resist turning around.
Jenny.
His heart jerked in his chest, as it always did when he saw her. As it had since the first time he saw her, back in first grade.
Her smile, bright for his brother, faded when she noticed Tru. Her expression became cool and distant before she turned away pointedly.
Tru’s gaze lingered, despite his best intentions. She must have come straight from work; she wore a blue suit that matched her eyes. The above-the-knee skirt and coordinating blue spiked heels showed off her long, shapely legs.
His stomach twisted when a man approached Jenny and hugged her, before pulling out a chair for her. There was something familiar about the guy. Tru’s tension eased when he realized it was her boss, Harry Sturridge. Though Tru was annoyed with himself for caring who Jenny ate dinner with, he couldn’t help being relieved it wasn’t a teammate. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with that tonight.
Sturridge said something to make Jenny laugh. The husky sound seemed to reach out and caress Tru through the bustle and noise of the restaurant.
Shifting to ease the sudden tightness in his groin, he forced himself to look away and focus on his meal, slicing into his rib eye.
Surprised when Ike didn’t make his usual crack about the antagonism between him and Jenny, Tru looked up. Ike was staring at the television, where, based on the logo on the screen behind the commentators, a studio panel was discussing the Ice Cats.
“What’s up, bro?”
“I’m not sure.” Ike pulled his cell out of his pocket, tapped the screen and frowned.
Tru knew instantly it wasn’t good news.
Ike didn’t keep him in suspense. “The Scartellis just fired Phillip Hannah. They’ll announce a new general manager in the next few days.”
Tru’s appetite vanished. That was a bigger organizational shake-up than anyone had anticipated. “Max’s days must be numbered, too. A new GM always wants to bring in his own coach. That means changes throughout the roster—maybe even a total rebuild—and the easiest guys to get rid of are the unrestricted free agents.”
Tru pushed back his chair angrily. “That puts my neck firmly on the block.”
“Cool your jets. The team needs experienced players, even in rebuild mode.”
“They have plenty of veterans—you, Jake, Scotty Matthews, Ralinkov, Juergen. Hell, even guys like J.B., Mad Dog and Blake have Cup experience. I’m expendable.”
Ike couldn’t deny that. “The Cats won’t let you go for nothing. They’ll want something in return. On the upside, lots of decent teams need a skilled defenseman.”
“Great. Except I don’t want to move. I don’t want to start over with a new team, in a new town, with a new freaking system. I wanted to spend the summer making sure I was 100 percent fit for next season, not looking for somewhere to live.”
“Talk to Andy. That’s why you pay your agent the big bucks. Find out what it would take for them to re-sign you.”
“Right.” Tru stood and tossed some bills on the table. “Catch you later, bro.”
“You’re leaving good rib eye?”
“Yeah. But you won’t let it go to waste.”
Tru wound his way between the tables, heading toward the door. What a great year; first his love life, then the season and now his career going down the toilet.
Almost too late, he realized he couldn’t avoid passing Jenny’s table. He tried not to catch her eye. Unfortunately, as he walked behind her boss’s chair, their gazes clashed.
His pulse jumped. Heat seared through him.
For an instant, Tru thought he saw an answering fire in her turquoise depths, but it was extinguished immediately and replaced with ice. She averted her eyes abruptly and smiled softly at her dinner companion.
The sting of the virtual slap was as sharp as if her palm had connected with his cheek.
Tru continued without breaking his stride. Her laugh scraped his raw nerves like a whetstone on a steel skate blade.
Jenny’s reaction toward him was the one thing he could rely on right now. Wasn’t that a sorry state of affairs? He pulled out his cell and called his agent, desperately hoping there was something Andy could do to keep him with the Cats. Unfortunately, Tru’s gut told him the chances of a miracle save had just skated out of town with his GM.
* * *
“YOU HAVEN’T LISTENED to a word I’ve said, missy.”
Harry’s good-natured grumble made Jenny blink and turn her head from staring unseeing out of the car window. The bright morning sunshine reflected her giddy happiness.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t believe it. Everything’s happened so quickly. Last night, when we had dinner, I was plain old me.” She paused, then said softly, “Now I have a live embryo inside me. I’m sort of a mother-in-waiting.”
“You’ve never been a plain old anything. And you make a lovely mother-in-waiting. Do you feel any different?”
“It’s too early to have any symptoms.” Jenny giggled. “I won’t even know if the embryo implanted properly until I take the pregnancy test in two weeks.”
“I didn’t mean morning sickness. Do you feel any different in yourself?”
Jenny thought about it for a few moments. “Actually, I do. It’ll sound silly, but I feel almost serene.”
“My Alice felt the same each time she was pregnant. She’d laugh and say it was the only time in her life she’d ever be described as Madonna-like—the religious one, not the pop star.”
