Blitzing Emily

by Julie Brannagh

  “Keep talking to me, sugar. You don’t look like any delivery person I’ve ever seen.”

  She’d have to marshal enough brainpower to answer. It was all she could do not to close her eyes. “My sister Amy owns a flower shop. She needed a driver. It beats the hell out of sitting around at home watching reality TV.”

  “That’s nice of you. What’s her shop called?” The dimple in his left cheek flashed as he grinned at Emily. He turned into the emergency room’s driveway.

  “Crazy Daisy. It’s on Broadway,” she said.

  “I’ll have to remember that.” He came to a halt in front of the sliding front doors, threw the car into park, hopped out, and hurried around to open Emily’s door.

  “Easy,” he said, and reached in to unsnap her seat belt. He also grabbed her handbag off the floorboard.

  Brandon was all business. “Here. Take my hand.” Emily clutched his bigger, slightly rougher hand. He eased her out of the seat. She tried to stand on her own but swayed again. He glanced around, frowned a little, and told her, “No wheelchairs, damn it. I think you need a ride.” He scooped her up once more.

  “I can do this myself.” She could barf on his shoes, too.

  “And have you pass out on the sidewalk and hit your head again? My mama taught me better than that. I’m already in enough trouble.”

  Brandon strode into the emergency room. Every time Emily had visited a hospital emergency room in the past, no one had rushed unless a patient was bleeding from multiple places. Maybe the key was being carried in by a big jock in sweaty workout clothes. Nurses scurried toward her.

  “What do we have here?” one of them asked Brandon.

  “She decided to try ice skating in stiletto heels. She’s bleeding a little.”

  “We’ve got a room with her name on it.”

  They were shown to a dimly lit room painted the shade of Silly Putty and dominated by monitors, IV medication pumps, a rolling cabinet with clean linens, and a computer setup. Brandon laid Emily down on a narrow bed. He dropped her purse next to her.

  “No sleeping,” he warned again, pulling a chair up beside her. He threw himself down in it. They didn’t have long to wait. A doctor breezed through the doorway.

  “Hi, there. I’m Dr. Su. What have we got?”

  “This is Emily. She wiped out on some ice in the parking lot,” Brandon explained.

  The doctor moved closer and pulled a small flashlight out of his breast pocket. “Emily.” He sat down on a rolling examination chair as he took her hand. “I’ll bet you think you’re the first person I’ve seen today who had an encounter with some ice.”

  Emily glanced over at Brandon, and he gave her a reassuring smile. She tried to look pitiful in response. She turned her head and focused on the doctor again.

  “I’ll bet none of them were wearing a thousand dollars’ worth of Italian leather boots at the time.”

  While she spoke, the doctor examined the back of her head, shone a light in her eyes, and said, “How many fingers, Emily?” He held up two.

  “Three,” Emily responded. Brandon let out what sounded like a groan.

  “That’s never happened to me before,” he muttered.

  “Are you sleepy? Nauseated? Have a headache? Follow my fingers, okay?” He asked the same questions Brandon did. They didn’t sound any better the second time.

  “I mostly feel stupid.”

  She glanced over to see Brandon eying the clock on the wall in the opposite corner of the room. His eyes slid back to her, but he seemed distracted.

  “I’ll be fine. It’s okay if you leave,” she said.

  “No, no,” Brandon insisted, but he looked at the clock once more. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Just to be safe, Emily, I’m ordering a CT scan. We’re also going to stitch that cut. Sit tight for a few minutes, and I’ll send the nurse in to start this process.”

  Emily tried to sit up. “I’m fine. I have to make some other deliveries for Amy. I . . .” The room spun around. The doctor caught her just before she fell off the side of the narrow bed.

  Brandon jumped out of the chair and arrived at her bedside in one long stride. He pulled up the bedside railings. “Doctor, may I talk with you in the hallway for a moment?”

  Emily heard only broken bits of their discussion. It didn’t sound positive. Brandon gestured toward the room a few times with his hand while they talked. The noise in the hallway finally dropped a little and she could listen in.

