Читать книгу Hollywood Hills Collection - Lynne Marshall, Amalie Berlin - Страница 35
ОглавлениеABI ARRIVED AT The Hills on her second day wearing her smartest dress, a simple black jersey wrap, and nude-colored heels. She had a thin gold chain around her neck but she still wasn’t sure if she was dressed smartly enough. Freya had arranged a morning tea yesterday to introduce Abi to everyone and all the staff she had met had seemed extraordinarily beautiful and impressively well-dressed.
She supposed it made sense given that the clinic serviced the wealthy and elite of Los Angeles society but she wasn’t sure how, or if, she measured up by comparison. She suspected both her wardrobe and her looks were severely lacking and decided she’d have to wow them with her medical talents instead.
She found her way to her office, where she was greeted by Jennifer, the secretary who took care of her and Damien, and the news that Damien had requested an eight-thirty meeting.
A white doctor’s coat was hanging behind her office door. Still unsure about her outfit, she took the coat off the hook and slipped it over her clothes. She would feel more comfortable and in control if she was already in scrubs but this would have to do. Perhaps she could engineer her diary to ensure she spent most of her time in Theatre—she felt at home in that environment and in that uniform. She checked her reflection in the mirror on the wall and saw that the coat had The Hills’ intertwined double H logo monogrammed on the breast pocket. Like everything else in the clinic, even the coats had been taken to the next level.
Damien’s door was open. She took a moment to check him out before she knocked. He was wearing a different suit today, dark navy with a pale blue shirt and a red silk tie embroidered with blue fleurs-de-lis, but he still looked as if he’d stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Abi pulled the white coat more firmly around her as she knocked and entered. Her whole outfit had cost no more than a hundred dollars; Damien’s tie alone had probably cost twice that.
There was a coffee waiting for her and Damien slid it across his desk as she sank into the leather seat by the window. His office was identical to hers in size and also looked out onto an internal courtyard complete with a bubbling water feature that had a stunning metal sculpture as its centrepiece. Everything about this place was slick and professional and for the first time since the previous day Abi relaxed slightly. It would be nice to be associated with this clinic. This move could turn out to be a good decision and having something work out right for her would be a pleasant change.
‘Milk?’ he asked, making a reference to their unexpected meeting last night. His voice was deep but it lightened when he smiled. She’d noticed how it changed with his mood, from serious surgeon to friendly colleague to charming shopper, and she wondered which one was the real Damien.
She nodded but Damien was already adding it for her. ‘Do you know how our patient from yesterday is? Clementine?’ she queried. She’d been worried all night about the young woman who’d gone into cardiac arrest.
‘She’s in a stable condition. I just spoke to Geoff, our cardiologist. He’s monitoring her closely but he’s happy. She wasn’t physically strong enough to undergo surgery so, in a way, this is not a bad outcome. She’s had a long-standing eating disorder that her parents thought was being managed but it appears not. Clementine needs to agree to get more help,’ Damien replied.
‘What was she booked in for?’
‘A breast enlargement,’ Damien explained. ‘James had been delaying her operation, telling her she had to put on weight because her body wouldn’t cope with an anaesthetic, but I have no idea if this episode will make any difference. From what I understand, she’s had intervention and therapy many times before. Freya is going to see her with her psychologist’s hat on—she has a special interest in patients who have eating disorders—but if Clementine isn’t receptive she’ll be transferred to another facility. Apparently Clementine wants to stay here and her parents have agreed so that will be the carrot Freya dangles.’
James Rothsberg was the head of the clinic and also a reconstructive and plastic surgeon, and Abi was relieved to hear that he had put the patient’s well-being first but surprised to hear that Clementine had been scheduled for a breast enlargement. ‘Do you do a lot of cosmetic surgery here?’
‘We are in Hollywood.’
‘I realise that.’
‘It’s not all we do,’ Damien continued, ‘but you’re assisting me in Theatre today and it’s what’s on our list and what I wanted to talk to you about.’
‘We’re doing cosmetic surgery? That’s not what I expected.’ She was a specialist in the field of plastic and reconstructive surgery but her experience was in the reconstructive side of things. Cosmetic surgery wasn’t her forte.