“That’s a perfect description. Though I wouldn’t mind a dash of the other Madonna, too.”
Harry laughed. “You could give the Material Girl a run for her money any day.”
“Thanks, but you’re a teensy bit biased.”
“Never. I’m a cynical, heartless bastard. Ask my kids.”
Jenny rolled her eyes. “They take your money.”
“Dollars spend easily, no matter who they come from.”
The lack of appreciation Harry’s children had for their father annoyed Jenny.
He had supported her through every step of the IVF process, with as much interest as if he were the grandfather-to-be. From helping her choose the sperm donor to taking her for ultrasounds. After yesterday’s egg-removal, he’d taken her to dinner, to distract her while she waited nervously to hear if her sole embryo was viable.
Naturally, this morning, Harry had accompanied her to the clinic for the implantation and would doubtless wait on tenterhooks to see if the procedure had been successful.
As if a cloud passed in front of the sun, her happiness dimmed a little. She knew the odds of success were lower than normal because she’d only been able to produce one embryo. Plus, her internal scarring might prevent her carrying a baby to term. “What if it fails?”
Harry frowned at the tremor in her voice. “Then you’ll try again. We discussed this.”
“But it’s so expensive. I can’t...”
“Don’t you dare say you can’t afford it. We have an agreement.”
“I know, but it’s a huge amount of money for one round of IVF, let alone three.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m a wealthy man. I still don’t understand why you won’t take the money in a lump sum, instead of separate payments for each attempt.”
“Because there would be too many zeros involved. I’m already worried it’ll take years to repay what you’ve lent me so far.”
“Lizzie’s education is your priority. Once she finishes college, we’ll talk again about a repayment schedule.” Harry patted his breast pocket. “Besides, I have your signed IOU tucked safely in here, in case you ever think of welching on the loan.”
Jenny smiled. She’d scrawled their money arrangement on a crumpled cocktail napkin, in pink Chanel lipstick, at dinner last night, when he’d tried once again to give her the money as a gift. “I promise not to leave the country.”
Harry chuckled. “Have you told Lizzie?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t told anyone.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to say anything until I know for sure the procedure’s worked.”
“Understandable. But this is a stressful time and you’re not giving anyone the chance to support you. I thought you might have told Maggie, at least. She’s your closest friend.”
Guilt twinged her stomach. Although Maggie had shared a lot about her past, Jenny had been reluctant to reciprocate. Jenny told herself it was for sound reasons, but she knew she wasn’t being fair to her friend.
“Maggie and Jake have been trying to get pregnant for the past year. I’m not sure how to tell her what I’m doing.” She sighed. “I’m scared of upsetting her.”
“Maybe, but she’d be there for you regardless. Having another woman to share this with, especially someone who’s also trying to get pregnant, might be helpful to you both.”
“I’ll think about it.”
As Harry pulled into the CVS parking lot, Jenny’s phone rang. She glanced at the caller display, pursing her lips as she declined the call.
“Damn lawyer won’t take no for an answer.”
“I thought you’d already told Connor Smith you wanted nothing to do with your uncle’s will.” Harry parked in an empty slot and turned off the ignition. “Why is he still hassling you?”
“He wants me to sign some documents to say I accept that the proceeds of his estate will go to charity and won’t make a future claim against the estate. I told him to mail the papers, but he’s insisting I go to his office.”
“Do you want me to set Barrett on him?”
Much as she’d love Harry’s high-priced barracuda to deal with the slippery lawyer, she didn’t want the fuss. “Not yet, but thanks.”
“Well, holler if you need him.” Harry unclipped his seat belt. “Now, have you got that list the IVF nurse gave you? I want to make sure I get the right prenatal vitamins, since the ones your doctor prescribed made you so sick.”
“I can get them.” She smiled. “I’m supposed to behave normally. Walking around a drugstore won’t do any harm.”
“But I can be in and out in ten minutes.” Harry’s jaw set. “Besides, I thought you didn’t want anyone to know about the procedure yet. Won’t people be curious if they see you looking at pregnancy vitamins?”
Harry had a point. She could avoid unnecessary gossip if he fetched the vitamins for her.
“We’ll go in together. You can get these.” She handed him the nurse’s note. “While I get some other things I need, like cotton balls and nail polish remover.”
“Okay. But the sooner you’re home with your feet up, the better I’ll feel.”
She patted his arm. “This is really all about your delicate feelings, isn’t it?”
Harry laughed. “Isn’t it always about me?”
The long line at the prescription counter made the drugstore more crowded than usual. As they walked past the small, seated waiting area, she heard someone calling her.
“Coo-ee, Jenny!”
Tru’s mother, Karina, waved her over.