  “Look, Doc, I’m late. I want to stay, but I really can’t,” Brandon said.

  “Emily needs . . .” but whatever it was the doctor thought she needed was drowned out by yet more voices, one high-pitched and panicky, from an adjoining room.

  “If you tell us what you took, we won’t tell anyone else. We need to know before we can treat you.”

  “I can’t talk about it.”

  “You’re going to have to talk about it at some point. You’re not the first guy that showed up at this hospital after an erection of more than four hours. Did you take something besides an ED drug? Recreational drugs? Did you drink alcohol tonight? This isn’t a joke.”

  “It’s Valentine’s Day. My girlfriend expected something special.”

  “She’d like it better if you both were around next Valentine’s Day, too.”

  A nurse shut the sliding glass door in Emily’s room, pulling a floor-to-ceiling cloth curtain around the bed Emily lay in.

  “The admitting person will be here shortly, but let’s get you into a stylish hospital gown while we wait.”

  The nurse was tall and stocky. She wore her hair in a long, dark pigtail. She had what appeared to be a permanent grin, and her nametag read “Cheryl.” She undressed Emily with a speed and gentleness that showed many years of practice. Emily pushed her arms through the hospital gown sleeves, and the nurse draped a warm, fluffy cotton blanket over her as she lay down again.

  “It’s just like the day spa.”

  “Those boots must have been gorgeous before the heel snapped off.”

  “Thinking about how much they cost makes my headache worse.”

  “So, Emily, how’s your pain level on a scale of one to ten?”

  “My head’s a seven. The boots are a twenty.”

  “Isn’t that Brandon McKenna of the Sharks?”

  “I picked him up in the parking lot,” Emily sighed.

  It was increasingly evident that Emily needed a ride home. After hearing a little of Brandon’s conversation, he wasn’t going to be around. There were signs all over the hospital stating that the use of cell phones was not allowed. The TV remote control fastened to the side of the bed didn’t have texting capability, either.

  “I’d like to call a friend. Is there a telephone I can use?”

  Cheryl must have misheard her. “We don’t allow non-family members in here, unfortunately. Your valentine is on his way to the waiting room.”

  Family member, Emily thought. “Valentine” wasn’t exactly a family member, but she needed to get Brandon back in here. If she could find someone to pick her up, he’d be able to leave.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “You know,” Emily said, “You’re right. It’s a special day, and I really want to spend some time with him. Is there any possible way he could sit with me while I’m waiting?”

  Cheryl winked at her. “For today, I’ll make an exception. To the rest of the hospital, he’s your fiancé. You just relax. He’ll be here in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

  Cheryl sped out of the room. Emily craned her neck to glimpse Brandon standing at the nurse’s station in the midst of a crowd of people, signing autographs.

  Moments later Brandon walked into the room. To Emily’s relief, he was grinning like everything and everyone existed solely to amuse him. He sat down on the rolling examination chair the doctor had vacated.

  “Well. Aren’t you the shameless hussy. We haven’t even had dinner yet, and you told the nurse w
e were engaged.” He raised an eyebrow. “What do you do on the second date? File for divorce?”

  “I should have told her you were my baby daddy . . .”

  “And here I thought I was so irresistible.” He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. “Mmm. Red.”

  Speaking hurt, but Emily had to make him understand. “I really appreciate your driving me over here, but let’s get real. You obviously have other plans tonight, and I need to call someone to come and get me. You’ve been looking at the clock since we got here.”

  Brandon looked a bit uncomfortable and shifted on the chair. “You’ve got me. I have plans. I could cancel them, but I left my phone in my locker.”

  Emily produced her iPhone from her purse and handed it to him. “If you make a call for me, you can go. Here, just a minute.” She took the phone out of his hand and scrolled through her contacts list. “My sister is busy, but one of my friends might be available. If you’ll call Sarah—I work with her—she doesn’t live far away, and she might be able to pick me up and drop me off at home.” She nodded at the sign. “You’ll need to go outside.”