‘It’s awards season in Hollywood,’ Damien said as he shrugged his shoulders in his bespoke suit jacket. ‘The film industry awards are only twelve days away, which makes this our busiest time of the year. Everyone wants something done without anyone knowing about it. James can’t possibly keep up with the demand so I lend a hand.
‘Don’t worry, no one will know you’ve relaxed your ethics,’ he added, making her wonder if he’d had another look at her résumé and refreshed his knowledge of her background. ‘The celebrities don’t want anyone to know they’ve had surgical assistance to look their best on awards night. We have a lot of rather wealthy and sometimes reclusive patients who demand privacy and anonymity. They won’t mention your name and they expect the same consideration from you.’
He smiled again and Abi’s breath caught in her throat. ‘All your recognition will come from your reconstructive work and there will be plenty of that. We have an arrangement with the Bright Hope Clinic to do some charitable work for the underprivileged children who are treated there and that, along with the other external referrals that come to us for reconstructive surgery, will keep you occupied most of the time. But this cosmetic work on the celebrities and their partners, and the Hollywood heavy hitters and their mistresses, wives and girlfriends, and the cash they are prepared to part with for the best medical care and for our discretion means that we are able to do that charity work, and I suspect that will appeal to you.
‘You will get paid for any charity work that you do but The Hills, by which I mean James, absorbs those expenses. We are strong believers in giving back to the community. It’s a win-win situation. So, does that make you feel better about today’s list?’
Abi nodded. She hadn’t really thought about the ramifications of the clinic’s location on the client base but Damien’s explanation did ease her conscience. Besides, the surgical procedures were the same no matter what you called them. Although the surgeries were performed for different reasons, aesthetics or function, the actual operations were similar and giving them labels such as cosmetic or reconstructive was really just semantics.
‘Okay,’ Damien continued, ‘on today’s list we have two blepharoplasties, one neck lift, two liposuctions, a breast lift and an arm lift. I have to warn you, a couple of our patients are men. One is a very well-known actor who has decided to treat himself to a neck lift and the other patient has recently left his wife and is planning on unveiling his much younger girlfriend at the awards and he wants to take a few years off his face with an eyelid lift. But remember, discretion is something we guarantee at The Hills and I know it’s been written into your contract but I need to know that you can rock a poker face. It doesn’t matter what we think about cosmetic surgery, these patients have their reasons for undergoing this work and we need to be discreet and respectful.’
Abi had plenty of her own insecurities. While she didn’t think she’d ever resort to cosmetic surgery, as her insecurities weren’t really physical, she could understand people’s need to change or to make a better version of themselves to boost their confidence, and she wasn’t going to judge them for their choices. She understood that different things worked for different people and she certainly wouldn’t criticise a patient’s decision, although, given the opportunity, she thought she might try to dissuade some of the people some of the time.
She wondered what the clinic’s policy on that was. Was honesty considered the best policy or was the bottom line the main consideration? But she wasn’t going to ask that question on her second day. She would toe the line for the moment, there would be time to find out later just how much she was expected to keep her opinion to herself.
‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said as she finished her coffee. ‘I understand how this works.’
The day ran smoothly and the time passed quickly, as it always seemed to when she was immersed in surgery. She was impressed with Damien’s skill but also with the way he related to the theatre staff. He treated everyone with respect and she could tell that the nurses adored him. She had done a large percentage of each of the surgeries under Damien’s watchful eye and he’d been encouraging and complimentary about her skills. As far as she could tell, there was not a vast difference between cosmetic surgery and regular reconstructive surgery, although it was perhaps always important to make sure the stitches were as tiny and neat as possible, and preferably hidden, in all cosmetic procedures. But neat stitching was one thing she had always prided herself on.
They were finishing off the second blepharoplasty and there was one more surgery still to come when the theatre phone rang. The blepharoplasty was something different for Abi. She was used to repairing eyelids, stitching eye injuries and even, on one occasion, making a new eyelid, but to do an eyelid lift purely to make someone look younger was novel.
The scrub nurse had answered the phone and Abi could see her looking at Damien. ‘Dr Moore, it’s for you, it’s your daughter’s school. Apparently no one has come to collect her.’
He had a daughter?
She didn’t know why she was so surprised. She knew he was a ‘we’ but a daughter was more than she’d expected.
