Читать книгу It's Only You - Sheryl Lister - Страница 13
ОглавлениеTwo seconds after Simona entered the house, Eve rushed across the room and grabbed her in a hug.
“Girl, I was worried out of my mind. It’s going on one o’clock. I was about to call you again. What happened?” Eve released her and frowned.
Simona walked over to the couch and lowered her weary body down. “I was basically run over by one of the hospital volunteers pushing a coffee cart.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m okay. Just a little shaken, and bruised where the cart hit my hip.”
Eve sat next to Simona. “If that’s all, what took you so long to get home?”
“I had to help Donovan. He got hurt.”
Eve lifted an eyebrow. “Donovan?”
“Yeah. He’s the guy who came to my rescue. I feel so bad because he got cut and burned in the process.”
Eve grasped her hand. “Is he hurt bad?”
Simona shook her head. “He had about a three-inch gash on his forearm that had to be stitched up, and the burn doesn’t look like it’ll be too bad, so he’s okay, thank God. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he’d been hurt seriously. The crazy thing is, even though he was still bleeding and in obvious pain, he was more concerned about having a doctor check me out.”
“Sounds like a real-life knight in shining armor.”
“He was—though I really wish he’d had the armor on,” she said absently. Memories of being held in his strong arms replayed in her mind. She should have at least gotten his phone number...to make good on her offer to replace his shirt, of course. His information was in the system, so she could get it that way. But...
A touch on her hand broke into her musings.
“Simona,” Eve called.
“I’m sorry. Did you say something?”
Eve smiled. “Mmm-hmm. I was asking about your knight, and you drifted off into fairy tale land. He must have been something.”
Fine as all get out, rock hard body, and seemingly an all-around good guy—yep, he was something.
Eve laughed.
“What?”
“You’re daydreaming again. What does he look like?”
“A little over six feet, handsome, muscles—”
“In other words, fine as hell.”
Simona smiled and nodded. “Yes, he is.” She pushed to her feet. “I’m wiped out. I need to hit the shower and go to bed. Did you have any problems tonight?”
Eve stood. “Not a one. She’s an angel. Woke up an hour ago for a few minutes but went right back to sleep.” She went over to the dining room table and gathered up her belongings. “I’ll see you later.”
Simona walked her neighbor to the door and waited until Eve went inside her house before closing her own door. Simona picked up the monitor off the table, turned off the lights and went down the short hallway to the first bedroom. A nightlight illuminated the baby lying in her crib. Simona stood staring at her niece’s small form for several minutes, the covers rising and falling in rhythm as she slept.
Yasmine had been born two months prematurely to Simona’s twenty-two-year-old younger sister—her namesake—who had died in childbirth as a result of injuries she’d sustained in a car accident. Although they were able to save the baby, her sister and her sister’s fiancé hadn’t been as fortunate. Simona still couldn’t believe that her sister was gone, but her niece reminded her of that fact daily. Yasmine had spent six weeks in the NICU after birth and was on a ventilator for the first two. So far, there hadn’t been any more problems, but Simona kept a close watch on her.
Simona’s grandmother had wanted to raise Yasmine, but taking care of a small baby was too much for Nana, so Simona had driven to Oakland two months ago and brought the baby back to LA. Fortunately, after Simona explained her dilemma, Mrs. Battle, the charge nurse, allowed her to change her schedule to four eight-hour days a week.
Simona stood a few minutes longer, smiling at the miniature version of her sister as sadness rose up once again. Seven years Yasmine’s senior, Simona had been close with her baby sister, and she missed Yasmine’s infectious laughter and zeal for life. Looking down at her sleeping niece, Simona vowed to raise the little girl with all the love in her heart, just as Yasmine would have done. She leaned down and brushed a soft kiss on her eleven-month-old niece’s forehead, checked the baby monitor to make sure it was on and continued to her bedroom.
Thirty minutes later, freshly showered, Simona pulled back the bed covers, laid her worn-out body down and groaned. She was exhausted, and with any luck, she’d be able to get a few hours of sleep before Yasmine woke up.
Automatically, her mind went back to Donovan. His hands on her had created sensations she hadn’t felt in a long time, and she wished she could have stayed in his arms all night. Her eyes snapped open. Where had that thought come from? She’d spent the past year purposely staying away from men, and now she lay fantasizing about one.