  “Got it.” He fiddled with the phone for a few seconds, and handed it back to her. “I have a BlackBerry. How do you use this thing again?”

  It was a good thing he was handsome, because he evidently wasn’t that smart. Emily hit the keys on the display again. “If you push this, the phone will dial. Ask Sarah to come and get me.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “That whole joking about being engaged thing is not going to be a problem for you, is it?”

  He shrugged. “Only on a slow news day. Plus, if anything weird happens, I can deal with it.”

  Emily tried to shake her head and winced. Obviously she was a public person, too. There’d be a little interest in Emily’s engagement, but Brandon was evidently some kind of big deal. This was a hospital, though. That stuff was confidential.

  “I’m betting you have one hell of a headache. Rest.” He reached out to pull the blanket up beneath her chin. “I’ll get you some water.”

  “I’m so sleepy,” she told him. “I don’t understand why you’re still here.”

  “You fell down. It’s my fault. I want to make sure you’re safe.”

  “I’ll be fine. You can go,” she insisted. “Isn’t that what you want?”

  Emily wanted to go home and soak in a hot bath. That bath was assuming mythical proportions by this point.

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Brandon rose from the chair, stroked her cheek, tossed a “See ya” over his shoulder, and loped out of the room.

  Brandon reappeared less than five minutes later.

  “Sarah’s busy. Her boyfriend answered the phone. I believe the message was ‘She’d have to get out of my bed for that, and it’s not happening tonight.’ So, I cancelled my plans, and I will chauffeur you home.”

  “Let me see if I can find someone else.”

  “Not going to happen, sugar. Everyone is out with their valentine, or they’re staying in and not answering the phone.”

  “I can do this.” She took the phone out of his hand and started scrolling through names. “I . . . Stop calling me sugar.”

  He laughed. It wasn’t that damn funny.

  Two male nurses walked into the room. “Emily, we’re here to take you upstairs for some tests. I’m Kevin, and this is Jeff.” Kevin glanced at the phone in Emily’s hand. “You’ll need to put that away,” he scolded.

  Emily didn’t remember much of the tests she had. She did remember, however, the stitches she received in the cut on her head. Cheryl the nurse produced two ibuprofens and a cup of cold water as a reward. Emily awoke once more in the dimness of the emergency room cubicle Brandon still sat in. The doctor was talking with him.

  “I was at the Minutemen’s game last season,” he told Brandon. “That was quite a sack at the end of the third.”

  “What’s a sack?” Emily murmured to Brandon.

  His brows drew together, his lips twitched into a smile, but he didn’t answer her.

  “I enjoyed it, that’s for sure.” Brandon told him. “I’d like to take my girl home, if that will work for you.”

  He set a Styrofoam cup and the newspaper sports page he held on a low rolling table and waited expectantly.

  “Shall I tell you the good news or the bad news first?” Dr. Su grinned with what he probably thought was quite a joke.

  “Let’s go with the good news.” Brandon patted Emily’s hand as he spoke.

  “Hospital cuisine has improved.” Everyone was a comedian. “However, Emily is going to have to stay overnight with us.”

  Chapter Two

  * * *

  “DOCTOR, I CAN’T do that. Since the tests are fine, I’d like to go home.” Emily was having no part of the doctor’s orders. She looked like someone ran over her skateboard. She even managed to work up a couple of tears, which glistened in her amber-brown eyes. Brandon had spent less than two hours with this woman, and he already knew the doctor didn’t stand a chance. In the dictionary under the word “intractable” there was a photo of Emily.

  “We’d rather you stayed here.” Dr. Su was still talking. Well, perhaps it should have been called “negotiating.” Maybe Emily was available for Brandon’s upcoming contract discussions. He’d love to see what would happen when she went up against the Sharks’ owners. Then again, it wouldn’t be a fair fight. Emily was as lovely as she was hard-headed.