‘Can you finish up for me, Dr Thompson?’ Damien asked as he tied off the last stitch. Abi glanced at the clock on the theatre wall. It was already after four in the afternoon and she wondered what he was planning on doing. ‘She needs ointment applied to her eyelids before they are bandaged,’ he continued.
‘I can do it,’ the theatre nurse offered. Abi wasn’t sure if she was offering because she saw Abi’s vague expression and took pity on her or whether she was trying to get into Damien’s good graces, but Abi wasn’t about to let her take over. She could do this.
‘I’ve got it,’ she said.
She listened in to Damien’s conversation as she applied the ointment. He could have taken the call on another phone but he seemed quite happy to have the conversation in front of the staff.
‘This is Dr Moore,’ Damien said, as the scrub nurse held the phone to his ear. He could feel the pressure building in his chest as anger rose in him. What was Brooke up to now? She was supposed to be collecting Summer from school. Had she forgotten again? What was the point of making arrangements with her if she was so unreliable? He worked hard to accommodate his ex-wife, he wanted to make sure that their daughter got to spend time with both of them, but sometimes Brooke made it impossible.
‘Summer hasn’t been collected,’ the woman on the end of the phone told him. ‘She has been sent to after-school care and I need to notify you. I need to make sure she is picked up by six o’clock.’
‘I’ve been in surgery all day, I’m still in surgery and I won’t be finished by then.’ Damien was aware that all the theatre staff could hear his conversation quite clearly but it was too late for secrets now. Abi was busy bandaging their patient’s eyes but he could sense by her posture that she was listening just as intently as all the others, but he couldn’t worry about them. Summer was his priority, now and always. ‘Have you contacted her mother? She was supposed to collect her.’
‘Of course, but she is in New York.’
‘What? She’s where?’ God, that woman was unbelievable. What the hell was she doing in New York?
‘She told me she contacted you.’
‘What? No, she hasn’t,’ he said, but he knew what she would have done. She would have left a message on his cellphone. No matter how many times he told her he didn’t check his cell if he was in Theatre, she never listened. Brooke always danced to her own tune; other people’s lives were of no consequence to her, she didn’t make allowances or exceptions for any of them, not even her own daughter. Once again, Damien would have to pick up the pieces left by Brooke’s selfishness. ‘Can you give me five minutes?’ he asked the woman on the phone. ‘I’ll make some arrangements and call you back.’
He nodded to the scrub nurse to hang up the phone and let out another expletive.
‘What’s going on?’ the theatre nurse asked.
‘Summer hasn’t been collected from school,’ he replied. He had another couple of hours left in Theatre and just five minutes to work out a solution. He wouldn’t be finished before six so he wouldn’t be finished in time to collect Summer.
His eyes roamed the room as he tried to figure out what to do. Abi taped the last bandage in place and looked up just as his gaze settled on her. She might just be the answer to his problem.
‘Abi, do you think you could do me a favour?’ he asked.
Damien looked worried, stressed, and Abi thought it was probably best that he didn’t operate while in this state. ‘Sure,’ she replied without hesitation, expecting he was going to ask her to start his final surgery, but his question when he asked it was completely unexpected.
‘Would you collect Summer for me?’
‘What?’ Was he crazy? Surely he was kidding. ‘I’ve never met your daughter,’ she retorted, but even in her flustered state she realised there was something he hadn’t considered. ‘I doubt the school would send her home with a complete stranger. Why don’t you go and I’ll start the last case?’
‘The last case is a breast lift.’
Abi knew that, she was supposed to assist for that surgery too.
‘How many of those have you done?’ he asked, and judging by his tone she knew he already knew the answer.
Exactly none. She stared at Damien and her silence was all the answer he needed.
‘That’s what I thought. I need to finish off here. Would you please collect her?’
‘Why doesn’t Summer’s mother pick her up?’
‘That’s a good question,’ he replied with a sigh. ‘She was supposed to but apparently she is on her way to New York.’
Apparently? ‘New York? Didn’t you know?’ Had it just slipped his mind that his wife was away and he was supposed to be picking up his daughter? Was it something he forgot on a regular basis and now he was trying to make it her problem?
Abi didn’t think so. It didn’t seem to fit with his character and he seemed to be genuinely upset and to be struggling for solutions. She believed this had come out of the blue for him too.
