by Zuri Day
Julian leaned forward, studying the screen. “That sounds more serious than a grade-two sprain, Doctor.”
“It is.”
“What does that mean?” Nicki didn’t try to hide her rising anxiety. “Will I have to have surgery?”
“I don’t want to recommend treatment based on these radiographs alone, so I have ordered an MRI to provide a more definitive image.”
Nicki’s eyes widened. “You mean go inside that tube thingy?”
Dr. Allen smiled. “No, Nicki. We have a scanner that functions without you having to be fully enclosed.”
Her relief was evident. “How soon can we do that?”
“As soon as we can get you down there.”
“And how long for the results?” Julian asked.
“Hopefully by Monday.”
“Is there any way they can come sooner? I told the director of my stage production that I’d have an answer today about how long it will take for my ankle to heal.”
Again the slight smile that Nicki realized was more from habit than anything else. “Unfortunately we cannot get MRI results back in less than twenty-four hours. But I think it’s safe to say you won’t be out for more than four weeks.”
“Four weeks! Doctor, I can’t.”
“Perhaps less if the MRI reveals that the bone isn’t actually fractured. Even then, it will be at least a week before you can begin physical therapy and at least two weeks to fully heal. You being in shape as a dancer is helpful. It will speed your recovery. I wish I had better news, but we don’t want you to go back to work prematurely and risk permanent injury. In the meantime, keep the foot elevated when possible. Pay attention to the swelling, which should go down considerably in the next couple days. Also begin testing the ankle, gently, for its flexibility and level of pain.”
Julian stood as the doctor did, holding out his hand. “Thanks, Doctor.”
“You’re welcome.” He walked over to Nicki. “Chin up, Nicki. As bad as this is, when it comes to bicycle accidents I’ve seen much worse.”
“Thank you, Dr. Allen.”
“I’m happy to help. Someone will be in shortly to take you down for the MRI. After that, you’re free to go. I’ll call you on Monday as soon as there’s news.”
Back in the car, Nicki wasn’t happy, and not even Julian’s positive perspective could cheer her up.
“Look at the good side, babe. Not getting this second opinion could have led to permanent damage. This way you heal correctly, and come back at one hundred percent.”
“Come back to what? Auditions for another marginal play or the rigors of regional theater and months on the road in a tour bus? Like I’ve done off and on for the last seven years? With that role in A Hair’s Tale, I thought those days were over.” She dug through her purse, mumbling, “Looks like the only thing that’s over is my part in it.”
She pulled out her phone, scrolled through the contact list and tapped the screen.
“Who are you calling?”
“Milo, the director.”
“Sure that can’t wait until Monday, when you have news?”
“Probably.” When Milo’s voice mail answered, she hung up without leaving a message. “It’ll be better to talk to him then, anyway, and tell him I’ll be back dancing in three weeks or less.”
“I know that’s what you want, babe. But best not to get your hopes up until you have more information.”
“I’m just being positive, like you said. You did say that, right?”
“You’re right. I did. Just don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“I’m going to make sure of that myself. Where there’s a will, there’s a way, and one way or another, a couple weeks from Monday, I’ll be back on that stage.”
Her mind might have doubted, but Nicki’s voice was strong and filled with conviction. Misdiagnoses happened. Doctors had been wrong before. Nicki hadn’t come this far to let a tiny bone fragment stop her. Tickets continued to be sold out. The show got rave reviews. There was a sense of certainty in her gut. A Hair’s Tale was going to have a long run on Broadway. And so was she.
Chapter 9
When they’d first met, Nicki found Julian’s wealth intimidating. So he’d downplayed it. As she watched the private jet’s stairs transform into a ramp that could accommodate the wheelchair upon which he’d insisted, even she admitted money had its privileges.
Once on board the sleek Challenger 850, her appreciation continued. The stark brightness of the cabin with its white walls and ceiling was complemented perfectly by the black flooring, dark gray leather seats and various shades of gray that continued throughout. Splashes of red interrupted the black, white and gray theme, just enough to bring interest to the palette without lessening the sophistication of the cabin’s smart design.
Nicki immediately thought of the town house and its similar color scheme and wondered if they’d been remodeled by the same designer. The wheelchair was folded and stored up front. Nicki had no problem using her crutches to navigate the aisle. It was one reason Julian had wanted to arrive early, before the plane’s fourteen seats were totally filled. And according to him, they would be. They bypassed two rows of forward-facing chairs and a meeting area with chairs facing each other and a love seat between them. Across from the meeting area was a full bathroom, complete with a marble shower. Beyond that were tables on either side of the aisle framed by two sets of chairs. Perfect for dining or playing games. Nicki directed Julian to the chairs facing the front. He then reached into one of the overhead bins and pulled out a couple pillows to place under her ankle and elevate it, as Dr. Allen had instructed.
Nicki turned the chair so that Julian could place her leg on the pillows on the chair beside her.
“How is that? Are you comfortable?”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
“Are you sure? Is it hurting? Do you need to take some medication?”
“It’s throbbing a little, but I don’t want to take anything.”
