I bit my lip, because I really hated shoving someone in front a bus. And I wasn’t going to do that. Even with Jenna, the girl with a pair of Victoria’s biggest Secrets. Nope. Not goin’ to happen, Mr. Sinclair. You can sit there and penetrate me with those gorgeous eyes and startling smiles all day. I wasn’t going to slip this time. Nope!
“Jenna pushed you, Tylar?” Denise’s hiss was accessorized with one of those narrowed-eyed looks that most girls have down to perfection.
Ah, hell.
“Yeah, she did,” I said more to Denise than to Trey, followed by a quick, “but that’s part of the game, right? She really hadn’t been drinking any more than I had.” I shot Ray a quick look that practically screamed Help me, dammit!
Before he could jump in and save the day, I heard Trey’s deep breath.
“Alright,” he started, “It doesn’t matter if she was drinking. I just wanted to know what happened to you. Now, if you all will excuse me, I gotta go do some things.”
What. The…?
I would've replied to that except I wasn't sure what was going to come out of the guy’s mouth next. Luckily, Denise edged herself into the conversation again.
“Well, thank you, Mr. Sinclair for bringing Tylar here to the hospital. She’ll be like brand new in a couple days. You practically won’t even know that she’s gone!” She confettied that last statement with a false laugh, which sobered right up the second Trey gifted her with a dark look. Still, the woman soldiered right on through. “We’re just goin’ to get her bathed right up, and she’ll be nearly sparklin’.”
“Thank you,” Trey tossed at her before he threw a last glance my way. “Make sure she stays in the shallow end.”
And then he was gone. Just like that.
Chapter 4
Trey had just left when Ray spoke up, concern lacing his voice.
"Ty, we've been trying like crazy to contact your mom. We wanted to let her know what happened. Have you spoken with her?”
“No, not since she drove me to the bus station in Louisville to come here,” I answered.
“Maybe you wrote the wrong number on your emergency contact form.”
“Doubtful, but I’d have to see it to be sure. I have her number programmed into my cell though.”
“Where’s your cell?”
“Back at my cottage.”
“Okay,” he said, “I'm gonna fetch it and bring it to you this evening, okay? You need to let your mom know where you are and that you're okay.”
“Sure, okay, Ray.”
Boy, he did not know my mom; that was certain.
Ray?” I said, letting my curiosity get the best of me.
“Yes, darlin’?”
“You know there are rumors floating around the place about Trey and some scandal with his former fiancée. I wondered—”
“Damn gossip,” Ray interrupted, frowning. “Ty, that's all it is. I don’t know the particulars of what you’ve heard; all I know is that Trey's someone that I trust completely."
Denise came bouncing back into my hospital room at that moment, smiling and carrying some type of cosmetic case.
“Good news for you, girlie,” she said with a broad smile. “I'm cleared to help you with a shower. We’ll get your hair washed and conditioned, and who knows, maybe add a pinch of my magic dust to it to give you a bit of a new look, that’s if you’re game and trust me with it.”
“Oh my God yes, Denise!” I laughed. “Please make me look better!”
“Great!” she chirped. “Okay, Ray outta here, baby. We girls have some magic to work. I'll call you later to pick me up. And let Jenna in Ty's cottage to get her some proper sleepwear and bring it with you when you come back, darlin'."
“Yes, dear” he replied, trying his best to sound like the over-burdened boyfriend.
The shower felt exquisite. I lathered my hair with shampoo, twice, then rinsed and conditioned. Once I’d toweled off, Denise had me sit on the bedside chair while she combed out my wet locks. “Now, I’m going to spray on a little detangler here, hun,” she explained. "And I gotta ask, are you particularly fond of wearing your hair this long?" she asked me, wrinkling her nose slightly.
“Why?” I asked, eying her a bit suspiciously, noting she wasn't fond of my current hairstyle.
My thoughts strayed back to my freshman year of high school, two days before class pictures were being taken. Mom decided that my hair needed a bit of a trim before picture day. My hair fell to my shoulders and I loved the way it swung softly about.