“You’re just exhausted, Simona,” she mumbled to herself. Given the circumstances, it was natural to have these types of feelings, she assured herself. She closed her eyes again, but Donovan’s handsome face wouldn’t leave her. It took a while, but she finally drifted off.
* * *
Time seemed to accelerate, and before she knew it, Simona was walking across the hospital parking lot Tuesday to start her shift. Dealing with the fast pace of an emergency room at only twenty-nine, Simona thought she had good endurance. But adjusting to Yasmine’s routine and working four days a week was proving to be more of a challenge than she’d envisioned.
The first few hours went by in a blur, and she was more than ready to sit for a minute when her lunch break came around. Yet no matter how tired she felt, somehow Donovan always worked his way into her psyche. Would she ever see him again? She told herself she only wanted to see him to make sure he was okay, but knew she lied. His concern for her well-being had gone far beyond the call of duty and was truly touching. While eating, her thoughts strayed to Donovan. Again. As much as she wanted to call him, she didn’t feel right about getting his information from the hospital records. So she would have to be content with the memory of her knight.
* * *
“Thanks. I’ll have the contract out to you by the beginning of next week.” Donovan hung up, finished making notes on the contract sheet and called in his secretary. It was only Tuesday, and the week promised to be a long one.
“Yes, Donovan.”
He glanced up from the papers. “Monique, I just confirmed the two dates for Monte at the Catalina Island JazzTrax Festival in October and the Nokia Theater in November.” He handed her the papers. “Can you type up the contracts and have them ready for Brad by tomorrow?”
She accepted the sheets and handed him a telephone message. “Sure. Mrs. Lake from the Artistic Inspirations Foundation called again. She wanted to confirm whether Monte would still be conducting the vocal and piano workshops at the upcoming art camp. I told her we’d call her back because I didn’t know if he’d be available since the baby came early.”
The nonprofit foundation worked tirelessly to promote the importance of music and the arts in schools and the community. Thanks to generous donations, every summer they hosted a two-week day camp for students in grades four through twelve to experience the arts. At the end of the two weeks, the foundation put on an art show and concert.
“Okay. I’ll check with him and call her back. Thanks.”
“If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to head out.”
He glanced up at the wall clock to see it was already past five. “No. Have a good evening.”
“You, too. See you in the morning.”
Donovan followed her out to the hallway but went in the opposite direction, toward Terrence’s office. He found Terrence’s secretary standing at the file cabinet. “Hey, Mrs. Lewis. I’m sorry I didn’t get over here sooner.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. I know you’ve got your hands full. Have you talked to Monte today?”
“No. I haven’t talked to him since last Friday at the hospital.” He’d hit the ground running yesterday and barely had time to show her the pictures of Nadia.
“Well, I know you’ll be dropping by his home sometime this week, so can you take this with you?” She rounded her desk, pulled an envelope from a drawer and handed it to him. “Tell him and Janae I said congratulations.”
“Okay. Is there anything I need to know or anything that has come up?”
“Audrey stopped by earlier and took care of a few things, but other than that, no.”
He nodded. “I won’t keep you, then. See you—”
“What happened to your arm?” she asked, cutting him off.
Donovan followed her gaze to his left arm. He had forgotten that he’d rolled his sleeves up. “Oh, it’s nothing.”
She frowned. “Donovan Wright, nothing wouldn’t require stitches.” She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him, waiting.
Her tone, as well as the accompanying look, had him spilling his guts about the incident in the hospital hallway.
“Oh, my word! You were lucky. Burns can be nasty. Is the young lady all right?”
“I noticed her rubbing her hip where the cart hit her, but she said she was fine.”
“Thank goodness. I know she’s grateful you were there. Have you checked on her since then?”
He hadn’t and wanted to kick himself for not getting her phone number. “No, but I will. I know it’s quitting time for you. I’ll walk you out,” he said, changing the subject.
She smiled. “Your parents raised such a nice young man. I know they’re proud of you.”
He chuckled. “Thanks. I’ll remind them of that the next time I talk to them. They’ll be glad to know all their hard work didn’t go to waste.”
Donovan walked Mrs. Lewis to her car, then came back upstairs to call Terrence.
“What’s up, D?” Terrence said when he answered.
“Hey. How’s the family?”