Harry squeezed Jenny’s arm, then wandered off toward the vitamins aisle. He’d probably rub it in all the way home that they’d bumped into one of the last people Jenny would want to discuss a potential pregnancy with. Not because she didn’t like Karina—she was very fond of her—but because of the woman’s son.
Jenny glanced over at the counter. Her heart gave a little jolt as she saw Tru chatting with the pharmacist.
Why did he have to look so good? A faded red Ice Cats T-shirt stretched across Tru’s broad chest, showing off his toned arms and flat stomach. Blue jeans, worn almost white in parts—all the right parts—molded to his powerful legs and his fine backside. Her pulse fluttered; she’d always been one for great legs.
Stop! She dragged her gaze away, giving herself a stern talking-to. What was wrong with her? The fertility hormones had to be messing with her brain.
“Hi, Karina.” She hugged the older woman. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. I had to get my blood pressure medicine refilled. One of the good things about my boys not being in the play-offs is they can help me run errands.” She winked.
Before Jenny could respond, Tru joined them.
“Jenny.” He nodded coolly.
“Tru.” Her acknowledgment was equally cool.
“Ma, your prescription will be ready in a few minutes. Mr. Jordan says you need to remember to take the tablets every day, otherwise they won’t do you much good.”
Karina waved a hand dismissively. “I’m only taking the medicine to keep Dr. Harris happy. I’m as fit as a violin.”
His mouth quirked at the corner. “Fit as a fiddle, Ma.”
“Fiddle, violin. It’s the same, no?”
“Close enough.” He shared an amused look with Jenny.
Though Karina had been in America for most of her adult life, she still mixed up phrases. Back when he was a teenager, Tru’d been embarrassed by his mother’s mistakes. But Jenny, who had missed her own mother terribly, had helped him see that it was cool to have a mother who was different.
The warmth of the shared memory made her pulse flutter again.
“Karina Jelinek,” the pharmacy assistant called out.
“I’ll get it, Ma. Be right back.” Tru strode back to the counter.
Jenny felt strangely disappointed at the interruption.
Then she saw Harry walking toward her, holding a white plastic bag. Perfect timing.
“Good to see you, Karina,” Jenny said.
“You should come by the house sometime. I’ll make those apple bars you used to love.”
“Yum. I’ll visit soon.” She turned toward Harry.
He was a few feet away, when he stopped suddenly. He looked confused. Then his right arm dropped limply by his side and the bag slipped from his fingers to the floor.
Jenny walked over and picked up the bag. “Harry, are you okay?”
He looked at her and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
Worried, Jenny touched his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Again he tried to speak, but didn’t seem able to. His face was gray, his skin clammy.
“Is he having a heart attack?” Karina asked, behind her.
“I don’t think so. He doesn’t look in pain.” She pulled her boss over to the waiting area. “Sit down, Harry. You’ll be fine in a minute.”
He let her seat him, but looked at her as if he couldn’t understand what she was saying.
Panicking now, she called across to the counter. “We need help here.”
Tru’s head whipped round. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Something’s wrong with Harry.”
Everyone stood, staring. They seemed frozen in place.
Except for Tru.
He rushed over and crouched in front of Harry, studying him. “Does it hurt anywhere?”
Harry tried to speak again. This time his words came out garbled. Then he grabbed his head and moaned. As if in slow motion, the right side of his face began to droop.
Her gaze met Tru’s. She saw in the green depths that he’d come to the same terrifying conclusion as she had.
Panic clutched at her chest. “He’s having a stroke.”
“Call 911,” Tru ordered. “We need an ambulance. Now.”
Before she could move to get her phone, Harry’s eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the ground.
* * *
“BUT YOU HAVE to let me go with him.”
Jenny’s frantic words and stricken expression, as she watched the stretcher with her unconscious boss being loaded into the ambulance, tugged at Tru’s heart. She was normally so calm and in control, it was a shock to see her floundering.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’re prohibited from taking anyone in the ambulance.” The paramedic’s tone was sympathetic, but firm, as he closed the rear doors.
“Not even family?” She was clearly too upset to realize that arguing would only delay the ambulance.
“Jenny.” Tru touched her arm.
She whirled to face him, her body language angry and defensive. “What?”
His breath caught in his throat at the anguish in her blue eyes.
“Let them do their job.” He drew her away from the ambulance. “The sooner they get Harry to the hospital, the better.”
She glared at him for a few seconds, but gradually the frustration drained from her expression, leaving her pale and drawn. “He needs me there, with him.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “He shouldn’t be alone.”
The ambulance driver started the engine. Jenny flinched, then stepped forward, as if to stop the vehicle from leaving.