“Just an inch or so, Ty,” Mom prods. “Just let me get the split ends off. It will lay better and look much healthier for your pictures. If I’m paying for those pictures then you can damn well make sure you look your best in them, hear?”
An hour later, I look at the pile of hair laying on the bathroom floor in shock. I grab the hand mirror off the vanity. I see the look of horror that appears on my face as I see my own reflection. My hair is in a short, butch cut. My mom's beside me, watching my reaction. I turn and face her incredulously.
“Now don’t blame me!” she says, holding her hands up defensively. “You got that funny shaped head and it makes it hard when I’m trying to even up both sides of it. Had to keep taking more off so I could get it evened up, but I think it’s cute. You ought to see the back. I think they call this a bob.”
When she sees I’m not buying it she gets more flustered with me. “It’s just hair, dammit! It’s not like it won’t grow back. I swear, I try and do something nice for my girl and do you think she appreciates it? Hell no - no way!"
“I’m sorry, I’m sure once I wash and style it myself it will be fine. I'm sorry, Mom."
“Hello? Earth to Tylar?” It was Denise’s voice bringing me back to the present. “How about it? I've a really cute cut in mind. I’ll mostly just put it in long layers to frame around that beautiful face of yours. Maybe add a few highlights?” she coaxed eagerly. “Nothing major, mind you, just to soften the look and highlights will give this gorgeous hair of yours more depth. What do you think?"
“Go for it, Denise,” I allowed.
Forty-five minutes later Denise had finished.
“All done,” she announced pleased with the look. We hurried into the bathroom so she could show me the results. Flipping on the light, she spread out her arms. “Voila!”
“Wow,” I said, then another “Wow!”
“You like?” she beamed proudly.
“Uh, Denise, actually, it looks…I look like—”
“—Rachel!” she squealed, delighted that I recognized the cut.
I swung my head from side to side. The layers bounced. I stared at my reflection. How could I not love looking like Jennifer Aniston’s hair double?
Denise was clearly pleased with her workmanship. My hair was now an exact replica of Jennifer Aniston’s style from, oh, what? Like fifteen years ago? As long as it was still long enough to pull up into a ponytail when I worked I could hang with it. I knew Denise was waiting for more.
“Denise,” I said, turning to her and smiling, “I love it!”
I gave her a big hug and watched as she beamed proudly.
Chapter 5
I was alone in my hospital room for the first time all day. I figured I might as well get dressed for bed.
I went to the bathroom and changed into a clean hospital gown, wishing I'd asked Ray to bring a nightgown or sleep shorts to me from my cottage.
I clutched the edges of the open back together, even though there was no need since it was just me and made my way back to my bed.
“Well, Ms. Preston, I see hospital garb suits you well.”
“Oh!” I exclaimed, startled. Trey was half sitting, half sprawled out in the only cushioned chair in the room. He'd taken his suit jacket off and tossed it over the back of the chair. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the top, his tie was loosened. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to just below his elbows. His sapphire blue eyes seemed even darker as they flickered appre
ciatively over my body, coming to rest on the generous cleavage created by the too-small camisole. I scrambled into my bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. I could feel the blush coloring my face; I glared at him for causing it. He chuckled, displaying that magnificent dimple.
He approached the side of my bed. He lifted a lock of my newly highlighted, layered hair, thoughtfully rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger.
“I like it,” he said thoughtfully. “Denise did a very nice job on your hair.”
“Thank you,” I managed a smile.
“It’s not exactly my style, but I guess I'll get used to it."
“You’re extremely beautiful, but I suspect you knew that already."
I blushed at the compliment, not quite sure how to respond to this unfamiliar territory. Maybe a change of subject would take those piercing blue eyes off of me.
“Tre…I mean Mr. Sinclair?” I started, "Why are you here?"
