Ana knew that everyone was headed for the after-party. Lash made reservations in a hotel ballroom a few blocks away. She had lost track of him a while ago. She assumed he was occupied with media interviews or attending to the well-heeled crowd and relishing the night’s success.
Inside the dressing rooms, there was orderly chaos as the girls changed into party clothes, grabbed their bags, and headed for the theater exit.
With the rest of the girls gone, the dressing room was silent. She was probably the only person left in the theatre. As the main female dancer, Ana knew she was expected to be at the party just like Ricardo was. She gathered her belongings and stuffed them inside her backpack.
She was exhausted. It was the kind of exhaustion that affected the spirit more than her body. She was lethargic and feeling suddenly vulnerable. For the first time today in the silence of the room, she allowed herself to feel some of the emotions she kept at bay before the show. She had opened a small floodgate only to realize too late the pressure had been building all this time, and now, there was no stopping it.
Ricardo’s disclosure for the reason behind the actual kiss. Lash manipulating her into saying yes. Horne Calloway’s scathing remarks about her people and how oblivious he was that she had Gypsy blood. It hurt that she couldn’t even defend her race. But what wounded her was Lash’s silence in the face of Calloway’s prejudice. By saying nothing, he condoned Calloway like it was the truth. Worse, he lied about her true identity, even lied about his, afraid he would be deprived of the endorsement he so badly needed.
Suddenly, Ana was riddled with suspicion that he even went further than that, and… she was a willing victim. He used sex to hold her captive. And she allowed it to happen. How could she be so stupid?
All men just really wanted sex from her. Why would he be any different?
But why did it hurt so bad that she wanted to curl up and die?
Ana felt the tears well up in her eyes. She tried to stop them, but her body had given her too many free passes for today. The tears rolled down her cheeks freely until they flowed in torrents. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed for everything that had gone wrong.
Poignantly, the night that was to be her greatest victory was the night she felt most defeated.
She composed herself and slowly gathered her belongings. What was the point in treating herself like some discarded tissue? Lash had done a magnificent job doing that. She needed to think clearly because there was no doubt in her mind what her next move would be.
She was leaving New York, leaving her dreams behind. The city was a cruel taskmaster. It had no place for girls like her. She belonged in Spain, back in Torrevieja, where she could start anew.
Leaving without notice would probably cause uproar. Ana didn’t care. She had done her part of the bargain. She was certain Calloway would give a glowing review of tonight’s performance. Lash would get the endorsement he wanted just as she promised him. Then the bastard could clean up the mess she left behind with her sudden disappearance.
“There is no shortage of dancers who could take my place,” Ana assumed.
The notion eased her conscience as she stepped onto the curb and hailed a passing taxi. She asked if he could wait while she packed her belongings.
“Sure, where you headed?” the cabbie asked.
“JFK Airport,” Ana replied.
The driver scratched his head. “If you are catching a flight, you might not make it. The whole city is on a gridlock.”
“No. I have no reservations yet. I‘ll take my chances when I get there,” Ana replied.
Ana arrived at the apartment and began packing her things. She only needed the green backpack, the same one that she used when she first arrived in the city. Ana pondered her luck, arriving in New York full of optimism and leaving tonight so disappointed and unhappy. But there was no time to dwell on her misery. The cab was waiting for her outside.
On the ride to the airport, Ana considered her decision. Was she doing the right thing or was she being irresponsible? Surely, there had to be consequences. She didn’t want people to assume something bad happened to her. The last thing she wanted was to see her face splashed in a major daily and tagged as missing. She needed to tell someone, but who? Then she thought of Jonathan, her choreographer. He was probably still at the after-party together with everyone else. She debated whether to call him or send a text message.
Ana decided the latter was the better option. Calling Jonathan would lead to questions that she wasn’t prepared to answer yet. A text would be a clean break. Let him know she was not some missing person, but simply decided to leave.
Ana pressed the “Send” button. The deed was done. Nothing could stop her now as she leaned back for the rest of the ride.
The cabbie was right. Traffic was bad everywhere. Even Belt Parkway leading to JFK Expressway was bumper to bumper. She heaved a sigh a relief as the JFK airport terminal came into view.
The taxi dropped her off at the entrance, and she made her way to the rows of ticket windows. Thankfully, there was a flight leaving for Barcelona in a few hours. Ana thanked her lucky stars as she searched for a seat in the crowded lounge. Her stomach grumbled heartily. She realized she had had nothing to eat since the morning. She noticed some fast food counters a few meters away. Grabbing her bag, she headed to the nearest one and ordered a bowl of noodles. It tasted flat and soggy. But she needed to satisfy her hunger. After a while, she pushed it aside and headed back to the lounge.
