by Anthology
Turning, he stormed out the door and slammed it behind him.
~*~
Two days later Sam heard a knock at her door. She opened it to find Greg and Missy on her doorstep. Greg held a casserole dish in one hand and her coat in the other.
“You left this in my car the other night.” He held the coat out to her.
“I told you I wouldn’t accept such a gift.”
“You looked beautiful in it.”
She glared at him. “You made me wear it! I told you I—”
“Couldn’t accept a gift from me.”
“Don’t you dare twist my words. I didn’t say I wouldn’t accept a gift from you. I just won’t accept something so expensive. Money is too dear these days. You need it for Missy.”
Hearing her name, Missy looked up. “Isn’t the coat pretty, Sam? Daddy said it’s a gift from me and him to you.” She furrowed her brows. “Don’t you like it?”
Knowing she was cornered now, Samantha glared at Greg. “That’s pretty low, Giovanni.”
A smile lit his eyes. “Whatever works.”
He crossed to the living room and sat in the recliner. “I really like this chair. I’ll have to get one for myself.” He turned to face Sam. “Now, while I’m resting and Missy’s playing with your cat, go get ready. Missy wants to go to the movies. Disney’s The Three Caballeros is playing at a theatre downtown—a few blocks from The Battery.”
“And there’s a cartoon with Goofy in it, too, Daddy,” Missy piped up. “Don’t forget that. Something about swimming. That’s silly, isn’t it, Daddy? People can’t go swimming in the middle of December.”
“No, sweetheart, they can’t. But it will be fun watching it, won’t it?”
Missy giggled and turned back to play with Tigger.
“You can’t barge in my house and expect me to go out for the afternoon.”
He looked unconcerned. “You have other plans?”
“No, I don’t, but if you’ll recall, you told me you never wanted to see me again.”
“I haven’t forgotten the spiteful things I said. It’s all I’ve thought about. I’ve regretted every word.
“Hurry, Sam, or we’re going to be late for the movie,” Missy said. “Daddy told me it starts at 3:10. He said we had just enough time to get you to go with us, then hurry to the movie theatre.” She smiled up at Sam. “He said he’d buy us popcorn, too!”
“Yeah, Sam, hurry or we’re going to be late.” A mischievous twinkle lit his eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, Mr. Giovanni. You made your feelings quite clear the other day. I don’t have to be beat over the head with a stick to get the message.”
Greg glanced at Missy to make sure she wasn’t paying attention. “Sam, please, I was wrong. Mrs. Watson told me everything you did with Missy last week. I realize now you were only trying to help. To—”
“You changed your mind about me because your housekeeper told you what a fool you’d made of yourself? How nice. I would have preferred you trusted me.” She headed toward the kitchen. “I suggest you hurry, or you’re going to miss part of the cartoon.”
“Sam, I...”
“Goodbye, Greg. I have nothing further to say to you. Please leave.”
Taking Missy’s hand and leading her to the door above her protestations—“Why isn’t Sam coming with us, Daddy?”—Greg opened the front door, then slammed it closed.
He knelt on one knee to look Missy in the eyes. “Sam’s busy today, sweetheart. You and Daddy will have to go to the movies alone. Stay here just a minute. I have to tell Sam something.”
He strode to the kitchen, walked up beside her and pulled her into his arms. Ignoring her struggles, he threaded his fingers through her hair and drew her close. His mouth claimed hers as a warrior going into battle. He had no intention of granting her quarter.
Pulling away, he breathed heavily. “Don’t tell me you didn’t feel as much as I did in that kiss. I was wrong the other day. I’m sorry. I’ve brooded for two days about how to get you back. Now you can think on that. I’m not giving up. If you don’t want to make it easy for me, fine. But I will win you back.”
He crossed to the front door, stopped and returned to the kitchen. “And I want you back to work tomorrow, Miss Noelle. Santa needs you there. The kids need you. Don’t let them down.” He returned to Missy, held her hand and walked out the door.
