by Brenda Novak
“I told you how much she admires you.”
“I remember. I’m still not sure why you bothered to do that.”
“I missed out. Doesn’t mean you have to,” he said and hung up.
Brandon stared at his phone. He wanted to call Olivia one more time, to at least be able to say goodbye. But a honk let him know the car had arrived. He had to get his luggage outside or he’d be late for lunch, which could potentially make him late for the airport.
* * *
Today Brandon was leaving for Europe and his surgery. Olivia had received a text from him a few days ago telling her he’d like to stop in to say goodbye. She wanted to say goodbye to him, too, but she knew it would be too difficult to see him again, knowing what lay ahead. She was worried about his leg, about his career, about his being in Europe on his own for weeks, maybe months, while he recuperated. She hated that he hadn’t told anyone else what he was doing. That meant even his parents wouldn’t be there to support him. As far as they were concerned, he was off on another grand adventure. If anything, they felt mildly annoyed that he didn’t seem to be growing up.
She sighed as she clicked on one YouTube clip of him after another. He was truly an impressive skier. She loved watching him plunge down those treacherous mountains. He seemed able to conquer the impossible. There was an inherent thrill in seeing someone who mattered so much to her do something so magical. But she also cringed with each new descent. She knew he was addicted to the adrenaline and all the benefits the sport brought him, and if he continued, he might not survive.
Her phone rang just as she was trying to make herself go to the office. She had work to do, work that was piling up because she couldn’t seem to quit thinking about Brandon.
For a split second, she thought maybe it was him on the phone. But it wasn’t. He’d stopped calling a few days ago. This was Noelle. Her sister was trying to reach her for the first time since the wedding.
Unable to deal with Noelle on this of all days, she set her phone aside. But a minute later, she heard the buzz of an incoming text.
“What do you want?” she grumbled and checked her messages.
Brandon’s off on his Nicaragua trip for God knows how long. He probably won’t even remember your name when he gets back, her sister had written.
Noelle couldn’t seem to help herself. She just had to be spiteful.
Olivia nearly responded with some remark about the difficulty of marriage and good luck getting Kyle to give her that house in town—or earning Kyle’s love, for that matter. But her mother had told her Noelle was having a tough time adjusting to married life. Apparently stealing Kyle hadn’t brought her the happiness she’d thought it would. So, instead of unleashing all the hurtful things she was dying to say, Olivia wrote, I wish Brandon the best.
Then she went to get showered. Noelle was right on one account. Brandon would forget her soon enough.
* * *
Lunch with Scott was tense. His agent was the only one, besides Olivia, who knew that Brandon’s leg wasn’t healing properly, the one who’d arranged the operation to fix it. He had a vested interest in seeing Brandon succeed, so he clearly wasn’t happy when Brandon came toward him, unable to walk without a slight limp.
“It’s worse?” he said.
Some days, like today, the pain was so bad Brandon almost couldn’t tolerate it. “A lot worse.” He hated to hear himself say that, but there it was.
Scott cursed, looked away, then forced a smile. “Dr. Shapiro will take care of you. He’s the best leg man in the world. A real miracle-worker.”
Brandon nodded and listened as Scott detailed what they’d accomplish next season. Neither one of them admitted that, if the operation didn’t work, his career was finished. It wasn’t a possibility they could even acknowledge.
By the time the waitress brought the check, Brandon was eager for lunch to be over. He’d thought seeing Scott would be helpful, motivating, encouraging, but he found that their visit had depressed him instead. It was the worry in Scott’s eyes.
“When do you have to be at the airport?” Scott asked.
Brandon glanced at his watch. “Half an hour. We’d better go.”
They rode in silence. There wasn’t much more to say. Brandon had a rough few weeks ahead of him, with uncertainty his only companion.
When they arrived, Scott insisted on parking and taking Brandon’s luggage. That in itself told Brandon his agent was deeply concerned. How many times had Scott brought him here and dropped him at the curb?
Too many to count. But Brandon didn’t argue. He figured he’d be on his own all too soon.
They were in line at the ticket counter when he received a text from Olivia. He couldn’t believe she’d finally responded.
What she’d written came as an even bigger surprise: Before you go, I just want you to know that I’ve never felt about anyone else the way I feel about you. You own my heart, Brandon. I think you have since prom. So please, be safe. I want to see you on the slopes next fall.
“What is it?” Although Scott had been getting anxious to leave—making calls and answering texts while they waited—he was watching Brandon now, too curious to be distracted by the passing time.
“A friend,” he replied, but he realized almost as soon as those words came out of his mouth that she was much more than a friend. He’d never felt about anyone else the way he felt about her, either.
“I can help you here, sir.” The gal at the ticket counter smiled, expecting him to approach. But he couldn’t move.
“Brandon?” Scott had already dragged his luggage to the scale.
“I can’t do this,” he said, remaining right where he was.
Scott’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “What? Are you crazy?”
The reason behind the fear that had been gripping his stomach for days suddenly became clear. It wasn’t only his career he was afraid of losing. “I have to see someone.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Scott said. “See who?”