  “I live in Redmond. It’s ten miles away or so,” she said.

  The doctor caved. “If you really want to go home, you can. But you’ll need to be watched by another adult for the next twelve to twenty-four hours. This is non-negotiable. You won’t be able to do anything but relax. No driving, no working, no nothing.”

  “We could call your sister,” Brandon told Emily. “She’ll come over.”

  “This is the busiest day of the year for her. She can’t come over . . .”

  Emily was clutching her head again. Brandon knew she had to have one hell of a headache. If there was one thing all football players had in common it was the fact that every one of them, at one time or another, had suffered a concussion. She looked at him pleadingly. He could never resist a somewhat helpless female. Emily really couldn’t be called helpless, though. One minute she was tougher than Dallas’s defense; a minute later she was all sad golden eyes, fluttering lashes, and quivering lips. There wasn’t a man in the universe that could hope to withstand what she dished out.

  “No problem,” Brandon interrupted. “I’ll just stay over.”

  Emily’s eyes got huge, but she said nothing. She opened her mouth, quickly clamping it shut when he caught her eye and gave her a barely noticeable head shake.

  He’d spend a couple of hours doing the gentlemanly thing. If he moved his ass, he could salvage his evening’s plans as well. It was a win-win. If it got him laid in the next twenty-four hours, even better.

  Dr. Su shook Emily’s hand. “It was nice to meet you both. I’ll send the nurse in with discharge instructions. Take it easy. You’ll feel much better in a day or so.”

  Emily waited until the doctor left the room before glancing up at Brandon. “If you’ll get me home, I can take care of the rest.”

  She evidently wanted to get away from him as much as he wanted to leave, so at least they were even. Another commotion in the doorway revealed Cheryl, the nurse. The discharge instructions were given more to him than to Emily, verbally and in print. Lucky him.

  “Emily can have ibuprofen for her headache every four to six hours,” she said. “She had some an hour ago. You’ll need to wake her up every couple of hours and talk with her. If she has double vision, if you can’t wake her up easily, or if she is not making sense when she speaks, she will need to come back to the hospital immediately.”

  Brandon was nodding as if he actually planned on staying with her. Mostly, he wanted to leave. Hospitals reminded him of injuries, and injuries were something he didn’t want to
be reminded of at all.

  “Let’s get you ready to go,” Cheryl said to Emily.

  She pulled Emily’s clothing off a hanger in a concealed closet. Brandon ducked behind the sports page once more, but Emily gave him a glare that could melt steel.

  “Don’t look,” she said.

  “Oh, I’m not,” but it was all he could do not to laugh.

  Brandon had known a lot of women since he was old enough to notice. He loved them, and they loved him back. It was as certain in his life as the sunrise each morning. At the same time, Emily was an odd combination of vulnerability and drill sergeant. He wasn’t sure what to think of her.

  The nurse was getting in on the act, too: “No funny business. She needs rest.”

  Brandon was a little stunned. Here he was doing his Boy Scout good deed for the day, but it still didn’t vouch for either his character or his upbringing. Then again, his mama would be doubled over with laughter right now.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, ma’am.” He arched one brow.

  “Don’t start with me.” Cheryl wagged one finger in his general direction, and indicated the wheelchair by the door. “Let’s go for a little ride, Emily. Mr. McKenna, please get your vehicle.”

  Brandon sprinted down the hallway and vanished through the double doors leading to the waiting room. Get in Emily’s car, get on the road, and he could call his date for the evening from the cab he’d be leaving Emily’s place in.

  Emily waited on the sidewalk with the nurse.

  “Thank you, Cheryl.” Brandon extended his hand to her. “I’ll take it from here.”

  “You will drive safely on the way home,” Cheryl said.

  “My mama must have called you.” He took Emily’s elbow as he led her to her car. “Come on, sugar. Let’s go.”

  “I NEED SOME directions to your place,” Brandon said.

  Emily was fiddling with her phone, and frowning a little.