The lounge was even more crowded now as she searched for a place to rest. She spotted a seat facing a huge TV monitor. Ana took it fully intending to distract herself watching whatever was on TV. It was one of those local news with the stock market results constantly flashing across the screen.
It was better than having her own thoughts play across her mind, she decided. Her life’s drama had taken a sudden turn for the worse, and she wasn’t about to dwell on it. Her tears were just there in the periphery of her eyes. Any provocation and she would start bawling once more. She wondered how she could feel so alone with so many people around her.
“Stop thinking about it, Ana,” she scolded herself concentrating on the TV monitor as a substitute for her wayward thoughts. The constant flashing was hypnotic for her weary body and she wasn’t even doing a good job trying not thinking of Lash because even the broadcaster on TV appeared to be saying his name.
It was one of those “Breaking News” stories. Ana had gotten used to it by now. It was mostly about a major catastrophe in another part of the world – an earthquake in Peru, a tsunami in Asia, or some newscast that tagged at the heart only to be forgotten a few seconds later.
This one seemed different, familiar even, as it showed an aerial view of a stretch of highway that was filled with cars. Ana bolted upright as she heard Lash’s name mentioned again.
…billionaire and Philanthropist Lash Mancini was involved in a highway accident a few minutes ago along the stretch of JFK Expressway. Mancini was aboard his luxury Ducati motorcycle when a delivery truck broke through the highway barrier and hit Mancini from behind. According to some witnesses at the scene, the driver of the truck must have fallen asleep on the wheel and didn’t realize that he had jumped the barrier until it was too late. Mancini, a known bike enthusiast, had just come from an after-party after a successful opening night. There has been no word about his current condition although it is believed he suffered some serious head trauma. Mancini was brought to Mt. Sinai General Hospital by responding Medical personnel.”
Ana was frozen to the spot. Her mind was chaotic. Lash was dying or probably dead. Head trauma? What did that mean? How serious was it? And what was he doing riding a motorcycle. She didn’t even know he owned one. Then again, it seemed like there were a lot of things she didn’t know about him. JFK Expressway? That was the stretch of highway leading to the airport, wasn’t it?
The thoughts that whirled came to a sudden stop that hurt her brain. Ana sagged. Lash was coming af
ter her. That had to be the only possible explanation. After she sent Jonathan the text message, Lash was the only person Jonathan would tell. Because traffic was bad everywhere, Lash probably thought he had a better chance of getting to her in the motorcycle instead of the Bentley.
“Oh god,” Ana moaned.
She had no idea that her decision to leave would lead to something like this. Lash was hurt…or probably dead.
“No…no…no,” she cried silently.
What was she to do? She was confused, panicked, afraid and helpless all at the same time.
An announcement was heard through the airport PA system.
“Calling the attention of all passengers bound for Barcelona, Spain. Please proceed to Gate 5 for boarding. Calling the attention of passengers….”
“That my flight,” she thought through the fog in her brain.
Numbed with shock, Ana rose from her seat with the intention of proceeding to the gate. Then she stopped suddenly.
“What am I doing? Lash needs me.”
She whirled around fighting her way against the tide of passengers on their way to gate 5. When she broke free from the surge of bodies all around, Ana sprinted to the exit doors. Only one prayer ran through her mind.
“Dear god, please don’t let me be too late.”
Chapter FOURTEEN
The waiting room at Sinai General Hospital was as cold as it was sterile. Ana shivered. She knew the coldness was coming from within her soul. Thankfully, the taxi ride from the airport to the hospital was relatively short, although it felt like an eternity as she battled with the demons in her brain.
She had no idea what was in store for her once she got there. All she knew was that she needed to be there for Lash. Overwhelming guilt engulfed her. She regretted ignoring his whispered plea during curtain call about wanting to talk. If she had listened, he wouldn’t have followed her to the airport and gotten into that accident. Her impulsive nature was to blame. She realized that everything stemmed from her wounded pride. He hurt her deeply, but that wasn’t reason enough to deny him the chance to explain himself.
She wondered if she would have reacted the same way if her heart hadn’t been so heavily invested in Lash. If it were any of her past boyfriends, she would have listened to what they had to say even after she had made up her mind to end the relationship.
“This is all my fault,” she blamed herself, wishing she could turn back time.
The nurse at the lobby of the hospital directed her towards the Trauma Care Center. Ana rushed over only to find out that Lash had been brought to ICU.
“Are you family?” the receptionist asked.
Ana shook her head. Lash had no family that she knew of, but he had to have someone who would represent him in cases like this.
“My name is Ana, Ana Garcia and I’m his friend,” she volunteered hoping it was enough to get some information.
