Lessons in Love

by Kathryn R. Blake

  "Relax, dear. The doctor will see you shortly."

  No. They'd wrapped her wrists in leather. They were going to…. She screamed.

  "What the…? What's going on?"

  She recognized the voice. He would help, so she cried out again and flailed her hands. "Hurt. Off."

  "I don't know, she—"

  Firm fingers gripped her shoulders.

  "Settle down. I'll get the restraints off. Just stop screaming."

  "I don't think you should do that, Mr. Peterson. The doctor said—"

  "Screw the doctor. I'll stay with her, and having her secured to the bed is not worth a panic attack. So, they're coming off."

  The moment her right hand was freed Pam clutched gratefully at the arm stretched across her waist to free her other wrist.

  "Better." She tried to pull her left arm back, but the nurse held it. "Let go of me."

  "Quiet." Pam glanced back at the man who commanded her, but she barely recognized the speaker attached to the voice.

  "She bent the needle in her struggles. I need to stop the bleeding and get another hypodermic."

  "I'll hold the gauze. You get a new needle."

  Pam didn't want that. "No."

  Dark-brown eyes focused intently on her face. "Did you hear me tell you to be quiet?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Then I suggest you obey because I am so pissed at you, the thought of flipping you over and applying my hand to your backside a hundred times is almost too tempting to ignore."

  Pam frowned but held still beneath his pressing fingers. More awake, she glanced about her in confusion.

  "Where am I?"

  This time, he rewarded her with a full scowl. "Did I give you permission to speak?"

  She huffed. He was being grouchy again. "I'm not permitted to ask questions?"

  "No. Now, quiet. I don't want to hear another peep out of you until I say otherwise."

  The woman returned, but when she grasped Pam's arm again, Pam jerked it back. Women in white did things with needles and pins, and she didn't want one touching her.

  "Pam…." A silky throated warning.

  "No. I don't want her near me."

  "Too bad. Hold still."

  "No!" Pam started to turn away from the woman when her boss tossed back the covers, flipped her over on her stomach, and gave her bared bottom three sharp smacks.

  "Ow!" She kicked once in protest. But he was already turning her onto her back again.

  "Enough. Unless you want several more of those, you'd best lie very still and let the nurse take your blood."

  "Sir. She's still an awfully sick young woman. You shouldn't…."

  "She's being a brat, which I will not tolerate, no matter how ill she is."

  Her bottom tingled, but he hadn't hurt her. All the same, Pam rewarded him with a disapproving frown, which morphed into a scowl. His dark eyes had black smudges beneath them, and his finger combed hair and stubble-strewn cheeks were not at all consistent with his usually pristine and sharply attired grooming habits.

  Absorbed in her observation, Pam barely felt the needle she protested so vehemently.

  "There. That's all there is to it," the woman assured, giving Pam's arm a gentle pat. "May I trust you, Mr. Peterson, not to abuse our patient any further?"

  "Only if she behaves herself," he answered, shirtsleeves rolled up, arms crossed, and an eyebrow arched as he glared down at Pam in an open challenge.

  Though the grouchy-looking man sought to intimidate her with his threatening stance, Pam was so pleased to see him again that she giggled then grabbed her head while the nurse gaped at her with astonishment.

  "Ooh. My head hurts, my throat's sore, and I'm thirsty."

  "Go on," he said to the other woman. "I'll try to restrain my abusive tendencies while I see to her needs. But ask the doctor to get here as soon as he can." He pushed the adjustment control and lifted Pam into a sitting position then held a cup with a straw to her lips. "Drink."

  Pam sucked in the cool liquid as a small furrow developed between his brows. When the soreness of her throat eased and her thirst was slaked, she pressed back against her pillow.

  "Thank you."

  He placed the back of his hand to her cheeks. "You're a bit warm. You weren't running a fever earlier, but I suppose that could change as your system rids itself of the toxins."

  Toxins? What toxins? "Where am I?" she asked again.

  "County General. I had Paul call 911 then drag the super out of bed to let him, the police, and the paramedics into your apartment. You were unconscious."

  "Last night?"

  "Thursday night. This is Saturday."