~*~
Greg looked at the clock again. For the fourth time in the last ten minutes. Three-fifteen. Samantha was late. She’d never been late. Too conscientious an employee not to arrive on time. So where was she?
She might still be angry with him, but she wouldn’t let the children down. He’d counted on her sense of dedication when he ordered her back to work.
He jabbed his hands into his back pockets. This is ridiculous. I have a shopping center to run. Yet here I stand looking at a clock. Worrying about a woman I’ve only known since the week before Thanksgiving.
A woman he’d fallen madly in love with.
He’d lectured himself a million times over. She was too young for him. Too full of life. Too busy with other commitments to include him in her life. Too angry with him to give him a second chance.
None of that mattered. He wanted her. Needed her.
In the weeks since he’d met her, she’d turned his world upside down.
“Mr. Giovanni, there’s a call for you,” his secretary announced from the outer office.
“Not now, Mary. Take a message. I’m in the middle of something.” In the middle of waiting for a young girl just like some pimply teenage boy.
She rose from her desk and came to stand in his doorway. “It’s St. Martin’s Hospital, sir. The emergency room.”
Greg grabbed for the phone. Could barely breathe as he barked out, “Giovanni.”
Please, God, don’t let it be Missy!
“Sir, this is the emergency room at St. Martin’s hospital. We have a young woman here who’s been in an automobile accident. We can’t find any contact information in her purse except your name and number. I’m sorry to bother you, but—”
“I’m on my way. Don’t let her leave.”
“She can’t, sir.”
Greg grabbed his stomach—his lunch threatening to return. “Oh, my God, is she dead?”
“No, sir, but I need to find a contact number for her.”
“Then I’m on my way. I’m her contact.”
He didn’t have to ask who it was. His gut told him.
Sam!
His name and number had probably been in her purse from when he’d given her directions to his home the first time Missy invited her for dinner.
The day his life had been turned topsy-turvy. The day he’d fallen in love with Sam. As he ran out the office door, he called to his secretary. “Sam’s been injured. Tell Santa. She’s in the hospital. And call Mrs. Watson. I don’t know when I’ll be home. I may need her to stay over with Missy. Tell her if she can’t, I need my mother to pick her up.”
He revved his car engine, put it in gear and squealed out of his reserved parking space.
Please, God, let her be all right! I didn’t mean what I said the other day. She was right and I was wrong. She wouldn't listen to me. Please let her live so I can tell her how sorry I am.
Please let her live so I can—a sob escaped his lips—tell her I love her.
Reaching the hospital, there was no parking space at the emergency room other than the ten minute drop off. He didn’t care. Let them give him a ticket. Let them give him a dozen citations. He had to see Sam. Had to know she was alive.
He ran inside. Stopped briefly at the Triage desk. “Samantha Noelle, please.”
“Are you—”
Years of executive training kicked in. They weren’t going to keep him out. Weren’t going to not let him see her. “Family? Yes, I am. Where is she?” He shot the triage nurse a look that said he wanted an answer now.
“Room seven.” She motioned toward the door and
he rushed inside.
Going down the long corridor, Greg saw the numbers over each room. When he reached seven, he pushed the door open and saw her lying on the narrow bed. Her face was pale, almost as white as the sheet covering her. The top of her head was wrapped in gauze, her right cheek had a deep scratch on it, and her arm was in a cast. Under the sheet she wore a hideous hospital gown, and on the chair beside the bed lay a green elf costume.
She’d been coming back to work after all.
He grabbed the doorjamb. Had to draw his breath to keep from passing out. She was asleep, but she was alive.
A nurse came up behind him. “You’re here for Miss Noelle?”
“Yes, is she all right?”
“We don’t know yet. The doctor is still running tests. She hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”
“She’s unconscious? She’s not asleep?”
“No, sir, she’s not asleep. I’m sorry.”
Greg thudded down onto the chair.