Every minute that passed was torture. She couldn’t get any information, and she desperately needed to know how he was. The frustration was too much to bear. She wanted to scream at the tight-lipped receptionist. Making a scene wouldn’t help, she thought as she burst into tears.
“Why doesn’t anyone tell me anything,” she wailed. “I just want to know if he is alright,” she sobbed.
The receptionist came out from behind the table and placed an arm around her shoulder.
“I understand how you feel. I would tell you more if I had that information,” she consoled.
“Please, please I just really need to know how he is doing,” Ana begged hoarsely.
The receptionist gently brought her to the waiting room. “Stay here, I’ll see what I can do.”
Ana glanced at her watch. Only five minutes had elapsed since the receptionist left, but every second was excruciating, as it was long. She jumped to her feet when a nurse in scrubs and a facemask entered the room.
“Miss Garcia?”
Ana nodded. Her eyes showed all the torment she was feeling.
The nurse came forward and handed her a plastic bag. “Reception said you’re Mr. Mancini’s girlfriend. These are his personal effects. Please keep them in the meantime.”
Ana was surprised. She never mentioned anything about being Lash’s girlfriend. But someone was finally here that she could talk to. She silently thanked the receptionist at the lobby
“How-how is he?” the tremor in Ana’s voice was plain to hear.
“Mr. Mancini is currently in surgery. His MRI showed swelling in the brain,” the nurse informed her.
“When-when will we know for sure if…”?
“Miss Garcia, in cases like trauma to the head, there is no way of telling. The surgery is to relieve the pressure inside. The doctors are doing everything possible. Mr. Mancini is young and strong, so the prognosis seems hopeful. We’ll know more after the surgery is done,” the nurse explained.
Ana was left alone once more with the package the nurse had handed her. She opened the bag and realized it contained the clothes he had worn at opening night, his leather shoes, and his watch. The sight of his clothes was enough to trigger more tears.
She pulled his shirt out from the bag and got a whiff of his cologne. The soft fabric in her hand was the last thing that touched his skin. She buried her nose in the shirt then held it next to her heart.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she sobbed.
She moved to fold the shirt intent on returning it to the bag with the rest of his things when something fluttered to the ground. It must have been inside one of the pockets. She bent down to retrieve it and realized it was a piece of stationery paper folded into half.
Curious, she opened it. It was a note with Lash’s handwriting. It read…
Ana,
Please don’t go ahead with the kiss as we agreed the other night. It is no longer necessary. It is not something I am proud of, and I hope that you can forgive me when I explain.
I know you were hurt by the comments Calloway made before the performance. I was a fool not to correct him and an even bigger fool for making him believe that you are anything besides whom you really are. I intend to make amends by telling Calloway the truth after the show. To hell with the endorsement. It is not as important to me as you are.
Ana, I know that I have hurt you somehow. Hurting you hurts me more than you realize because the truth is, I’m in love with you.
I love you, Ana.
Lash
Her hands shook as she reread it. She thought her mind was playing tricks on her, but the stationery certainly was real, and so were the words written.
Ana wondered why the note was inside his pocket. If he meant her to have it, why didn’t he give it to her before the finale dance?
Something stirred in her memory. The commotion outside her dressing room. The usher who was prevented by the guards from entering the area. He said that he needed to deliver a note. Lash must have sent the note through the attendant, but it never got to her. Lash was trying to prevent her from going ahead with the real kiss.
Ana stared at the note. It was all there in black and white. I-love-you. Three little words. But it was everything. Ana felt her spirit soar. It was similar to how she felt when they danced together that night in the studio. It made her feel alive and so brand new.
Footsteps echoed in the empty hallway. Ana looked up and saw a man coming towards her. He was wearing green surgical scrubs.
Ana’s heart stopped beating. She couldn’t tell from his demeanor whether he was bringing her good news or bad.
“Miss Garcia, my name is Doctor Santos. I have just performed surgery on Mr. Mancini.”
“Yes?” Ana croaked.
“He is doing fine right now. But we had to induce a coma to give his brain time to recover. We will be watching him closely for the next 24-hours until he comes out of it,” the doctor announced.
Ana swayed slightly. A feeling of intense relief surged through her entire body.
“Can I see him?” she implored.
“Of course, you can. Just don’t expect him to wake up anytime soon.”
Ana could hardly wait as the nurse escorted her to the ICU. She needed to see him so badly; it was like a physical pain in her heart. Her tears fell when she finally set eyes on him.
A swathe of bandages was wrapped around his head and all kinds of intimidating monitors were attached to his body. She had never seen him this vulnerable, and it nearly broke her heart. She approached the bed and took one of his hands in hers. She kissed the back of his hand and pressed it against her tear-stained face.
The Boss's Fiance Box Set Page 45