  Pam winced and drew her hand up to her forehead, so he pushed a button on her bed.

  "Yes?" A voice asked over the speaker.

  "Miss Weston has a headache. Is she allowed any pain relief?"

  "Tylenol, if she needs it."

  "She needs it."

  "Very well. I'll be right in."

  The nurse came in with water and two pills, which Pam took gratefully. Moments later, a silver-haired man in a white coat burst in with a broad smile.

  "Well, it would seem we're doing much better today. I'm Dr. Mitchell," he announced, thrusting his hand out to shake hers. When she obliged, he gave a single nod. "Can you tell me how you feel?"

  Pam went through the physician's litany of questions, receiving an occasional growl of warning when her replies ventured into sarcasm. Then, the doctor said something that got her full attention.

  "Mr. Peterson was legally appointed as your emergency guardian through your recovery, though you will need to meet regularly with your parole officer as well."

  Pam's gaze switched back and forth between the two men. "Why? I mean, I'm of age. I don't require a guardian."

  The doctor shrugged. "I'm afraid the court does not agree with you on that. To avoid having you sent to an institution for observation, Mr. Peterson applied for an emergency guardianship so he could legally oversee your care. Given your condition and past history, the judge agreed. Should you opt to contest Mr. Peterson's supervision, you will most likely be ordered into a mental hospital for clinical evaluation. If they determine you broke parole with your attempted suicide, you could possibly return to prison to finish your sentence."

  Yikes. "I didn't attempt suicide," she insisted.

  "Unfortunately, the evidence suggests otherwise, though by requesting you be placed under his care, in essence, your employer, Mr. Peterson, has vouched for your safety. I see your restraints were removed."

  "I undid them."

  "I'm not sure you're qualified to make that decision, Mr. Peterson. You do understand that Miss Weston needs to be cleared by a psychiatrist before she can be released into your custody?"

  "Yes, that requirement was made eminently plain to me."

  "Good. Have you any questions for me, Miss Weston?"

  She glanced at Rob then back at Dr. Mitchell. "When can I leave?"

  "Eager to be gone from here, eh? I'm afraid that's not up to me alone. Though you're responsive and lucid this morning, we need to wait for the results of your blood tests to make sure your levels are all in the normal range. Once we're assured your counts are satisfactory, you'll talk with a psychiatrist. If he deems you fit to leave, you should be able to go home as soon as the paperwork is completed."

  "My home?"

  "No," Rob answered, his expression resolved. "You'll be staying with me for a few weeks until we're sure there's no chance of a relapse."

  "Weeks? Relapse? I don't understand."

  "I'll let you discuss those particulars with Mr. Peterson. In the meantime, you're under no dietary restrictions, so you may eat whatever pleases you from the menu."

  She attempted to smile at Dr. Mitchell, but her attention remained focused on Rob, who didn't look at all pleased to have a long-term house guest thrust upon him.

  When the doctor left, Pam stared at her clenched hands. "Thank you for interceding. However, you nee
dn't stay here and babysit me. I'm sure I'll be—"

  "Unfortunately, it would seem I do, unless you'd rather be institutionalized or go back to prison. I'd say you could remain under your mother's care instead, but no one has been able to reach her."

  Swallowing, she shook her head. She didn't consider her mother an option, but this wasn't how she wanted Rob to see her, either. "My parole officer will vouch…."

  "Legally, you're still a risk to yourself, Pam. According to Paul you drank nearly a full bottle of wine and swallowed half a vial of sleeping pills."

  "It was an accident. I was upset, and you wanted me to sleep, so I guess I lost count."

  "Well, unfortunately, losing count like that means you cannot be left on your own. So, until it's determined you won't attempt another miscount, I am your guardian."

  Pam's next question was aborted by a knock at the door, and Adam White entered with Krista behind him. "May we come in?"

  Rob glanced down at Pam. "I'll let Adam and Krista entertain you while I take advantage of their company to grab a shower and a shave."

  Unsure what to say, Pam merely gave a nod, so Rob snatched the change of clothes he'd left draped over a chair and slipped into her private bathroom.