Tru put an arm around her shoulders. He tried not to notice that for a moment she leaned into him. “I’ll take you to the hospital. If we go now, we can follow the ambulance.”
She stiffened and pulled away. “I can manage.”
“I know you can. But you don’t need to. You’re worried about Harry. Let someone who...” He caught himself before he said cares. “Let me help.”
“I don’t want your help. I don’t need it.”
He ignored the sting of her words. “Really? You’re being stubborn about that now?”
Color filled her cheeks, but she crossed her arms. “I’ll be fine.”
“You’re too upset to drive. I’ll get you to the hospital quickly and in one piece.”
“You can’t. You have stuff to do.” Her protest would have been more effective if he hadn’t seen her hands tremble.
“The hospital’s on our way.”
“But what about Karina?”
“She...”
“Insists on taking you to the hospital.” His mom waggled a finger at Jenny. “You need friends with you.”
Jenny’s gaze flicked uncertainly between them. As the ambulance pulled out of the parking lot, she said, “Okay. Thanks.”
They got into his Range Rover; his mom in the back and Jenny alongside him up front. Then Tru pulled out, keeping the ambulance in sight as he drove through town toward the hospital. He forced himself to appear calm, while inside he hoped desperately that Sturridge would be all right. Jenny’d had enough bad news in her life.
She sat bolt upright, her eyes fixed firmly on the white-and-blue vehicle ahead. He wanted to touch her, reassure her, but she’d erected an invisible barrier around herself that he doubted he could breach.
Still, he had to try. “It’s a good sign they aren’t using the lights and siren.”
Jenny didn’t respond. Not even a muscle twitch.
His mom met his worried gaze in the rearview mirror.
“Does Harry have family, Jenny?” she asked.
“A daughter and a son.” Jenny started, as if waking from a dream. “I should call them.”
She pulled her cell from her purse. “Felicia is probably shopping or at a salon and Irving won’t be out of bed yet.”
“You could wait until we get to the hospital,” Tru suggested. “You’ll be able to give them a better idea of his status then.”
“Believe me, I’d like to delay, but I should let them know he’s been taken to the hospital. Just in case something ha-happens.” Her voice broke on the final word.
“Nothing will happen.” Tru regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He couldn’t guarantee that and he didn’t need Jenny to blame him for anything else.
He tried to backtrack. “We got help to him fast and he’s in the best hands.”
“In their shoes, I’d want to know as soon as possible.” She grimaced as she dialed. “I should just get it done. The worst they can do is yell.”
Neither of Sturridge’s children picked up. Jenny left a message, then dropped her phone onto her lap and turned her attention back to the vehicle ahead.
A few minutes later, the ambulance pulled into the hospital’s emergency vehicle area. Tru dropped Jenny and his mom at the main entrance, while he looked for somewhere to park. Luckily, he found a space quickly.
After jogging back to the main building, Tru found Jenny and his mom in the far corner of the crowded E.R. waiting room. Jenny was perched on the edge of a hard, plastic chair, her attention focused on the double doors leading into the treatment area. His mom sat to her right, pretending to read a tattered magazine.
“Any news?” he asked.
“None.” Despite her flat tone, the tremor in Jenny’s voice betrayed her emotions. “They’re running tests. They said it would be a while.”
“Okay. Well, you’d expect that with a suspected stroke.”
She nodded without taking her eyes off the doors.
Unsure what to say to ease her haunted expression, Tru sat beside her.
“You don’t have to wait,” she said stiffly. “I’ve already taken up enough of your time.”
“I won’t leave you here alone.” He braced himself for her protest, but it never came. Instead, she nodded again and kept staring straight ahead.
The E.R. doors swished open.
Jenny jerked at the sound, her gaze flying expectantly to the nurse who’d appeared. When her name wasn’t called, Jenny’s shoulders drooped and she slumped back in her chair. After a few minutes, she pulled herself rigidly upright and the vigil began again.
The cycle of anticipation and disappointment was repeated many times over the next hour. Each time, Jenny’s face grew paler and her body took a few moments longer to recover.
Each time, his chest squeezed a little tighter.
Tru hated feeling useless. At least on that terrible night years ago—when she’d finally admitted she was being abused—he’d been able to hold her, so the warmth and strength in his touch would comfort her.
Now all he could do was watch with her, and wait.
The depth of her emotional reaction made him wonder what the deal was with Harry. Jenny had worked for him since she was eighteen, but she acted as if they were really close. Like family. Like a lover?
Was Jenny sleeping with her boss?
Jenny’s personal life is none of your damn business. Hadn’t been for years. Yet the thought of her sleeping with the older man made Tru’s stomach turn.
“Jenny Martin?” A nurse’s voice cut into his thoughts.