Waving the family behind him to the counter in his place, Brandon stepped out of line.
His shocked agent hurried over with his bags. “What are you doing?” he whispered. “If you miss this plane, you’ll miss your operation. And I’m not sure when we’ll be able to reschedule. This doctor is booked. Do you hear me? He’s world-famous.”
“I can’t leave her,” he said simply.
“Can’t leave who, for crying out loud?” Scott jerked on his tie, trying to loosen it. “You have to get on this plane! Do you want to ski next season or not?”
He wanted to ski. But that was no longer all he wanted. “Drive me back to Sacramento or I’ll take a cab,” he said and wrenched his suitcase from Scott’s hand.
* * *
Olivia felt much better after texting Brandon. She knew she’d probably never see him again—unless it was to bump into him occasionally while visiting Whiskey Creek. But at least she’d finally had the guts to be honest with him about her feelings. Somehow that seemed important, whether he wanted to hear what she had to say or not. It wasn’t as if she expected anything in return. She’d spoken the truth so he would know how hard she’d be praying for his health and well-being while he was gone. That was all. He needed someone to know, someone to care.
Now she’d given him that.
“Are you okay?”
She had a prospective bride in her office, looking at samples of table linens. “Of course. Why?”
The girl cocked her head. “You’ve got tears in your eyes.”
Olivia dabbed at the corners. “I was just thinking of a friend.”
“Must be a close friend.”
She nodded. As brief as her time with Brandon had been, she felt closer to him than anyone else.
She’d finished the appointment and was packing her briefcase with swatches and magazines—she had to meet another bride at River City Resort Club and Spa tomorrow morning—when she heard the buzzer that indicated someone
had walked into the small anteroom outside her office. She didn’t have any employees, couldn’t afford payroll, so she called out, “Welcome to Weddings by Olivia. I’ll be right there.”
“Could you hurry?” came the response. “I’ve got a plane to catch.”
Brandon! Olivia’s heart jumped into her throat as she scrambled around her desk.
When she reached the reception area, she saw him standing just inside the door with an exasperated-looking man wearing what appeared to be an expensive suit.
“What-what are you doing here?” she asked, glancing between them.
“I couldn’t do it,” Brandon said. “I couldn’t leave without you.”
Was she hearing him right? He seemed in earnest.... “But your… your operation!”
“It can wait.”
“Not if he wants to ski next season, it can’t,” the man he’d brought with him cut in. “But he can still make it if he’s on the next plane.”
“When does it leave?” she asked.
“In three hours.”
“I’ll only go if you go with me,” Brandon said. “Do I have any hope of talking you into that?”
“I-” Her mind whirled as she thought of her apartment, her business.
“Come here, honey,” Brandon said, reaching for her.
He didn’t have to ask twice. She walked right into his arms and pressed her body against his, so grateful to see him, to touch him, her chest ached at the prospect of letting go.
He’d come back. For her.
“I think what we feel deserves a chance,” he explained, his voice low in her ear. “I don’t want to walk away from it.”
“I’d like to be there for the operation.” She wanted nothing more than to watch over him, keep him safe. “But I have clients to take care of and rent to pay—”
The other man made a show of tapping his watch. “Maybe you could join him in a week or two.”
“Olivia, meet Scott Jones, my agent,” Brandon said. “You don’t have to listen to anything he says. Personally I’m finding that quite liberating.”
Now she understood why this other person was so upset. Brandon was risking his career by coming here. She grinned at Brandon’s tongue-in-cheek comment but spoke to Scott. “Won’t the operation be over by then?”
“You could make it for the recovery,” Scott said. “That’s the most important part, anyway.”
Not to her. She wanted to be there to support Brandon through the whole thing. She wanted to go with him now.
She could refer her clients to another planner she knew in River City. That wasn’t the tough part. The tough part was paying her rent without that income....
“He’s right,” Brandon said. “I’m being selfish. I’ve just missed you so much. If it’s too hard, you can come later.”
She considered the money in her savings account. She’d put that away to get her through difficult times, had promised herself she wouldn’t touch it except in an emergency.
Was she willing to spend it on love?
Everyone she knew would probably tell her she was being foolish, reckless. If Brandon recovered, he’d return to his career. But when she was with Kyle, and even long before that, she’d been so responsible, methodical, cautious—and that hadn’t saved her from heartbreak. If Brandon could risk his career for her, she supposed she could risk her career for him.
“I’ll throw some clothes in a bag. The rest I can handle via the internet,” she said and smiled happily as his arms tightened around her and he buried his face in her neck.
“I’ll make you glad you did,” he promised.
Epilogue
When Brandon opened his eyes, it took him a moment to remember where he was. London. The operation. Dr. Shapiro was going to take out the intramedullary rod in his leg and insert a new one.
So where was the stern-faced doctor who��d come to visit him before the anesthesiologist put him under? Brandon could see the ceiling lights of a hospital flashing overhead as two male orderlies whisked the gurney he was lying on down the hall.
Was he on his way to the operating room? If so, the anesthesia wasn’t working. That caused him a moment’s concern. But maybe he was on his way back.
