Perfect Husband

by Leslie Johnson

  “Hello, honey,” she says sweetly as she checks my vitals, while the stranger who ran me down with his expensive car hovers close to the bed.

  She places a straw in my mouth and I suck water out of the cup greedily.

  “Slow down. We don’t want you to get sick. Small sips, and I promise you’ll be guzzling liquid in no time.”

  As much as it pains me I take the nurse’s advice and sip the cool water that tastes like it must be from the purest mountain spring. The nurse takes the water away quicker than I want her to and I stick my bottom lip out.

  She sees and giggles. “None of that. I’ve been a nurse for longer than you’ve been alive, I know what I’m talking about.” She pauses and frowns. “Well, I think that I’ve been a nurse for that long. Honey, you had no identification on you when the ambulance brought you in. There was no wallet, no ID. Nothing to identify you, and after the police questioned Mr. Strong here,” she looks up and despite her words, her expression is slightly suspicious, “we’re positive he didn’t take it from you before calling 911.”

  The man I now know as Mr. Strong lets out a snort, as if the police questioning him about stealing from me is ridiculous, and even though I don’t know him, I kind of feel the same way. He obviously has money, the car and—I run my eyes down the length of him—the clothes he wears makes it obvious that he wouldn’t need to run down a wannabe actress for extra funds.

  “Do you remember anything? Do you know who you are?”

  Mr. Strong leans in closer to hear what I have to say.

  “My name is Harbor Justice.”

  The nurse looks shocked at my name, and Mr. Strong raises an eyebrow as if he doesn’t believe me. I’m used to their reactions, it’s what happens when you grow up with a weird sounding name, so I continue. “I’m twenty-one years old and I just moved here from Podunkville, Kentucky.”

  “Why didn’t you have anything on you?” Mr. Strong asks and the nurse shoots him an evil eye.

  “I’m not really sure. I think I was robbed.” I’m pretty sure the bursts of memory are correct and I was robbed by two men, but there are pieces missing that make me not trust myself.

  “You think you were robbed?” the nurse pushes for more information.

  “I remember two men threatening me with a knife while I was waiting for someone to open my new apartment, but I don’t remember all the details. Everything seems fuzzy.”

  The nurse pats me on the hand. “Harbor, your tests show you suffered a concussion. Small memory lapses are normal and are temporary.” She rifles through my file and reads the rest of my diagnosis. “Your leg isn’t broken but it will take time to heal, so no running marathons for a while.”

  I smile at her joke and regret it immediately.

  “I’m going to give you some pain medication so you can get a good night’s sleep. Visiting hours are almost over.” She glances at Mr. Strong, who looks like he wants to argue but refrains. “It looks like you got lucky and aren’t suffering from anything major. The doctor will be in to talk to you tomorrow. The police are here and they want to get your statement, but if you’re not up to it then they’ll have to wait.” The nurse winks before putting something warm into my IV. She shoots Mr. Strong her best nurse-in-charge eye before walking out.

  The warmness she put in my IV is working fast. My eyes are getting droopy and I can barely focus on the two officers who walk into my hospital room. Mr. Strong looks anxious as he talks to them. His eyes keep darting to my bed and I want to assure him I won’t press charges. I know he didn’t hit me on purpose, but before I can speak the medicine takes me under.

  Four

  Ian

  I sip my second cup of coffee as I check my watch for the millionth time. I’ve been staring out the window of my Manhattan office since I got here three hours ago. When the police officers realized they weren’t going to get anything out of the beautiful Harbor Justice in her medication-induced sleep, the three of us exited the hospital.

  When I first explained that Harbor ran across the alleyway, and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t avoid the collision, the cops seemed hesitant to believe my story. Guilt and anger ate at me, that I’d allowed myself to get far enough stuck in the past that I wasn’t paying attention to my own driving. This whole situation is very bad for my company.

  I’m not used to being careless. I take charge, take control.

  I’m not sure what changed the minds of the police, but eventually they seemed to believe my story. Maybe it was the way I refused to leave Harbor’s side. Or because I want to ensure she receives the best quality care even though she had nothing on her to identify her health insurance company. When I gave the hospital my business card and told them to send the bill to the address on the card, Harbor’s care was greatly increased. That didn’t matter though, if Harbor wants to press charges. Even with the police on my side, there would be nothing I could do.

  The police seemed more annoyed than upset that Harbor passed out before she could give them her statement and tell them if she was going to press charges or not.

  “I’ll be back as soon as visiting hours open at eleven,” I told the lead officer.

  He smiled and said, “Have a good night. We’ll see you in the morning.”

  Good night, my ass, I scoff, the coffee making me edgy instead of alert.

  I tossed and turned all night, not able to catch even one tiny wink before calling it a waste and coming in to the office. Every time I relaxed, the sound of Harbor’s body hitting my car burst through my memory.

  Harbor has bewitched me. She is all I can think about, the only thing I see every time I close my eyes. It isn’t just her incredible looks either, there was something about the way her blue eyes held mine and exuded trust when I told her I would help her.