  Krista rushed forward to give Pam a hug. "How are you?"

  Pam shrugged. "A little wrung out, I guess. I'm still not sure."

  Adam remained standing at the door, his smile strained.

  Giving Pam's shoulder a light slap, Krista murmured, "You scared the shit out of me. What did you think you were doing?"

  "I was drinking wine to help me sleep and it seems I took too many pills. It's all kind of fuzzy."

  "Do you remember calling Rob?"

  "He called me earlier in the evening and read me the riot act."

  "Yeah, because you took the Koppler file home after he'd ordered you to rest. Adam got the gist of that after he told Rob he couldn't find the folder at your desk."

  Pam winced and gazed at Adam. "I apologize. I wasn't thinking properly."

  Adam waved his hand. "I'm sure you two want to chat. I'll go down to the cafeteria—"

  "You don't need to leave, Mr. White, unless you want to."

  He nodded but didn't move any closer.

  Krista leaned forward to whisper. "I think he's still a little freaked. He was here when they pumped your stomach."

  "Oh," Pam replied quietly, before she spoke louder to Adam, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

  "Rob couldn't get here in time, and he wanted one of us with you, in case we were needed," Adam explained.

  "I don't think Rob has left your side since he arrived on the red-eye from Chicago," Krista added.

  Pam frowned. "Didn't he go to court?"

  "No. At least not that I know of." Krista glanced at Adam, who remained stone-faced. "Why do you ask?"

  "I was told he's been appointed my lawful guardian. I assumed he needed to see the judge personally to accomplish that."

  Both Krista and Pam looked to Adam for an answer. "Rob pays people very well to handle his legal affairs. The magic of lawyers. Besides, as long as he or I was here, they couldn't cart you off any place without a battle."

  "Thank you."

  "So, what happens now? Did anyone say when you can get out of here and come back to work?" Krista asked.

  Pam shook her head then glanced down at her fingers. "No. But, after this, I'm not sure Rob will want me back."

  Krista smacked her again. "Don't talk silliness. HR sent up a temp on Friday, and the girl is clueless."

  "Oh? They found someone already?"

  "Yeah, but once Rob gets back in the office, she'll be lucky to last the day."

  "I'm sure she's not that bad."

  "Trust me, she is. I don't think the woman even knows how to spell computer, let alone operate one."

  "Is she using my laptop?"

  Krista glanced back at Adam, who merely nodded. She shrugged. "Yeah. Company property and all that."

  "I see."

  "And you won't be needing it for quite some time, young lady," Rob said as he stepped out of the bathroom, his dark hair still wet from the shower but neatly combed, and his cheeks had been cleared of their earlier stubble. When Pam gave a nod, he strode over and clasped her fingers. "I expect you to rest, not work. Clear?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Krista, can you stay with Pam for a few minutes. I'd like a moment to speak with Adam alone."

  "Sure."

  "Great. Treat you to a cup of coffee, Adam. It's hospital issue, so no guarantees as to the quality."

  "If it's for institutional use, I can pretty much guarantee it'll taste like dishwater."

  Laughing, Rob clapped his partner on the shoulder as they left.

  Pam met Krista's worried eyes. "What?"

  "I shouldn't ask this, but did you do it on purpose?"

  "Overdose?"

  "Yeah. I overheard Rob tell Adam he'd been so hard on you, he thinks he's responsible for what happened."

  Pam closed her eyes. "I was upset, but I wasn't trying to kill myself. I was having trouble doing what he wanted, and I made some poor decisions."

  "What did he want you to do?"

  Pam chuckled, but without mirth. "Go to sleep."

  Krista nodded. "Yeah, he can be a real taskmaster that way sometimes." She hesitated then quietly added, "He was pretty upset. Adam actually had to calm him down this time."

  "I keep saying 'I'm sorry,' but it seems so inadequate, and I don't know what else to say."

  "Hey, there's nothing you need to say or do. We all make mistakes, and I know how hard-nosed Mr. 'I'm the boss, so do what I say' Peterson can get at times. When he lowers the boom on someone, he comes down hard, and from what he said to Adam, he didn't give you an inch Thursday night."