“My girls are good. Sometimes I still can’t believe it. I just want to hold Nadia all day, but Janae makes me put her down,” he grumbled.
He chuckled. “I take it she’s spoiled already.”
“I can’t help it. She grabbed my heart the moment she was born.”
A flash of memories crossed Donovan’s mind. “Mine, too,” he murmured. “Anyway, the reason I’m calling is Mrs. Lake wants to know if you’re still going to donate your time to the foundation’s art camp this year. It’s the first two weeks in August, three weeks away.”
“Definitely. I love doing the camp. Janae’s parents will be here, and Karen and Damian are planning to come down, as well. We’ll probably do a little barbecue or something the first weekend in August, so don’t plan anything. There’s nothing on the calendar, is there?”
“Other than Sheila’s concert in two weeks, no. August will be a little less busy, and I’m having Joy and Nigel travel with Kaleidoscope.”
“Good. By the way, you should bring a date to the barbecue. My grandmother mentioned trying to fix you up with the niece of one of her yoga classmates.”
Donovan groaned. “Aw, man. I know. She’s worse than my mom.”
Terrence laughed. “I tried to warn you about calling her Grandma, but you wouldn’t listen. So should I invite the woman?”
“Hell, no. I can get my own date. Besides, you’re the last person who needs to be giving anybody dating advice. If I recall correctly, I’m the one who helped you when you almost lost Janae.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I owe you, man. Janae is my life.”
“I know. Tell Janae hello, and kiss my goddaughter for me. I’ll be by tomorrow or the next day.”
“I will. Later.”
Donovan disconnected and leaned back in his chair. Once again, memories of his failed relationship filled his head. He’d immersed himself in work to bury the hurt. But seeing how happy Terrence was had him contemplating trying again. Simona’s face floated through his mind. He glanced up at the clock and made the decision to be there when she got off work in forty-five minutes. He stood, packed up and headed to the parking garage.
The normally thirty-minute drive took almost an hour due to traffic, and by the time he parked and strode across the hospital lot he was hoping he hadn’t missed her.
A woman looked up as he approached the emergency room front desk. “Hello.” She held out a clipboard. “Just fill out the information and bring it up when you’re finished. We’ll get you back as soon as we can.”
“I’m not here to be seen. I was looking for Simona Andrews.”
Her brow lifted. “Simona?”
“Yes. She’s a nurse. Is she still here?”
The woman gave him the once-over then picked up the phone. She spoke quietly into the headset, nodded and hung up. “She’s still here. Have a seat, and she’ll be out shortly.”
“Thank you.” Donovan took a chair across the room. There were only a few people in the waiting area—a mother pacing while holding a small baby, an elderly couple and a man holding an ice pack against his face. He picked up a sports magazine off the table and flipped through it.
Some time later, the doors swung open and he saw Simona searching the room. Their eyes locked, and hers widened for a second before her brows knit in confusion. He tossed the magazine on the table, stood and walked to meet her halfway.
“Donovan,” she said with surprise. “Are you okay? Is something wrong with your arm?”
“No, there’s nothing wrong, Simona. It’s healing nicely.”
“Oh. Then why are you here?”
“I wanted to check on you, to make sure you were okay.”
“That’s really sweet of you, but I’m fine.”
“Good. Are you still getting off now?”
“Yes.”
“Would you like to go out to dinner?”
“Dinner?”
“Yeah. You know, that meal that usually follows lunch.”
She smiled. “I know what dinner is, Mr. Wright.”
“So...yes, no?”
“Well, I...um...I...”
He leaned closer. “You did say to let you know if I needed anything, remember?”
“I remember, but this sounds a bit like blackmail,” Simona said with a laugh.
Donovan shrugged. “Hey, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do sometimes. And if it gets you to say yes to dinner, then it’s all good. Well...” he hedged.
She seemed to consider his offer for a moment, then nodded. “All right, but we can’t go anywhere fancy. I don’t have anything except these scrubs.”
“No problem. You can choose the place.” He was just glad she had agreed.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She turned and went back through the doors.
“Take your time.” He stared after her and couldn’t stop the smile curving his mouth. Although she was cautious, he sensed a spark there.
Donovan planned to discover everything he could about Simona Andrews, and if he had anything to say about it, tonight’s date would be the first of many.