  I’m nervous, on edge. I hate not being in control. Hitting Harbor came at the worst time. Not that there is ever a good time to hit a person with your car. If she decides to press charges against Strong Enterprises, it will be all over the news, affect the company stocks and countless other things I’d rather not think about. It was one of the reasons I gave the hospital my card and offered to pay for all her medical costs so quickly, or at least that was what I was going to allow myself to believe. I need to convince Harbor to not press charges. It’s the only way to keep the whole incident out of the papers.

  I hope that Harbor’s story about being robbed was the truth. That would make pushing this under the rug even easier. Everyone has a price and money is never a problem for me. If Harbor is as destitute as I think she is, waving some cash in her face would banish her from my life forever.

  I hope it also banishes her from my mind.

  When I got to my office this morning, I buried myself in work. That is the system I’ve been using since I got to New York. Working and staying busy is the best way to keep my mind from wandering to where it’s forbidden. Yet today, even work won’t keep my mind off of Harbor and what could happen when I step in her hospital room at eleven sharp.

  Knowing I’m not going to get any work done, I stare out my window at the view of high rises against a blindingly blue sky, nearly the color of Harbor’s eyes. I drain my cup of coffee and crush it in my fist, squeezing it and checking the clock. It’s almost time to summon my new driver and head to the hospital. I’m done getting lost in New York and risking the possibility of running down another gorgeous female. One was enough.

  I run my fingers through my hair and tug on the ends. The not knowing part of this whole situation is driving me nuts. I like control and Harbor has stolen it from me. But I can’t blame it all on her, it was me who hit her. I just hope Harbor agrees to the money I’m going to offer her.

  Frustration rolls up my spine. I’m anxious to get this over with.

  I take a deep breath before knocking on Harbor’s hospital room door. It’s slightly ajar, and when my knuckles connect, they push it open even farther. Harbor sees me and her face registers shock before she motions me in with her hand t
hat isn’t tied to the IV.

  I smile at her and she smiles back. She’s even more beautiful than yesterday. That thought strikes me as weird since her hair is flat on one side of her head, her face is makeup free, and there is a bandage over the cut on her forehead. Still, it’s true, she is stunning sitting in her hospital bed, sipping from a straw in a Styrofoam cup.

  “Hi, Mr. Strong. I didn’t expect to see you here,” Harbor tells me, not looking weary at all, but chipper—way too chipper being she was hit by a car yesterday.

  I wonder if she is on really good pain medication, or if she hit her head harder than they first thought.

  “Please, call me Ian. And I’m here because we really didn’t get a chance to talk yesterday about what you want to do about this. Last night you told the nurse you just moved to New York. Do you have any family here?” Straight to the point is the way I work.

  Harbor smiles and takes another sip of her drink before lying back against her pillows. Looking closer, faint dark smudges under her eyes show that she is tired, yet she still manages to smile with sparkling eyes. She is fascinating.

  “I did just move here. Actually, yesterday was my first day in New York ever.” My eyebrows rise in surprise and she giggles at my reaction. “I know. It wasn’t the greatest first impression of this city.”

  “This city couldn’t give anyone a good impression if it had hundreds of chances.” I know I’m scowling but I don’t care. I refuse to pretend I like this city.

  Her smile falters and I rethink my position of pretending, but then it comes firmly back in place. “So, you have let the city jade you? I hope it takes a long time, or never for that matter, for it to harden me. I’m here because I’m an aspiring actress. My agent had three auditions set up before I even got here. Well, he did.” She frowns and her gaze falls to the bedsheets.

  “What do you mean you had auditions?” I ask, but then look at her bandaged leg and the answer comes to me. “I really didn’t mean to hit you. You came out of nowhere and I tried to avoid hitting you. I’m sorry that this mishap has ruined your chances of getting to your auditions. I’m sure there will be plenty more when you’re up and running.”

  Her smile doesn’t come back and I hold my breath, waiting for her to tell me she is pressing charges. It crosses my mind that money may not stop her from running my name through the mud. When people have the chance to hurt someone and still come out on top, they normally grab the pen and ask where to sign. The fact that I ruined her auditions when she just got here would make anyone bitter and ready to seek revenge.

  “No, no,” she says, putting her hand on mine.

  The heat of her skin seeps into mine, making me want to jerk away. But electricity is flowing between us as if we are standing on a livewire. This is dangerous, I think to myself, but I still don’t move my hand.

  “The accident had nothing to do with losing my auditions. You see, when I got here my agent, Mitch, was supposed to have someone waiting for me at my new apartment, but when I got there nobody answered the door. That was when the men assaulted me. I’ve tried calling him since I regained consciousness, but all my calls are sent to voicemail and now that’s full.”

  Anger surges through me and I want to wrap my hands around her agent’s neck. How could he leave someone so innocent and trusting alone in a nasty, soul-sucking place like New York City? She gives me a questioning look and I try to erase the anger from my face. When this is over, I’m going to pay a visit to good old agent Mitch and let him know what I think of him.

  “So, you have no one here?” I ask and a crazy idea flutters across my brain. I purposely don’t pay it any mind.

  “I don’t have anyone here and those men took everything I had. I’m lucky my cell phone was in my back pocket and they didn’t think to take it away from me.”