Jenny jolted. She leaped up and rushed over to the woman in green scrubs waiting by the E.R. doors.
Tru rose to follow her then hesitated. Jenny wouldn’t want him with her.
“Go.” His mom nudged him. “She shouldn’t hear the news alone.”
Jenny didn’t acknowledge his presence when he joined her.
“Let’s go over here.” The nurse led them to some chairs at one side of the waiting room.
“How is Harry doing?” Jenny asked anxiously.
“His vital signs are strong, but he hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”
“Do you know why?”
“They’re still doing tests and it may be some time before they have an answer,” she said. “We’d like to admit Mr. Sturridge for observation. Could you help with the paperwork?”
“Of course.”
At that moment, a too-thin redhead in a figure-hugging green dress and matching spiked heels rushed into the waiting room. Tru recognized the type—rich, spoiled, nervous wreck.
She spotted Jenny and hurried across the room. Her expensive perfume preceded her; its cloying spiciness didn’t mix comfortably with the antiseptic smell. “Harry Sturridge. Where’s my father? What’s happening?” she wailed.
Before the nurse could answer, a man sauntered through the entrance and came over to join them. His deliberately rumpled linen suit and just-rolled-out-of-bed hairstyle marked him as the nervous wreck’s brother.
His sister collapsed into his arms with a loud sob. “I’m so glad you’re here, Irving. I don’t know what to do. Poor Daddy.”
“Who’s in charge around here?” he demanded, as he patted his sister on the back. “I want the best specialist looking after my father. Isn’t Dominic Watson on staff here? Tell him I want him to be personally responsible for my father’s care.”
“Your father is already receiving the best care,” the nurse replied briskly.
“Good. We can afford whatever’s necessary, starting with your best private room.”
“Oh, yes. Daddy must be settled as quickly as possible.” Felicia nodded.
Tru pitied Jenny’s boss. Hell, if these two were his kids, he’d have had a stroke just to get away from them.
The nurse patiently went through Harry’s status again. “Perhaps, as you’re next of kin, you’d prefer to handle the paperwork for his admission.”
Felicia fluttered her hands, looking panicked. “I couldn’t.”
“Good God, no. That’s what she’s here for.” Irving arched an eyebrow at Jenny. “That is what a personal assistant is supposed to do, isn’t it?”
Irritation spiked at the crude insinuation, despite Tru’s own questions about Jenny’s relationship with her boss only minutes earlier. He waited for Jenny to lambaste the man. She’d cut some of the biggest stars in the National Hockey League off at the knees for less, slicing through their egos like a sushi chef with fresh tuna.
But Jenny said nothing. She stood there, staring at Irving. The white knuckles of her clenched fists, hanging by her sides, were the only sign she was bothered by Irving’s gibe.
What the hell was wrong with her? Why was she letting him walk all over her?
“Your father would be in the morgue, if it wasn’t for Jenny’s fast action,” Tru snapped.
Sturridge’s daughter gasped.
Irving cast his gaze lazily over Tru. “Don’t tell me you brought one of your hockey hulks with you, Jenny?” His lip curled. “Can’t you do without them for one afternoon?”
Jenny’s hand whipped out and grabbed Tru’s arm as he curled his fingers into a fist. With surprising strength, she prevented him from smashing the arrogant ass’s nose.
For the first time since her boss had collapsed in the drugstore, she morphed into the haughty ice queen he was used to. “Show the hospital and your father some respect.”
The younger man flushed. “You little tramp. I’ll show you...”
The nurse cleared her throat. “Mr. Sturridge, please lower your voice. If you can’t control yourself, I’ll ask security to escort you from the premises.”
Before Irving could respond, his sister stopped him. “Daddy wouldn’t like it.” She turned to the nurse. “When can we see our father?”
“You’ll have to wait until we’ve completed our tests and he’s in his room.” The nurse kept her tone professional. “Take a seat and I’ll come for you when we’re ready.” She smiled at Jenny. “Ms. Martin, if you’d follow me.”
“Why does she get to go with you?” Felicia whined.
“You wanted me to handle the forms,” Jenny said stiffly. “If you’d rather...”
“Oh...no.” Felicia shook her head quickly.
“Just get it done.” Irving stalked over to an empty seat, followed by his sister.
Jenny turned to Tru. Her expression softened fractionally. “I appreciate your help, but you don’t need to hang around. This may take a while. I can get a cab home.”
“No way.” His tone brooked no argument. “I’ll wait and give you a ride.”
This time, her hesitation was brief. “Okay. Thanks. Hopefully, I won’t be too long.”
Her half smile hit him square in the chest. His next breath hurt, as though he’d bruised a rib. Damn. Some things never changed.