“Is it…” His throat was so dry he could hardly speak. “Is it over?”
One of the orderlies tossed him a professional smile as they continued to navigate the crowded hall. “After six hours? I should hope so, Mr. Lucero,” he responded in a British accent.
Brandon searched the faces of the people who were coming and going. Most were doctors, nurses or patients. He couldn’t see Olivia, but he knew she was in the hospital, somewhere. She wouldn’t abandon him.
He also knew he wasn’t the same man he’d been even two months ago because the next question out of his mouth wasn’t whether or not he’d be able to ski again. “Where’s my girlfriend?”
“She’s waiting in your room, and we’re just getting there now.”
They slowed so they could maneuver the bed through a doorway, and Olivia hurried to reach his side. “How are you?” she asked, obviously worried as they wheeled him in.
“Better now that it’s over,” he said. “At least I hope I’m better. Have you talked to my doctor?”
“He came to see me as soon as he finished.”
“And?”
She stroked the side of his face. “It was a bone infection. He wasn’t sure how your doctor in the States missed it, considering it was so extensive. He had to scrape away the infected area and drain a couple of abscesses. But he said, with antibiotics and some physiotherapy, you should recover completely.” She pecked his lips. “We can call Scott and tell him the good news as soon as you’re not so groggy.”
He wasn’t thinking as clearly as usual, but he was clear about one thing. “Scott can wait.”
“He’s dying to hear the results.”
“But I’m not sure what the results will be.”
She straightened. “What do you mean? Everything’s going to be fine. The doctor’s sure he got it all.”
“I don’t know if I’ll try to hit the circuit next fall.”
Her jaw dropped. “Why not?”
A grin quirked his lips. “Love is making me soft, I guess.”
Obviously surprised, she took his hand.
“Skiing is no longer the most important thing to me,” he said. “You are.”
* * * * *
Join the people of Whiskey Creek again in When Lightning Strikes, coming in September 2012. Olivia’s friend Gail DeMarco has her own PR agency in L.A. and her most difficult client is actor Simon O’Neal. When she drops him, her other clients drop her, forcing Gail to make a deal with Simon—she’ll help him rehabilitate his reputation in order to save her business—and to help him regain custody of his son. Her plan involves having him marry some squeaky-clean girl who’ll drag him off to some small, obscure town.... But Simon says Gail has to be his temporary wife and Whiskey Creek his temporary home!
Keep reading for an excerpt!
Welcome to Whiskey Creek—Heart of the Gold Country!
Don’t miss Brenda Novak’s new Whiskey Creek series.
Available wherever ebooks are sold.
“Brenda Novak is a joy to read—and never more than with this new series!”
—Debbie Macomber, #1 New York Times bestselling author
When Lightning Strikes (September 2012)
When Snow Falls (November 2012)
When Night Falls (February 2013)
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1
She was ruined. She’d
become anathema—the Jerry Maguire of the Los Angeles public-relations biz. And it’d happened almost overnight.
“You don’t look so good.”
Gail DeMarco turned away from the phone she’d just hung up to focus on Joshua Blaylock. Dressed in a pair of skinny black jeans with long-toed shoes, a designer jacket and rectangular-shaped glasses, her personal assistant hovered at the corner of her desk, a hopeful yet worried expression on his face. Like her, he’d been hoping they could pull out of the nosedive she’d caused by making one impetuous call, and then a number of thoughtless statements, three weeks earlier. But she could tell Joshua had overheard enough to understand what her other employees didn’t grasp quite yet. They hadn’t just lost a few important clients, like Maddox Gill and Emery Villere; they’d lost them all. Big Hit Public Relations had fallen from its lofty perch at the top of the PR food chain to crash and burn at the bottom. And it was all thanks to one man. Simon O’Neal, the hottest male lead in the movie business, had flexed his superstar muscles and brought down her company so quickly and easily Gail could hardly believe it. She kept thinking she’d wake up to find that their feud was all a bad dream—or that others would see Simon as the train wreck she knew him to be and side with her instead. But America loved him. He was their new James Dean. He was screwing up right and left, but he had the most loyal fans in the world, fans who were as fascinated by his self-destruction as his talent.
She should never have told him she’d no longer work for him. One client after another had deserted her ever since.
But any self-respecting public-relations professional would’ve grown tired of Simon’s antics. He’d done everything she’d specifically asked him not to, created so many media nightmares, and that made her, as his personal publicist, look as bad as he did. How was she supposed to represent someone like that?
“Hello?” His smile gone, Joshua snapped his fingers in front of her eyes.
Gail forced back her tears. For more than a decade, ever since she’d graduated with a degree in advertising and public relations, then interned for Rodger Brown and Associates, she’d devoted herself to building her company. She had no husband, no kids and very few friends, at least in the L.A. area. Her ambition hadn’t allowed time for that. There was only the group of childhood friends in Whiskey Creek six hours north. She saw them every couple of months. But by and large she’d left both family and friends to make her mark in the big city. Here, her employees were closer to her than anyone else. And now she’d have to let them all go. Even Joshua.