“Please, let’s dispense with this ‘Mr. Sinclair’ stuff once and for all,” he said, laughing and waving his hand dismissively. “After all, I’ve seen parts of you over the course of the past few days that clothes would never cover if it were up to me. It’s Trey, okay?”
I blushed when I tried to imagine the extent of what he'd seen.
“You and I need to discuss a few matters, if you’re not too tired at the moment?”
“I’m fine,” I answered, “in fact, I feel almost back to normal. I get to go home tomorrow."
“Actually you were released today,” he said. “I insisted they keep you over at least another day or two so that arrangements can be made.”
“I’m not sure what you mean about arrangements.”
“Several of the staff members have attempted to reach your mother on the number listed in your personnel file. It's no longer a valid cell phone number. It could've been put into our computer system in error. I'd like for you to call her now, please.”
“I've no problem calling my mom,” I replied, “but wouldn’t she be a little late to the party since I’m fine now?”
He handed my cell phone to me, his eyes now searching my face.
“What?” I asked.
“Call your mother,” he instructed. “She needs to know what’s going on and I need to know what your plans are so that I can schedule adjustments with the staff.”
I took my phone from him and pulled up my mom’s number. It didn’t ring. There was a three-tone signal followed by a digital recording stating that the number dialed was either out of service or had been disconnected. No further information was available. I snapped the phone shut and let it fall onto my bed.
Trey looked at me expectantly, “Well?”
“It’s either out of service or has been disconnected. You had the right number after all.”
“Is this typical of your mom?” he questioned.
“Nothing's typical about my mom.”
"Tylar,” he implored, “there must be a friend, a neighbor, someone you can call to get word to your mom about your injury.”
“Look,” I snapped, “maybe she hasn’t paid her cell phone bill. It happens. If you think for one minute that my mother wants me back in her house to make sure I recover to your expectations, well then you're delusional. She has her own life to live and apparently, that's what she's doing. That phone works both ways you know. It’s not as if she has called me in the last three weeks. If you don’t believe me, check the call log for yourself.”
Trey was momentarily taken aback by my outburst. “What about a job? Does she work somewhere that we can call?”
“She works Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday for Findley, Morris & Sneed. It’s a law firm in Louisville.”
He sighed audibly, walking over to the side of the bed where I could see him.
“I'll have someone here tomorrow to take you back to your cottage, okay?”
“Thank you,” I replied. “Could you please have them bring something for me to wear?”
“Sure,” he responded politely. “Ray and I'll review the staffing schedule to see who we can move around to cover your duties and where we might put you in the interim.”
“I appreciate that, Trey.”
And then he was gone.
Chapter 6
Early the next morning Denise barreled through my hospital door, carrying a bag of clothes with her. “Ray let me into your cottage sweetie. I got you a pair of jeans, bra, panties, tee shirt, and these sneakers. Will that do?”
“Denise, you’re an angel,” I said.
As Denise drove us back to Sinclair Stables, I quizzed her. “Have I missed anything good since I’ve been out of commission?”
“Well, honey, I’m not sure what you consider good. Let’s see. I did hear Ray say that Derringer is eating well again. He was on a little bit of a hunger strike from missing you and all. Oh and the races will start over at the track Saturday evening. Everybody’s excited about that. Ray said you're to take it easy today and he'll stop over later to fill you in on your revised schedule.”
“I can hardly wait to get back to work. I feel perfectly fine, you know. I hope Trey didn’t tell Ray to schedule me somewhere boring, like over at the Belle.”
“Well, whatever you're instructed to do, Tylar, it’s for your own good. Keep that in mind, you hear?”
“Yes, Mom,” I teased.
Pulling down the long drive at the Sinclair estate, I spotted Clint and Luke out in the pasture, exercising Ariel and the brown chestnut, Socrates. Both horses were being worked to race at the track over at the Belle. Denise tapped her horn, getting Luke and Clint’s attention. I waved eagerly at them from the passenger seat. Clint recognized me immediately, pulling off his hat and waving it back and forth while Socrates, startled by the car horn, pranced.
“I want to help them get the quarters ready for this weekend’s races.”