Damien shook his head. ‘Brooke told the school that she told me I would have to make arrangements but I haven’t heard from her. This is the third time she has done this.’
‘What did you do the other times?’ she asked, as the anaesthetist began to reverse the anaesthetic.
‘Once I collected her and another time she went home with a friend. But school finished forty-five minutes ago so those mothers would have left, and I don’t have any of their numbers. Please, Abi, I wouldn’t ask you if I had any other options. My daughter is five years old. You remember being five, don’t you? I don’t want her to feel abandoned.’
That word cut Abi to the core. Abandoned was the one word to use if he wanted her sympathy and cooperation. But he couldn’t have known that. That would be impossible. It had just been a comment. But of course she remembered being five.
She also remembered having no one to pick her up. Day after day she would get herself home from school. On a good day it had been because her mother had been working, but on a bad day her mother would be passed out on the sofa, hungover or drunk.
Abi had had no one to rely on when she’d been five or seven or nine. She’d had no one until she’d joined the army at seventeen and had gone to medical school. She’d had no one really until she’d met Mark and even then she’d still ended up alone. There had never been anyone she could rely on. She knew exactly what Damien was talking about.
She started to cave in. ‘I’d do it but I really don’t think the school would let me.’
Damien had an answer for that. ‘I’ll ring them and I’ll get Freya to email your staff ID photo to the office. You’ll just have to show some ID when you get there. Please? I don’t know what else to do. The school is ten minutes from home. If you could just pick her up and I’ll collect her from your place as soon as I’m done here.’
He knew she lived in his neighbourhood, which would put her home close to the school. His plan made sense but Abi didn’t know if she could do it, although it was hard to refuse when he was looking so distressed and imploring her with his dark, dark eyes. If she acquiesced she knew it would be stressful. Could she handle it?
But she remembered what it felt like to be five years old and know that no one was coming for you, knowing that you were on your own. She’d hated that feeling and she knew she couldn’t put someone else in that position.
She sighed and said, ‘Let me make a call.’ She threw her gloves and mask into the bin as Damien signed the surgical notes. She was careful not to agree to his crazy plan just yet. She still didn’t know if she was capable of agreeing to his suggestion. She needed a second opinion. She needed to run it past her psychologist but that wasn’t a conversation she was prepared to have in public. She pushed open the door into the scrub room and went to fetch her cellphone.
She dialled the emergency number, the one Caroline had promised to always answer. Abi wasn’t sure what Caroline termed an emergency exactly but, for her, going unprepared into a new environment that was not only large but filled with people and knowing she would have to introduce herself to strangers without time for any research or reconnaissance definitely fell into the emergency assistance category. Abi had no idea how she was going to manage this and she needed Caroline to give her some contingencies to help her cope.
Caroline answered on the third ring and Abi explained the situation.
‘I assume,’ Caroline said, after listening to Abi’s predicament, ‘that you would actually like to do this favour for your boss?’
Would she? Part of her worried that if she agreed she would be setting a precedent and part of her also worried that she was letting him take advantage of her. But she could also remember what it was like to be left to find her own way home because her mother was incapable, again. Back then nobody had noticed if you weren’t collected from school, lots of kids made their own way home, but not many primary school children had that freedom now. They were bundled off to after-school care before anything untoward could happen to them. Abi remembered all too well that feeling of abandonment and if she could help by collecting Summer she would. It didn’t matter that Summer didn’t know her; she imagined just knowing her dad had sent someone would be better than being forgotten. Abi wasn’t doing this for Damien.
‘I’m not doing this for my boss, I’m doing it for his daughter,’ she explained. ‘She was expecting her mother to collect her and I don’t want her to feel that she’s not important.’ Abi knew that Caroline understood her reasons and where they stemmed from. They’d been over a lot of old, and new, ground together and Abi didn’t have many secrets left that Caroline hadn’t heard. Damien, however, was a new topic and not one they’d discussed, and neither did she intend to. Abi felt it was best, safest to leave him in the category of work colleague. There was no reason to go into any detail about him, he was of no consequence. ‘But I have never met Summer, I don’t know the school, I don’t know the staff and they don’t know me. It’s making me nervous.’