The flight attendant came over. “Dr. Drake, could I get you or your guest something to drink or a snack?”
Julian looked at Nicki, who shook her head. He sat across from her. “No, thank you. We’re fine for now.”
“This is my first time on a private plane, and I can’t believe how different it looks from regular ones. With love seats and tables, a full bath! It’s more beautiful and well appointed than most homes I’ve been to. And here I’ve thought myself big-time when paying fifty extra bucks to upgrade for more leg room! After this trip, flying regular will never be the same.” She looked at him, her face a question. “Is this how you fly when we’re not together?”
“No, and it’s not the way any other of the family flies all the time, either. This is the company plane, used almost exclusively for company business. On some occasions the paths of business and pleasure cross and the plane can be used to accommodate both.”
“But you usually fly first-class.”
“So do you when you’re with me.”
“I know.”
“So what’s your point?”
“I guess I forget sometimes how rich you are.”
Julian turned to face her fully. “I’ll tell you what my dad told me when I was younger. He’s rich. We kids used borrowed money that came from the rich dad.”
“Thanks for trying to be humble, but you’re rich, too.”
“My financial portfolio is healthy. But it wasn’t all handed to me. My parents gave me a good foundation that I’ve worked hard to build on.”
A sudden din of voices announced the next group’s arrival. Nicki looked up as Julian’s sister Teresa and her husband, Atka, entered, joking with Niko, Monique and their pregnant sister-in-law Charli, followed by Terrell.
Julian stood as the couples waved and sat, all except Niko and
Terrell, who continued toward them. “Wow, Niko. Back-to-back New York trips in less than a month? London’s got clout.”
“She must not be the only one,” Terrell interrupted, “because one glance and everyone knows you’re not into fashion.”
Julian responded to the good-natured ribbing with a fake punch to his brother’s gut.
“How are you, Nicki?” Terrell leaned over for a hug. “Sure you’re able to be in New York and not get on stage?”
“Not at all.”
“We can’t have you trying to dance before that ankle is ready. Julian, you’d better watch her.”
“I’m on it, bro. Don’t worry. Where’s Aliyah?”
“She had to work.”
“And she let you roll solo?”
Terrell put a finger to his lips. “I snuck out the house. Don’t tell anyone.”
They laughed as Ike Sr. and Jennifer entered the plane along with Ike Jr., Quinn and another couple.
“Who’s that?” Julian asked.
“That’s Quinn’s dad and stepmother. You don’t remember them from the wedding?”
“Obviously not.”
“Don’t even know your own kin,” Terrell joked, shaking his head.
“There were almost three hundred people there when Ike and Quinn got married.” Julian looked not one bit embarrassed.
“True, but only one set of parents for Quinn.”
“And your point is?”
“That you’re stupid,” Terrell deadpanned.
Julian looked at Nicki. “See what I had to endure growing up?”
“All that IQ going to waste, being squeezed into forgetfulness inside that small head.”
“Brother, I’m concerned. Have you been treated?”
“For what?”
“For the oral acid malabsorption causing diarrhea of the mouth.”
“Very funny, Doctor,” Terrell said, not laughing.
“Cut it out, you two,” Nicki warned. “You’re lucky to have each other.”
Terrell looked confused. Julian explained, “The misplaced longings of an only child.”
“Ah, got it.” And then to Nicki. “Come spend a week with all of us together. We’ll change your mind.”
Quinn brought back her parents, introduced them to Nicki and reacquainted them with Julian. They then joined Ike in the area with the love seat.
“They going to the show?” Julian asked Terrell, now joined by his sister-in-law Charli, Atka and Teresa, all sitting at the table across the aisle.
He shook his head. “Handling some East Coast business. Just bumming a ride.”
“Nice to have friends in high places,” Nicki said.
“Not friends, family,” Terrell corrected. “They’ve only got it like that because Quinn is a Drake.”
The flight took off, the group settled in and for the next five hours, Nicki observed and enjoyed some of the undeniable advantages of being a Drake. Besides the private plane and the attendant’s stellar service. Dinner was like that from a Michelin-starred chef. Salmon flown in fresh from Atka’s Alaskan fishery, lobster tails from Maine. Alkaline water, top-shelf drinks and a cheesecake ice cream with a hot fudge and pecan drizzle that was so decadent and delicious Nicki wanted to lick the bowl.
Even better than the luxury, service and food was the obvious love shared between all of the family. Everyone made sure Nicki felt at home. One by one they came back, said hello and asked how she was doing. Jennifer made a date for them to do lunch the following week. Although Nicki hadn’t talked much with Ike Sr.—his presence was very commanding—his greeting was warm, his smile sincere. There was nonstop teasing. Nicki laughed till she cried. And between the couples lots of subtle affection—touches, hand holding, a quick kiss or two. Growing up it had just been her and her mother. Other than in movies, Nicki was sure that she’d never seen true love such as this. She thought about how she’d turned down Julian’s proposal and Paige’s reaction when she told her. How she’d said no to marrying a smart, wealthy, well-mannered man with values, who came from a loving, close-knit family filled with successful businessmen and celebrities. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now turning him down felt like the worst mistake she’d ever made. In life, some things only came around once. As they neared her favorite city and the plane began its descent, Nicki felt sure that Julian proposing to her was one of those things.