As Jenny followed the nurse through the E.R. doors, Tru returned to his mom and told her the score. “I can take you home, then come back for Jenny.”
“Don’t be silly. I want to wait for Jenny, to see if everything’s all right.” She frowned at him. “Are you feeling okay?”
Tru realized he was rubbing the center of his chest. “I’m fine. A little hungry,” he lied.
“I’ll make you something to eat when we get home. I have stew in a pot, waiting to be fired up.”
“Heated up, Ma.” He grinned.
“Heated, fired. It’s the same, no?” She shrugged. “Still tastes good.”
“Sure. Sounds great.”
The E.R. staff still hadn’t called Harry’s children through by the time Jenny returned, an hour later. A fact that Irving had complained about loudly every fifteen minutes.
Jenny spoke briefly to the pair, then joined Tru and his mom. Her mouth was set in a grim line as they walked out to the parking lot, and there were shadows under her blue eyes. Despite her stiff spine, an air of vulnerability surrounded her, making her seem fragile.
“Thank you for waiting,” she said wearily, as Tru drove out of the parking lot. “I’m sorry that took longer than expected. They let me see Harry for a few moments while they got him settled in his room.”
“No problem.” Tru pulled out onto the main road. “How’s he doing?”
“No change.” She sighed. “They don’t know why he hasn’t woken up, but everything seems to be working okay and the scans don’t show any major damage.”
“The body heals in its own time. Give it a few days and see how things look then.” He added lightly, “He’s probably playing possum to avoid his kids.”
“That would be just like him.” Jenny managed a half smile. “In the meantime, I’ll have to deal with Felicia and Irving. She’s always more needy and demanding when Harry’s not around. Irving hangs around the office, sticking his nose into everything and generally being a pain in the ass.”
“If you need help handling them, I can round up a posse of Ice Cats.”
“I may take you up on that.”
The rest of the drive wasn’t as tense as the trip to the hospital had been. Still, as they got closer to Jenny’s house, he sensed that barrier rebuilding around her.
By the time he pulled into her drive, Jenny was back to her normal, distant self.
“Would you like to come in for a coffee?” Her polite invitation was wooden.
“I should get Mom home.”
His mom frowned at his abrupt tone. “Will you be okay, Jenny?”
“Sure. Thanks again for your help today.”
“No need for thanks. That’s what friends do, look after each other.”
“Still, I appreciate it, Karina.” Jenny shot Tru a look with a message that needed no translation. He wasn’t her friend and she didn’t need or want his help.
“Don’t forget your shopping.” His mom held out a white plastic bag.
“Oh...yes...thanks,” Jenny stuttered and flushed.
Tru was relieved to pull back out of Jenny’s driveway and head home.
He hadn’t gone far when he noticed his mom’s pensive expression. “What’s up, Ma?”
“Nothing really.”
“Come on, something’s clearly on your mind.”
“I just wondered why Jenny would need pregnancy vitamins.”
* * *
“TRUMAN JELINEK CALLED again to find out how Mr. Sturridge was doing.”
Jenny tried to hide her surprise from the nurse. “How thoughtful.”
“He seems like a nice guy. You’d never guess he played hockey. Anyway, I told him there had been no change.”
“Thanks.” Jenny smiled then headed to Harry’s room.
She was relieved when the nurse turned back to her charts, instead of accompanying her. The last thing Jenny needed was a discussion about how nice Tru was.
Jenny hadn’t seen Tru in the ten days since Harry’s stroke. She felt guilty that she hadn’t made an effort to thank Tru properly for what he’d done. She couldn’t have got through those horrible hours without his help. His calm presence and steady support had been crucial. The doctors had been clear, too, that Tru’s fast action had meant Harry had minimal brain damage, improving his chances of recovery.
She owed Tru a huge debt of gratitude. How she repaid him was another matter, especially without seeing or speaking to him. Perhaps Hallmark had a suitable card.
Jenny rolled her eyes. Stress had clearly taken its toll on her sanity.
Aware that time alone with Harry was limited—his children visited every day—she slid her chair closer to his bed. He looked surprisingly well, as if he was asleep. His color was bright, with none of the pallor she saw in other bedridden patients. She almost expected him to open his eyes and demand to know when his next appointment was.
If only he would. The longer this went on, the more Jenny worried he would never regain consciousness. She couldn’t bear the thought.
“Come on, Harry,” she pleaded softly. “Enough’s enough. Time to wake up.”
Was that a hitch in his breathing?
Jenny’s gaze flew to the monitors at the head of his bed.
Nothing. Not even a tiny blip.
She looked back at his barrel chest, covered in a blue hospital gown. The steady rise and fall continued unabated. Must have been her imagination.
More like wishful thinking.