‘The school is close to your house, though?’ Caroline asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Why don’t you go home and collect Jonty?’ the psychologist suggested. ‘Take him with you. You’ll feel better and if Summer likes dogs it will break the ice with her too.’
Abi took a deep breath. She could do this. ‘That’s a good idea. Thanks.’
She felt better when she ended the call, far more confident. This might just work.
* * *
Abi pulled her 4x4 into the school car park. The building was long and low and stretched out before her, but fortunately the car park was virtually empty and she was able to put her car two places from the front entrance. She took a moment to survey her surroundings, not that she really expected any danger but it was a habit she had formed over the past six months and it was proving hard to shake. There was no one around and she could see nothing suspicious. She was in the middle of suburban LA, she reminded herself. It wasn’t Kabul and she was unlikely to encounter a suicide bomber here. But her paranoia still got the better of her and she reached across to her right and opened the passenger door, letting Jonty jump out first. He sniffed the air and once she was certain he was showing no signs of distress she took a deep breath and stepped out of the car.
She showed her ID at the office and was taken to the after-school-hours area, where about two dozen kids were engaged in various activities. She spotted Summer straight away. Three girls were jumping rope and one of the girls turning the rope was a miniature, female version of Damien. Dressed in pink she had her dark hair tied in two short pigtails that stuck out from the sides of her head but there was no mistaking that gene pool.
‘Summer,’ the school secretary called to her, getting her attention. ‘This is Dr Thompson. She works with your father and she’s come to collect you.’
‘Please, call me Abi. And this is Jonty.’
‘A dog! You brought a dog in.’ All three girls, Summer and her two friends, immediately surrounded Abi. Jonty lapped up the attention. Caroline’s advice to bring him had been spot on.
Abi took a closer look at Summer as the girls patted Jonty. She had the same oval face, the same dark eyes and the same smile as her father. She was as cute as a button.
She seemed to have no qualms going home with Abi. She skipped along beside Jonty and was far from the forlorn, lonely figure Abi had been expecting. If she knew her father had forgotten to collect her, it didn’t seem to bother her. What Abi saw was a confident, happy five-year-old who was very comfortable with strangers. Summer was not at all what she had envisaged.
Abi opened the car door and tilted the passenger seat forward. Jonty jumped in and Abi reset the seat and waited for Summer to climb up into the passenger seat, but she was standing still, her head tilted to one side, as she seemed to be considering something.
‘Are you going to get in?’ Abi asked her.
‘Are you sure you’re a doctor?’ Summer replied.
‘I’m positive. Why?’
‘You have a very old car.’
If Summer had visited The Hills and seen the cars driven by the doctors who worked there, Abi could understand the question. She didn’t have that kind of money. Not yet. While money did motivate her, she had grown up poor and didn’t plan on staying poor; she couldn’t, however, imagine spending a small fortune on a car. She had other priorities. She wanted to have the security of her own house and some investments, and a brand-new car was not on that list, but she wasn’t about to explain all that to a five-year-old.
‘It’s just me and Jonty,’ she said. ‘He’s very hairy and sometimes very dirty. I don’t have to worry about him messing up this car.’
‘Oh, okay. Does the top come off?’ she asked, as she climbed in and continued to chatter away, keeping up an almost one-sided conversation for the short drive to Abi’s house. Summer certainly wasn’t shy, but despite the fact that there didn’t appear to be any need for Abi to have left work to rush over here to rescue a child who didn’t need her she didn’t mind. Summer was delightful and it was nice to have some two-legged company.
But, of course, Abi hadn’t factored in the after-school snack. She had no food in her apartment other than an apple that was more than likely past its use-by date and a box of breakfast cereal. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d done a proper grocery shop. She was not all that conscious about food as she didn’t have a big appetite. Growing up, there had never been enough to eat in her house and therefore food had never been a focus. Before she’d joined the army she couldn’t ever recall eating three meals a day.
She decided the best course of action would be to take Summer over to her landlords. Irma always had something sweet to eat, usually fresh from her oven, and today was no exception. Abi let Irma fuss over them and feed them both, and once Summer’s hunger pains had been satisfied the little girl asked, with her mouth full of one of Irma’s cookies, ‘Can we take Jonty for a walk?’
‘Just a short one,’ Abi told her, ‘before it gets dark.’