Chapter 10
There were some things that money—even a lot of it—couldn’t buy. Like one’s way out of a traffic jam on the Triborough Bridge caused by an accident blocking all lanes. While the women attended the fashion show, the men were headed to a business meeting/national strategy session/fund-raiser for Niko’s senatorial campaign. Julian was calm, as usual. His brothers? Not as much. Ike Jr. and Atka talked business, but after every few sentences they’d bring up the delay. Terrell fidgeted. Niko constantly checked his watch. Ike Sr. exchanged trivialities with Quinn’s father, Glen.
During a break in their conversation, Julian tapped his dad. “I have a question.”
“Yes, son?”
“How familiar are you with Claude Johnson?”
“The psychiatrist?” Julian nodded. Ike Sr. shrugged. “About as familiar as I am with most people in Paradise Cove who’ve lived there most of their lives. Chatted at a few chamber meetings, maybe a couple times at the club. Fortunately haven’t had the need to schedule an appointment yet.” Ike Sr. chuckled. Julian smiled. “Why do you ask?”
Julian told his dad about Natalie’s visit and accusations. “It’s almost as if she’s trying to create the illusion of something that isn’t there, like I’m purposely trying to sabotage her father’s practice.”
“Is it true? Have some of his patients left his practice and come to you?”
“Yes, but not enough to warrant her egregious attacks.”
Ike Sr. rubbed his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he pondered the situation. “I do recall some type of scandal a while back involving one of his patients. Jennifer most likely could fill in the details. That woman has a way of knowing just about everything that goes on in our town. Junior.” Ike Jr. looked over with brow raised. “Do you remember what happened with Claude Johnson around four or five years ago?”
“The doctor?” Ike Jr. asked.
“He was charged with writing fake prescriptions. Supplying medication beyond the scope of his practice to patients he barely treated and some not at all,” Niko said.
“Unfortunately, that’s a lucrative market,” Terrell said. “On the streets, some can pay as much as thirty dollars a pill.”
“How do you know anything about him?” Ike Jr. asked Niko. Ike Sr. looked as if he wanted to know that, too. In fact, every eye in the limo was now trained on the mayor. “That I know about it is only a fluke. The attorney who helped squash the story and clean up the mess is married to Greg’s sister.”
“The city’s finance director?” Ike Sr. asked.
Niko nodded. “Small world.”
Julian asked the question on everyone’s mind. “What happened?”
“Ultimately, the case got thrown out. The main pieces of evidence were obtained illegally, without the proper search warrant. He got written up on some lesser action but was allowed to keep his license. Obviously.”
“So that’s why,” Julian mused.
“Why what?” Niko and the rest hadn’t heard what Julian had shared with his father.
Julian shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Why his daughter is upset that Julian has opened a practice in town,” Ike Sr. shared.
“No, she’s probably upset at not getting more alimony.” Said without even looking up as Terrell texted on his phone.
“I asked about that, at least indirectly. Commented on the fact that she was married, giv
en the new last name, and that she’d moved back to PC. All she said about her divorce was that it was a long story.”
“From what I heard, when it comes to the telling, looks like her husband won. But she came back and opened a business. Can’t be doing too bad. Where’d you run into her, Julian? And with all the work you’re putting into your own practice, when did you have the time?”
“Irony. Went online and did a search for staffing companies. Contacted the one that was in PC. Wasn’t until they called back and I recognized her voice that I learned it was Natalie’s company.”
“That’s right, you would know her. She was a year behind me and one ahead of you.”
“Yep.”
“I’d be careful around her if I were you,” Terrell cautioned. “She might be trying to set up a lawsuit and get some Drake dollars to supplement her income.”
Julian nodded and remained quiet as the conversation shifted and traffic on the bridge began to move faster. He was already one step ahead of Terrell. Because when it came to caution regarding Natalie Moore, his brother hadn’t said nothing but a word.
* * *
She’d never seen anything like it. The glitz. The glam. Bright lights and beautiful people. She’d spent her whole life in New York, liked clothes as much as the next girl. Had passed by the Fashion Institute of Technology dozens of times and shopped Fifth Avenue stores. But she’d never before considered the actual world of fashion. From where she sat, it was as dazzling, entertaining and fun as a Broadway show.
From the third row of an old synagogue, among a crowd that was standing room only, Nicki took in the high-tech fashion show. Neon lasers, pulsating music and plastic shaped into clothing and made to look like stained glass set the tone for Ace Montgomery’s second offering of women’s wear called OTB Her. OTB stood for Out of the Box. She remembered that from last year’s billboards of London plastered all over town. That was when he’d introduced a collection for women, with London being the face for his line. Now, as then, she commanded the show. Any doubters need look no further than the show’s finale. London wore a beautifully painted stained-glass maxi that lit up on the runway when she reached midway. The crowd’s cheers turned to roars when she spun to reveal glass shoes that lit up as well.