“If you don’t stop playing possum, I’ll start taking advantage. Do you really want me to play online bingo on your dime?”
Her mock threat didn’t have the desired effect. She hadn’t expected it to. Still... A shiver went through her as she wondered what would happen to her if he didn’t recover.
Don’t borrow trouble. She could count on Harry. Unlike other men in her life, he’d never let her down.
In a few days, she’d take her pregnancy test. He had to be awake for that—whichever way the result went.
Looking at her flat belly, Jenny wondered for the millionth time whether the embryo was still in her womb. She kept waiting to feel different. Not that she knew what it felt like to be pregnant, but figured she should feel something. Feeling nothing couldn’t be a good sign.
She swallowed hard and took Harry’s hand. “You can play hooky today, but tomorrow I expect to see you awake and giving the nurses a hard time.” Her voice cracked.
Clearing her throat, she pulled a newspaper and some magazines out of her bag. “So, to update you on last night’s second round play-off games, Buffalo topped Detroit in Game 3, 4–2. The Wings still lead the series, though. St. Louis took Minnesota to overtime, then beat them 4–3. That puts them up by a game over the Wild.”
Jenny read Harry the game reports, then told him the rest of the sports scores. When a twelfth inning Yankees win over the Red Sox didn’t elicit a response, she knew he wouldn’t be waking up today.
She sighed and moved on to a supermarket scandal sheet. “Now, your favorite, the latest celebrity gossip.”
Jenny had barely finished reading him the first article when a nurse warned that Harry’s children were on their way.
“Thanks for the heads-up, Dana. I’ll come back later.”
Jenny had avoided Felicia and Irving on her visits, thanks to the help of the nursing staff. She hadn’t been so lucky at work. Irving had become an almost permanent fixture, spending endless hours in Harry’s office. At least he pretty much ignored Jenny. Meanwhile, Felicia was so nervous about making even the smallest decisions for her father that she checked endlessly with Jenny about everything from which flowers to order for the house to which engagements to cancel.
Jenny stuffed the magazines into her bag and rose. “I’ll drop by this evening.”
She smoothed his covers then leaned over to stroke his hair. Lingering for a moment, she murmured, “Hurry up and get well. I have a feeling I’m going to need you.”
“For God’s sake. Why don’t you climb into bed with him?”
Anger shot through her; Irving’s crude comment scraped an already raw spot.
She deliberately took her time straightening, knowing it would infuriate Harry’s son. When she finally turned to face Irving, his lips were pinched with irritation. Felicia hovered in the background, looking as if she’d rather be anywhere else.
“This is a hospital. There are rules about that.” Jenny flicked her hair over her shoulder. “You might get turned on by a public sexual display, but I prefer privacy.”
“You should watch how you speak to your boss.”
“I don’t work for you.”
“Actually, you do.” Triumph lit Irving’s eyes. “Felicia and I have been appointed as Father’s legal guardians and we’ve been granted power of attorney.”
Felicia nodded quickly. “It was approved this morning. Irving will manage the business while I take care of the personal side of things.”
A chill went through Jenny. So that’s what Irving had been up to.
She tried to sound calm even as she tamped down the panic rushing through her. “I thought the doctors said there was nothing to indicate Harry’s coma would be permanent.”
“They did,” Irving drawled. “But as there’s so much money at stake, I thought it better to make my temporary stewardship of the business more official.”
Talk about putting the fox in charge of the henhouse. “I see. I guess you’ll want to set up a time to go through your requirements with me.”
“That won’t be necessary. I don’t need your services.” Irving smiled smugly. “You’re fired. Effective immediately.”
Jenny gasped. “You can’t do that.”
“Actually, I can and I have the court documents to back me up. Clear any personal possessions out of the office by the end of the week.”
What would she do? How would she support Lizzie? “What about notice and the salary I’m owed?”
Irving’s smile turned feral as he drew an envelope from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to her. “According to this contract, you’re entitled to two weeks’ salary or payment in lieu. The money will be in your account by close of day tomorrow.”
This couldn’t be happening.
Jenny opened the envelope, took out the papers inside and flipped through them. Her stomach dropped when she saw the terms. “This contract is out-of-date. That’s not my current salary. It hasn’t been for years.”
Irving shrugged. “That’s what we’re obliged to pay, unless you have written proof otherwise.”
She cast her mind back, desperately trying to recall any formal letters about pay. “There must be something in my file about my raises.”
“That’s all there was,” Felicia said apologetically. “I made them double-check because I was surprised Daddy hadn’t updated your contract over the years.”
“And you seemed so important to him.” Irving shot his cuffs. “He may have given you all his attention, but he gave us what really mattered.”
Light-headed with the news, Jenny couldn’t react to the snide envy in Irving’s tone.