Irma pressed a couple of extra cookies into Summer’s hand to take with her as Abi clipped Jonty’s lead on.
‘I’d like a dog,’ Summer announced, as they hit the footpath. ‘Or a little brother.’
‘A dog might be better,’ Abi replied. ‘Little brothers can be annoying.’
‘Do you have a brother?’ Summer asked.
Abi shook her head. ‘No, nor a sister.’
‘How do you know they’re annoying, then?’
Abi laughed. Summer made a fair point. ‘Good question. I’m just guessing, I suppose.’
‘It’ll have to be a dog. Mum doesn’t want any more children. She says she didn’t even want me.’
Abi had no idea what the right response to this statement was. Her experience with children was limited at best. Should she make a big deal of Summer’s comment? Tell her she must be mistaken? But she couldn’t do that, she didn’t know the facts. For all she knew, Summer could be speaking the truth. Why would she make something like that up? What child would think like that unless they’d heard those words uttered? Abi felt as though her heart was breaking. No one deserved to hear that from their mother. Abi’s mother had loved her, she just hadn’t been able to care for her properly. Her addictions and her circumstances had made that impossible, but what was Summer’s mother’s excuse? And what was Damien’s role in all this?
Abi could feel herself getting angry but she couldn’t lose her temper. That wasn’t going to help Summer.
She was completely out of her depth, maybe a change of topic would work best she thought as she launched into a discussion about what breed of dog would suit Summer best. Abi had no idea what Damien’s thoughts were on dog ownership but right now she didn’t care. If he got asked a few curly questions about getting a puppy, that wasn’t her problem. The way she saw it, he owed her a favour or two after today.
* * *
Summer was lying on the floor, playing with Jonty, when Abi heard Damien’s car pull into her driveway. She went out onto the first-floor deck to direct him upstairs. The moment she heard his voice Summer jumped up from the floor and threw herself into her father’s arms, and narrowly avoided crushing a bunch of irises that Damien clutched in his hands.
‘Daddy, Daddy, Abi has a dog. Come and see.’
‘Hang on one second, gorgeous girl, I need to put these down first.’
He lowered Summer to the floor and handed the irises to Abi. ‘These are for you,’ he said.
‘What for?’ Abi asked.
‘To say thank you.’
‘You didn’t need to do that.’
‘Yes, I did,’ he insisted. ‘You saved my bacon and I didn’t want you to think I didn’t appreciate it.’
Her apartment was small and Damien was standing awfully close to her. He smelt fresh and clean—he must have showered quickly after surgery—and his proximity was making her flustered. She was far too aware of him.
‘I’ll just put these into a vase,’ she said, inventing a reason to move away from him. She stepped backwards into her narrow galley kitchen that ran along the back wall of the living space and separated her bedroom from the rest of the apartment. She opened a couple of cupboards hopefully. She didn’t think she actually owned a vase. She’d never needed one, no one had ever given her flowers before. Her ex-boyfriend, Mark, had showered her with expensive jewellery that had never really suited her—she’d always felt it had been too sophisticated or mature for her—and looking now at this simple bunch of irises she knew which gift she preferred.
At the back of one of the cupboards she found an old china jug that she assumed belonged to Irma. That would do. She filled it with water, arranged the flowers in it and displayed them on the kitchen counter. The irises were a rich, deep blue with yellow centres and looked surprisingly cheery on the bench. She’d never put much store in the power of a bunch of beautiful flowers but that was because she’d never received any. Being given flowers was so much nicer than picking up a bunch at the weekend market for herself. It shouldn’t make any difference, especially given the circumstances, but Abi was touched by Damien’s gesture.
She swallowed hard to dislodge the lump that had formed in her throat as Damien pulled out one of the stools at her kitchen counter and took a seat. Abi stayed on the opposite side of the bench, a safe distance away.
‘Dad, can we have pizza for dinner?’ Summer climbed up onto the stool next to Damien and Abi was struck again by the strong family resemblance now that they were side by side.
‘I’ll pick one up on the way home.’
‘I want to go out for pizza and I want Abi and Jonty to come.’
‘Would you like to come with us?’ Damien asked her. ‘My shout.’