“I’ll tell the doctor you’re here. Maybe he can answer some of your questions.”
She started to head back into the hallway.
“Wait. Do you know what happened?”
“All I know is what the attendants told us. Whoever hit her car said he was heading to an office Christmas party. Unfortunately, it appeared he’d already had a head start on his drinking.”
“Was he injured?”
“No, sir. Being drunk probably saved him. The men who brought Miss Noelle in said both vehicles were beyond repair.”
Greg nodded.
Why was life always so unfair? He’d thought his heart had been torn out the day Amanda walked out on him. That pain didn’t hold a candle to what he felt now.
Samantha had brought him back to life. Had loved him. Loved his daughter.
And he’d thrown it in her face.
Not because he didn’t want her. Because he wanted her too much. Was afraid of loving anyone that much.
Missy adored her. Children and animals instinctively recognized the good in people. Only adults were idiots. At least he was. He’d almost thrown away the best thing to ever happen in his life—other than having Missy.
He’d never do that again. If she woke up—when she woke up—he’d ask her to forgive him. Ask her to take him back. Ask her to marry him.
He moved his chair closer to the bed so he could hold her hand.
“Sam, wake up, sweetheart. It’s Greg.” He felt like a fool. Could she hear him? He’d heard somewhere that people in a coma could hear people talking to them. He didn’t know if that was really true, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
“Come on, now. You have to wake up so we can go home to Missy. She’s waiting for you. Needs you to help her with her therapy. Wants you to take her ice skating again. I’ve decided to let her have that surgery the doctor’s been talking about. The one you yelled at me the other day about her having. You were right, you know. Yeah, you heard that correctly. I’m admitting I was wrong. Don’t do that lightly. You told me how stubborn men were. Guess you’re right about that, too. You were right about a lot of things. But I need you to wake up now.”
“Sir?”
A man—probably the doctor—stood in the doorway.
Greg stood and offered his hand. “Giovanni. Greg Giovanni. You’re her doctor?”
“For the time being, yes.”
“What does that mean?”
“Once she’s stabilized, we’ll have an ambulance transfer her to our county hospital.”
“Why the hell would you move her?”
“I’m afraid the young lady has no visible means to pay us. We’ve gotten her past the first trauma.”
Greg’s eyes narrowed. Voice low, he took a step toward the physician. “You’re telling me you’re going to move my fiancée because you think she has no money?”
“We could find no proof of it on her, sir. It’s not something I want to do, but the hospital can’t absorb costs like this. I’m afraid we—”
With an effort not to lose his temper, Greg stepped back toward the bed. Picked up Samantha’s hand and cradled it in both of his. He looked at the doctor, then dismissed him as not being worthy of his attention.
“I suggest you do everything you can to save this young woman if you don’t want yourself and this hospital sued for every cent you and it have. Her bill will be paid. If you require payment now, give me an amount and I’ll write a bank check.”
“Sir, you don’t understand. The cost could be enormous.”
Greg didn’t bother to hide his look of disdain. “Hospital bills are always outrageous. No one should be charged what such facilities bill people. That’s neither here nor there.”
He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his bank checks. “You want money? How much?”
“But, sir—”
“Let’s don’t waste time on trivialities. I own the Embassy Shopping Center. Have numerous other holdings. I have enough money to buy and sell this hospital ten times over if I wanted to.” He stopped, looked at Samantha. Rubbed his fingertips back and forth over his forehead to ease his headache. “I don’t want to do that, don’t want to threaten you, but I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure she’s not moved.”
Looking uncomfortable, the doctor said, “Let me have someone from Admissions come see you.”
“Yes.” Greg flicked his eyelashes at him in dismissal and turned away. “Do that.”
So angry his entire body shook, Greg sat once again. He couldn’t let Samantha feel how upset he was. She had to concentrate her energy on getting well. Couldn’t know he wanted to wring everyone’s necks right now. Probably just like she’d felt about him when they’d argued. He’d been as stubborn and unyielding as the hospital was being now. And their argument had been over something much more important than mere money. It had been over his daughter.