He continued, “Unless you can produce documents proving something different, we’ll fulfill the letter of your contract.”
She fought to keep her expression neutral, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing how badly his news had shaken her. If there was ever a time for Harry to open his eyes and rescue her, it was now. She didn’t need to check the monitors to know her wish hadn’t been granted.
What would she do? She had to find a way to get through this nightmare until Harry woke up and fixed this mess. One thing was sure, she couldn’t stay here.
Jenny moved toward the door.
“One more thing.”
She stopped and turned. Her heart lurched as Irving pulled a familiar, crumpled cocktail napkin out of his pocket. A terrible roaring filled her head. She grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself.
“It seems you owe our father a substantial sum of money. Expect a letter from our lawyers.”
“Not right away, of course.” Felicia’s smile was overly bright, her tone eager to please.
Irving shot his sister an irritated look. “But we will call in the debt.”
Unable to force a word past her tight throat, Jenny walked out of the hospital room, holding her chin high. She managed to hold herself together, until she reached the parking garage and sank into her red Audi TT. Lowering her head to the steering wheel, she swore.
How could she have let this happen? How could she have left herself so vulnerable?
Surviving without her paycheck would be tough enough. No way could she afford to pay back that IOU. Three-quarters of the money had already gone to the IVF clinic, with the rest due any day. There was just enough left of her savings to scrape together the payment due soon for Lizzie’s tuition and board. Otherwise, she was flat broke.
Jenny drove home in a daze; half her brain on the traffic, half on what she could do to make ends meet. Get another job. Sell her car. Sell stuff on eBay. Rob a bank.
As she pulled into her driveway and parked, she was no closer to a solution. Though, obviously, robbing a bank wasn’t a viable option. She didn’t have a gun or a stocking mask.
Getting out of her car, Jenny felt a slight tug in her womb.
She froze.
The tug came again. Her breath caught. Please no. Not this, too.
Her body trembled as she waited anxiously to see if it happened again. After a few minutes, she released her breath in a hiccuping sob.
Must have been a false alarm. A warning that she couldn’t take any more stress.
The phone was ringing as Jenny walked into the house. She was tempted to ignore it, but changed her mind when she saw who was calling.
She’d barely said hello before Lizzie demanded to know what was wrong. “Is it Harry? Is he worse?”
Jenny closed her eyes for a moment and tried to sound normal. “No. He’s the same.” She explained about Felicia and Irving being appointed Harry’s guardians. “But I’ve been fired.”
“How dare they? You’re Harry’s girl Friday.”
“I should’ve seen this coming when Irving brought his secretary with him.” Lizzie’s fury on her behalf soothed Jenny’s battered soul, but it didn’t solve her problems. “I can get another job, but not one that’ll pay even half what I earn now. I’m hardly well-qualified, with only a GED. I shouldn’t think Irving will give me references, either.”
“There has to be something you can do. It’s an unfair dismissal. Talk to Maggie or her sister—they must know a lawyer you can talk to.”
“I can’t afford a lawyer.” Jenny bit her lip. “Don’t worry. I’ll figure something out. Besides, once Harry gets better, this will all be fixed.”
Assuming he got better. She couldn’t bear to think about the alternative.
“Why don’t you do something hockey-related? Maybe something in the media. You have incredible knowledge of the sport and you’re familiar with the teams and rinks. Players, coaching staff and commentators already respect your insights. I’m sure readers would, too.”
Lizzie’s words made Jenny pause and consider. People in the game did feel comfortable around her. She was often asked advice about shots or plays or her opinion of the opposition.
A tiny bubble of excitement bounced in her stomach. “That’s a good idea. I know the sports editor at The Journal. Maybe he could find a slot for me. Though, technically, there’s only a few weeks left in the season.”
“There’s still all the stuff over the summer—the draft, free agency. It’s worth a shot.”
By the time Jenny hung up, she felt a little less panicked. She had a few options she could pursue. She sank onto the couch and leaned her head back against a cushion as she made a mental list of who she could approach.
She’d got half a dozen names on the list when the tug in her lower belly returned.
This time, it didn’t stop, but turned sharp and stabbing, like a period cramp.
Even though she’d given up believing in God years ago, she sent a quick plea heavenward. Don’t let me lose the baby.
Jenny sat motionless on the couch, delaying. She knew what she had to do, but once she did that, all hope would be gone. Sure, she’d have to wait a few more days to take the pregnancy test to confirm it, but the evidence would be there.
As the seconds passed, the pain got worse until she was clutching her belly. Finally, she could bear it no more. She forced herself to go upstairs. Her heart thudded heavily with each step. Once in the bathroom, tears spilled down her cheeks.
Jenny didn’t need to see the blood to know the IVF had failed.