“Well I wouldn’t count on doing that anytime soon, hun.”
“What do you mean?” I turned to look at her.
“It’s just that when Trey came by early this morning to speak with Ray, uhh, I did hear a few things.”
“Spill it, Denise."
“He instructed Ray that under no circumstances were you to be working in the stables, exercising the horses, or even pleasure riding until further notice.”
“What?” I exclaimed. “What will I do, then?”
“I think maybe you'll be working over at the Belle,” she said, almost inaudibly.
“Dressing up and giving tours?”
“No, no,” she assured me.
I felt some relief.
“I think you're scheduled to work in the main building.”
Oh Jeez! There were just old ladies in that building working the gift shop, restaurant, and special event planning. I looked over at Denise.
“It won’t be forever. He’s just worried about you after what you’ve been through and all. I heard him tell Ray about your nightmare. I really do think it shook Trey up. I’ve never seen him so concerned about anyone like he is with you. Seems to me he’s quite protective of you, sweetie.”
I gave her a sidelong glance, with an unspoken Puleeze.
“I don’t care if you believe me or not, you’ll see in time.”
“I had a concussion, Denise. Of course I was having dreams, nightmares, whatever. But there was nothing on those discharge papers saying anything about me not riding or working around horses.”
“He’s just being a bit over-protective, sweetie, you know after that accident back there in—” She stopped abruptly, realizing that she'd said too much.
“C’mon Denise, finish what you started. I’ve already heard some rumors about him and a fiancée that ditched him. Tell me what you know.”
“Listen here, if you want to know what happened, you need to ask Trey. I don't like to talk out of turn."
That was the end of the conversation.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Once back in my cottage, I relaxed on the couch, reminiscing about
our house in Kentucky and what it had been like growing up there. I'd always been given chores. By the time I turned seven years old my chores included doing the dishes, taking the trash out, cleaning my room, and folding my own laundry. By the time I was thirteen, I was responsible for cleaning the whole house on Saturdays, earning $20 a week.
I liked Saturdays because Mom would allow me to have my new best friend Laurie over on Friday nights to spend the night with me. Laurie’s mom, Mona, and my mom were good friends. Mona was about the only female friend that I remembered Mom having. They lived five blocks from us. Laurie would come home from school with me on Fridays. After Mom got off work, she'd bring a pizza home for us and let us stay up until midnight.
On Saturday, Mona would come by and pick Laurie up at noon. That's when my chores began. I'd put clean sheets on the beds, then start cleaning the rest of the house. Mom left right at 1 p.m. for her weekly appointment at the spa. She'd get a facial, pedicure, manicure, and her hair styled. She'd stop at the grocery to get stuff for dinner.
Saturday was Mom’s "date night" so that's when I would stay overnight at Laurie's. Mona would come by with Laurie to pick me up, just as Mom was starting dinner for her date. Laurie said her mom was the same way on her Friday date nights. I guess that’s why Laurie slept over at my house on her mom’s date nights. We had a lot in common. Neither one of us had any family except for our mothers.
I was startled from my sleepy memories by the sound of my cell phone ringing. I jumped up to answer it. “Hello?”
“I trust you got home and settled okay.”
It was Trey’s “business” voice and my stomach did a flip-flop. I wanted his smooth and silky voice back.
“Yes,” I answered softly. “Everything went fine. I feel fine. I'm ready to go back to work and dig in.”
I was curious as to whether he was going to divulge my new assignment, or leave the dirty work to Ray when he came by later.
“Tylar, Ray was supposed to stop by this evening after his shift to discuss the schedule we worked out for you for the next couple of weeks. Unfortunately, when I just now called him, he has been delayed by an early delivery of a foal over at the Belle. He's staying there waiting for the vet. Since he hasn’t had the opportunity to discuss the specifics with you, I wanted to give you a call to let you know to just take it easy tomorrow until Ray can get with you about next week’s schedule.”
Shattered Dreams (Dreams Series Book 1) Page 4