Abi shook her head. ‘No, thank you.’ She really wasn’t up to going out. She’d had enough stressful situations to cope with today and, while sharing a pizza with Damien and Summer sounded appealing, tackling another unknown and unsecured location didn’t.
‘Please come, Abi, please.’ Summer was begging but Abi couldn’t do it.
‘Sorry, you’ve probably already got plans,’ Damien said, misunderstanding her refusal of his invitation. ‘We’ve taken up enough of your time, we’ll get going. Summer, get your things and say goodbye, please.’
‘No, it’s not that,’ Abi said. She didn’t want to be alone. She knew the house was going to feel quiet and empty when they left. ‘I don’t want to leave Jonty,’ she told him. ‘What about if we got pizza delivered?’
‘Are you sure?’ Damien asked, as Summer jumped about excitedly, happy to have had her wish granted.
Abi nodded. ‘Positive.’
‘It’s still my shout,’ he said, as Summer returned to Jonty’s side and Abi pulled a delivery menu off the fridge.
She wasn’t about to argue and as she phoned their order through Damien added, ‘I’m not sure if I should be letting Summer get away with it. I’m sure she’s milking the fact that I didn’t pick her up from school. She’s playing on my guilt.’
‘Really?’ Abi wasn’t so sure. ‘She can manipulate you like that at her age?’
‘You’d better believe it. She knows exactly how to play me. I think she gets that from her mother. She’s an actress and Summer has definitely inherited the dramatic gene from her.’
‘She’s an actress?’
‘Yes. And quite a good one.’
‘Is that why she’s gone to New York?’ Presented with the opportunity, Abi couldn’t resist asking some questions but she busied herself looking for napkins and plates so that Damien hopefully didn’t feel as though he was being interrogated.
Damien was nodding. ‘She got called in for an audition for a television series and, as usual, she didn’t worry about any pre-existing commitments, just dropped everything and went.’
‘Have you heard from her?’
‘Not directly. There was a message on my phone, asking me to collect Summer, but of course I was in Theatre so I didn’t see it. She’s never understood that I can’t monitor my emails or even check my phone constantly throughout the day. Brooke exists in her own world and has never made an attempt to put herself in someone else’s shoes. This isn’t the first time she’s changed plans without consulting me, but her world is all about her and she refuses to consider others, even her own daughter.’
Abi felt her sympathy for Summer strengthen. She knew what it was like to have a mother who did not have her children as a priority. Whether it was because they couldn’t or wouldn’t cope wasn’t the point. Either way it left the children feeling neglected and unloved and that was no way for any child to grow up.
‘Did she say when she’d be back?’
‘No. She wouldn’t consider that I would need to know that.’
‘But what about Summer?’
‘Brooke will expect me to handle it.’
Abi found the whole situation incredible. It was obvious that Damien and Brooke had some issues with their channels of communication but that wasn’t really any of her business—unless Damien made it a habit to involve her. At this stage she couldn’t get involved but that didn’t stop her from wanting to know more about their situation. She knew she shouldn’t care but Summer was so sweet and Damien was so gorgeous and she had to admit she was wondering what sort of woman would catch his eye. If Summer’s mother was an actress she was probably beautiful. There must be something special about her if Damien was letting her get away with treating him so disrespectfully, but in Abi’s eyes that didn’t excuse her behaviour, particularly towards Summer. Damien said it wasn’t the first time Summer hadn’t been collected. Why did he let her get away with it?
Damien had only talked about ‘Summer’s mother’, he hadn’t mentioned a wife. Were they divorced? Never married? What was the state of their relationship? Now and previously. Abi’s curiosity was piqued but she couldn’t ask those questions.
‘You didn’t ask?’ Abi wanted to know more but Damien wasn’t answering. He was watching Summer and Abi guessed he didn’t want the conversation to be overheard.
‘Summer, would you like to brush Jonty while we wait for our pizza?’ she suggested, knowing that Summer wouldn’t refuse.
‘She’s been asking for a dog but I really don’t think we have the time to devote to one,’ Damien said as his daughter headed downstairs to the utility room to look for Jonty’s brush.
‘I know. She told me,’ Abi replied.
Damien shot a glance Abi’s way, a worried look in his dark eyes. ‘What else did she tell you?’