How foolish he’d been. Had been foolish for years. If he’d done what the doctors said years ago—what Samantha had done with her this week—Missy would probably be walking fine now. Instead, he’d coddled her. Hadn’t wanted to put her through more pain. When in fact, he’d done just that. If he’d let her have the surgery and pushed her to walk, she might not still have the side effects of the painful break. Only time would see if that was true or not, but he had to take that chance for Missy. Had to quit thinking of himself.
It was time to put the past behind him. Amanda was gone. He had a future to look forward to now—if he hadn’t blown it with Sam.
No, he wouldn’t think like that. He wouldn’t let her walk away from him. He’d make things right no matter what he had to do.
If only there was something he could do. Instead, he felt hopeless. Useless. He couldn’t do anything but sit beside Sam and hold her hand. He wanted to hold all of her. Hold her and tell her he loved her. But the hospital would frown on…
Well, damn! He could care less what the hospital thought. After all, wasn’t he going to pay her bill? If they kept giving him grief, maybe he’d buy the hospital after all.
He heard a sound at the door. Turned and saw Joe standing there. Still in his Santa costume, the man’s eyes looked wide with shock.
“Your assistant told me about the accident. I got here as quickly as I could.”
Greg nodded. “I’m glad you’re here. Help me move her.”
Joe came closer to the bed.
“Can you lift Sam up while I move the pillows against the headboard? Those metal rungs would dig into my back.” Joe’s brows dipped in a frown, but he did as Greg asked without questions.
As soon as Joe had Sam in his arms, Greg slid onto the bed.
Joe took great pains not to move her IV, carefully lifted Sam onto Greg’s lap. Greg cradled her head against his chest.
Gently stroking her arm, her back, he kept talking to her.
Joe sat in the hard plastic chair, ran his hand through his already disheveled hair. “What happened?”
“I don’t know much. Apparently some drunk got behind
the wheel of a car. His vehicle crashed into Sam’s.”
Tears filled the elderly man’s eyes. Greg imagined he willed them not to fall.
“She has to get well, Giovanni. She means a great deal to me.”
Greg nodded. “I understand. She loves you, too, Joe.”
“I called her cousin in Chicago. Didn’t get to talk directly to her since she doesn’t have a phone of her own, but I left a message at some general store. The man who answered said he’d be sure to tell her. Claimed he was a close friend.”
When nurses or orderlies came and told him he couldn’t sit on the bed, Greg’s icy stare sent them on their way.
The Admissions clerk came in while he was holding Sam. “Hold the clipboard for me so I can sign your paperwork.”
“You don’t wish to read it over, sir?”
“No. The only thing that matters is Sam.”
Joe furrowed his brow. “How can a store manager afford that?”
“I’m not just Nickel’s manager, Joe. I own the entire shopping center. My family owns upscale centers across the country.”
Joe’s eyes widened. “You’re that Giovanni? The one with connections in Chicago?”
When Greg only nodded, Joe laughed. “Sam is going to be so upset with you when she wakes up. She was angry about you buying her that coat. She’s one stubborn woman. Been determined to pay her own way about everything—then goes and falls in love with a millionaire.”
“If she’d known, she wouldn’t have gone out with me.”
Joe corrected, “What you mean is...if she’d known, you wouldn’t know if she loved you for yourself or for your money.”
Greg briefly lowered his eyes, his only concession at agreement.
“I’ll get back to the store now. Let everyone know Sam is going to be fine.” Though he said it as a statement, Greg knew it held a question.
“She’ll be fine, Joe. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Good, I’ll call her cousin again. Don’t want her worrying needlessly. I have to go home to feed my dogs after work—I have four Goldens that will be starving—but I’ll come back after that to see how she’s doing.” With a nod and a final backward glance, Joe left the room.