  "He told me I'm required to live with him until they're certain I'm no longer a risk to myself, but I get the impression he did it only to keep me out of an institution. I don't think he's pleased about having to babysit me."

  Krista shook her head. "Robert Peterson only does what he wants. No one could force him to do otherwise."

  "No. I think he did it for me, but…. But I don't think he would have applied for legal guardianship if he'd had another choice."

  "Are you kidding? A guardianship means he's been given total control over you. What about that makes you think the dominant in him isn't crowing with victory?

  "His eyes and the set of his mouth. He considers me a burden. I'm sure of it."

  Krista put her fingers over Pam's lips. "Don't ever let him hear you say that. You know what he'll do if you speak such heresy in his presence?"

  "Yes. I've been warned about questioning his intentions in the past. But what if it's true?"

  "It's not. But go ahead and ask him if you don't believe me, and he'll prove it to you."

  "That threat only convinces me to keep my mouth shut. It doesn't change my mind."

  "Oh, I'll bet he has ways to change your mind as well. Don't forget, I've seen him kiss you, Pam. The man does not consider you an inconvenience by any stretch of the imagination."

  "All right. That's enough gossiping, you two," Rob said as he stepped into the room holding a paper cup with a lid. "Pam needs her rest."

  Pam smiled and returned Krista's hug. "Thanks for visiting."

  "Take care. Maybe I can drop by again tomorrow."

  "I hope she'll be out of here by this afternoon, but I'll let you two chat on the phone for five minutes, if she behaves herself."

  Krista rose. "Hey, if she wants to talk, you should let her, big boss man. Keeping her cooped up isn't going to do her any good."

  "Thank you, Doctor Rensler, for your sage advice."

  "You're welcome, Mr. Peterson. I can only hope you heed it."

  With a flounce, she strode past him into the hall where she waited for Adam.

  "I'll start checking into your questions tomorrow and fill you in as soon as I find out anything."

  "Appreciate it. Thanks again
, Adam. For everything."

  Adam gave a nod, then a wave to Pam. "Take care."

  She smiled. "I don't think our 'big boss man' will let me do anything less."

  "You've got that right, kitten," Rob murmured affectionately as he moved closer and sat in the chair he'd occupied earlier. The scent of coffee wafted over to Pam, making her mouth water.

  She turned to face him. "I really do appreciate everything you did for me, but—"

  "Unh uh. You'd best stop right there, Miss Weston." He leaned in. "You and I have an understanding that far exceeds any legal responsibilities I may have acquired recently. Personally, I don't care much for mental institutions, and I don't like visiting them, so consider my motives as selfish." When she continued to regard him steadily, he asked, "What?"

  Pam shook her head. "You'll only scold me if I say it."

  He pressed back in his chair. "All right, let me guess. You think I'm taking you home with me out of some misguided sense of obligation and that I'd like nothing better than to be rid of you completely if given the choice."

  "Something like that," she muttered.

  "Well, you're partly right and wrong."

  "Which part?"

  "You're right, you would get in trouble if you said it, but you're wrong. I wouldn't scold you. I'd spank you for it." He took a sip of coffee.

  "And that's supposed to comfort me?"

  "Consider it reassurance."

  She snorted. "You suck at reassurance."

  Chuckling, he bent forward. "I want you with me, kitten. It's as simple as that. No ulterior motives. No misguided obligations on my part. I want to make sure you're taking better care of yourself. If this hadn't happened, I would have asked you to move in with me anyway."

  Pam's eyes widened. "You would?"

  Giving a nod, he leaned back again. "I was considering it. I know I was rough on you Thursday, but you needed to hear it. You were stringing me along, and it pissed me off. I didn't mean to send you into a panic or cause you trouble sleeping; though I'm sure I'm primarily to blame for both of those things happening."

  "I didn't expect to fall apart on you, but I was devastated by guilt."

  "Yeah. I'm good at that."

  "So, you're not angry with me anymore?"

  The eyebrow rose. "I wouldn't go so far as to say that. You're still in a lot of trouble, young lady. Not only because of this little mishap, but due to all the other things you did while I was away."