‘Actually, she did tell me one thing that I think you should hear.’ Abi moved around the kitchen bench to take a seat at the counter beside Damien. She needed to tell him what Summer had said but she felt she needed to be closer. What she was about to say felt a bit like spilling a secret and she couldn’t do it from across the kitchen bench. It needed to be said quietly, as if saying it loudly would make it real. Although Abi had a suspicion that what Summer had told her was true.
‘She told me that her mother didn’t want her.’ Even repeating Summer’s words made Abi’s heart ache and seeing Damien’s expression just made it worse. He looked sad and resigned but not surprised, and Abi realised that her suspicion was correct. Summer had been telling the truth.
Damien was nodding his head. ‘I know. Brooke never made any secret of the fact that her career was going to come before anything else and we weren’t planning on having kids when she fell pregnant, but I always hoped that she’d embrace motherhood once the baby arrived. But Brooke has never bonded with Summer. She enjoys dressing her up and taking her out but she seems to think of her as an accessory rather than her daughter. A child takes a lot of time and energy and Brooke prefers to spend that time and energy on herself. I knew she didn’t want children but I still can’t believe that she’s told Summer that.’
In Abi’s opinion Brooke sounded nothing like the kind of woman she imagined Damien to have chosen.
‘What if she gets this job in New York?’
Damien shrugged. ‘I’ll worry about that then.’
He tried to sound relaxed and unconcerned but the reality was the idea terrified him. If Brooke got the offer of a permanent gig on the other side of the country, how would that affect him and, more importantly, Summer?
But Abi voiced his concern. ‘What if she wants to take Summer?’
‘I can’t imagine she’d want to do that. She really doesn’t have one maternal bone in her body.’ That had become perfectly clear in the demise of their marriage. ‘She has no time for Summer and Summer is definitely not Brooke’s priority. Unfortunately she doesn’t even try to pretend otherwise. But I will always do what’s best for Summer and I would fight tooth and nail to keep her with me.’
Damien hated the fact that he’d been unable to make his marriage work. He hated being a failure, even though he knew that he and Brooke were both to blame. But it was irrelevant now. Marriage was not something he intended to try again. His focus was elsewhere. Summer was his number one priority, followed by his career.
* * *
Summer was yawning as Damien finished off the last slice of pizza. He wiped his hands on his napkin and said, ‘It’s getting late. We’d better go.’
Abi and Damien stood up from the kitchen bench at the same time. They were inches apart and Abi could feel the air crackling around them, surrounding them in a field of electricity.
She could feel herself being drawn in by his eyes, so dark it was impossible to fathom what was going on behind them. She could see the shadow of the day’s growth of his beard, dark on his jaw and chin, and along with the strong straight line of his nose there was something totally masculine about him. He looked powerful yet she’d seen how gentle and kind he was with Summer. He projected strength but also sensitivity and he was utterly gorgeous to boot.
She forgot all her rules, all her reasons why she was single and staying that way. Damien had captured her imagination and she wanted to know more about him. Where he had come from, why he had married, what had attracted him to his wife and what was the state of his relationship with her. She wanted to know what he tasted like. What he felt like and what it would feel like to have his lips brush across hers.
She could feel herself leaning towards him. Perhaps the field was magnetic, not electric, but it was almost too powerful to resist. Was it her imagination or was he leaning towards her too?
Abi felt pressure against her leg, a knock, a bump. She looked down. Summer had squeezed herself between them and wrapped herself around Damien’s leg, breaking the spell, releasing the tension that surrounded them.
Damien bent down, scooped his daughter into his arms and stepped back. He picked up her school bag and Abi stood at the top of the stairs and watched them leave. She had to force herself not to follow.
What would that achieve? Why would she want to?
She had to keep her distance. Yes, he was an attractive man, gorgeous even, and he was wonderful with Summer, but he was also a colleague and she couldn’t go there again. This time she knew his life was complicated. This time she would have no excuses. It sounded as though his relationship with Summer’s mother was extremely difficult and she had vowed that her next relationship would be simple, straightforward. Next time she was going in with her eyes open.
Next time! Next relationship! Why was she even thinking like that? She was in no hurry to go there again and when she was ready a man like Damien would not be on her list. A complicated man with baggage who she also had to work with—she couldn’t afford to even think about that.