  I squeeze her hand and she looks at me with complete trust and the crazy idea flitters harder inside my brain. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t want to have to call my parents and tell them they were right, that I shouldn’t have moved here. I’m thinking of maybe finding a shelter I can stay at until I can get a job and another agent.”

  Her bubbly attitude is disarming after being in New York with so many jaded people. Or maybe it is just my jadedness, but I can’t believe she doesn’t hate me for ruining what was already an awful day.

  “Listen, I have an idea.” The words rush out before I can stop them like a reasonable person. “I have a huge apartment in Manhattan with more guest bedrooms than I possibly need. Why don’t you come stay in one of my extra rooms until you can get on your feet?”

  Her lush mouth pops into a beautiful, shocked little o and I resist the desire to wrap her in my arms and kiss her senseless. She starts to shake her head so I go into business mode, and I always get what I want in business mode.

  “Don’t say no. This will make me feel better about hitting you, and I refuse to allow you to stay in a shelter when this is partially my fault. Even if you decide to press charges, my house will be open to you and you can start fresh.”

  “Press charges?” Her forehead furrows and it’s adorable. “I’m not going to press charges. I know it was an accident. I was running away and should’ve been paying more attention too.”

  I let out a sigh. I had a feeling she wouldn’t press charges but hearing it out loud takes a boulder off my shoulder. Or maybe knowing this isn’t the last time I’ll be seeing her, after I convince her to move in with me was the disappearing weight. No, it was definitely the charges being dropped.

  “Then it’s settled. You have nowhere to go. I have a place for you to go, and you aren’t going to put me in any financial or public battle. We’re both doing each other a favor and I won’t take no for an answer.”

  Her face scrunches up in this adorable way and I once again refuse my need to kiss her. I give her my account-winning smile and finally she takes a deep breath and presses her head against the pillow with her eyes closed.

  I smile, knowing that I won. I knew I would.

  Five

  Harbor

  I have to keep reminding myself to breathe as Ian wheels me to his penthouse door in the wheelchair he’d shown up with at the hospital. I’m not even sure how he convinced me to move in with him until I figure out my next move, but he did. I’m pretty sure if he’d kept on talking he would have been able to make me think it was my idea.

  Before I even agreed, he smiled at me with his wide, sexy mouth and grabbed his phone to make arrangements. When I expressed the fact that I hadn’t agreed yet, his smile got even wider and he continued with his phone call.

  The thought of being dependent on Ian makes my body want to break out in hives. I’ve always been a very independent woman, and now being vulnerable to a person I just met seems wrong. My parents conceded to my independent streak a long time ago and had given up trying to get me to do as they wanted.

  I cringe as I think of my parents. If they could see me now, being wheeled from an elevator on the top floor of a fancy Manhattan apartment building by a stranger who ran me over… I force the thought away. I text my parents every night and lie to them about how well things are going, but I haven’t mentioned Ian.

  Waking up in the hospital, I knew my little affair with New York City was over. Even if I didn’t tell my parents what had happened, the hospital bills would be a good indicator. So when Ian explained he was taking care of all my medical expenses, I wanted to kiss him. Not that his generosity was the only reason for me to kiss him, he’s hot and troubled—just what every girl who moves away from home is looking for.

  Trying to be as nonchalant as possible, I turn my head and gaze up at Ian, who is pushing me along with a no-nonsense air about him. The charming smile that had me agreeing to move in with him is long gone. In fact, I haven’t seen him smile since I signed my discharge papers.

  There is no denying he has demons. Ian visited me every day during my three-day hospital stay. He was nice
enough and we would talk, but not about anything personal. Just superficial stuff. I haven’t told him everything about me, which is unusual because I’m the type of girl who spills her story to anyone. So even though I’ve spent hours with this man who I’ll now be sharing a home with, I know nothing about him.

  Ian sets the brake and unlocks the door. I don’t bother hiding a gasp when the door swings open. I knew Ian had money. The quality of clothing he wears and just the way he carries himself speak volumes of his place in society, but seeing his penthouse apartment is still a shock.

  The living room looks like something out of a movie set. Modern tones are sharpened by elegant white couches and polished glass tables.

  “Do you live here?” I ask as I scan for one thing out of place, noticing nothing.

  “Of course I do,” he answers, giving me a puzzled look.

  “I mean, do you stay here? This apartment is pristine. I feel like it’s one of those model homes they show off to get people to see the potential.”

  Ian runs his hand over the back of his neck and he won’t meet my eyes. I wonder if my question has something to do with the demons he is fighting and suddenly I feel even more nervous.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put your apartment down. It’s beautiful and I’ve never been anywhere so fancy. I’d be afraid to sit on that couch.” Inside, I’m telling myself to stop rambling but once I get going, I can’t seem to stop. “It’s just, all the white… I don’t want to sound ungrateful…” Where all my acting training has fled I’m not sure, because right now I’m acting like an amateur.

  “No, you’re right. The place doesn’t look lived in.” I watch as he scans his living room as if it’s the first time he has really looked at it. “I spend a lot of time at my office. I’m actually only here temporarily until my East Coast office takes off.”