Whatever You Like
Page 12
“Calm down,” Roderick murmured.
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Lena snapped. “My grandfather is an eighty-year-old man who’s already suffered a massive stroke that left him bound to a wheelchair. The last thing he needs is another injury to further weaken his body, not to mention his psyche!”
“I wasn’t trivializing your concern,” Roderick said evenly. “I told you to calm down because having a panic attack won’t do you any good.”
“Since when do you care about what’s good for me?” Lena jeered, her voice filled with bitter accusation. “This whole weekend was all about you, not me. You and your damn needs. I told you I had other obligations, but you wouldn’t listen!”
Instead of defending himself, Roderick gazed at her with those dark, penetrating eyes that discerned way too much. “You shouldn’t feel guilty because you weren’t there, Lena. Unless you attach yourself to your grandfather’s hip—”
Lena lunged to her feet impatiently. “I don’t have time for this! I need to get back to Chicago.”
As she strode toward the bathroom, she suddenly remembered that they were on a boat out in the middle of Lake Michigan. Swearing profusely, she drew up short and whirled around. “How long will it take us to get back to Chicago?”
“Not long,” Roderick assured her, throwing back the covers and rolling out of bed. “We’ll take the helicopter.”
For once, she was glad he had a solution to everything.
Lena told herself to keep her emotions in check for her grandfather’s sake. But when she arrived at the hospital and saw him lying in bed, looking frail and battered with one arm elevated in a cast and IV tubes snaking out of the other arm, her mind flashed back to the terrible day three years ago when she’d received the news about his stroke. Fearing the worst outcome that day, she’d caught the first flight home and rushed straight to the hospital, wondering whether she’d make it in time to say goodbye to her grandfather.
As if sensing her presence in the doorway, Cleveland opened his eyes and slowly turned his head to look at her. He mustered a feeble smile. “There she is,” he greeted her in a thin, raspy voice. “There’s my baby girl.”
“Poppa.” Tears blurred Lena’s vision as she hurried to his bedside and leaned down to hug him as gingerly as her overwrought emotions would allow.
“Now, now,” Cleveland soothed, reaching around to awkwardly pat her back with his good arm. “Don’t you start all that boo-hooing or you’ll get your sister going again. She’s been in the bathroom for the past twenty minutes trying to compose herself.”
Lena didn’t know whether to laugh or sob. “I was so worried about you!”
Cleveland clucked a tongue. “No need for that. I’m just fine, as you can see.”
Lena sniffed, taking in his ashen complexion, rheumy eyes, sunken cheeks and plastered arm. “With all due respect, Poppa, you look anything but fine.”
He smiled softly at her. “Can’t say the same about you, though. You look pretty as a picture, baby girl. And unless my eyes are deceiving me, your face is glowing.”
“Your eyes are deceiving you,” Lena retorted, even as heat suffused her cheeks. No way could her grandfather tell, just by looking at her, that she’d spent the past day and a half having the best sex of her life. And no way was she telling him.
She brushed a gentle hand over his warm forehead and frowned. “You have a fever.”
He grimaced. “I know. And before you start fretting, the doctor says it’s normal to run a fever after suffering an injury. It’s the body’s way of coping with the trauma.”
“How did this happen, Poppa?” Lena demanded. “How on earth did you break your arm?”
Before he could respond, the bathroom door opened and Morgan walked out. Her puffy, red-rimmed eyes confirmed that she’d been crying.
Lena’s heart constricted with tender sympathy. Morgan was the one who’d found their grandfather sprawled on the floor after he suffered a stroke, so receiving the emergency phone call from Lakeview Manor this morning had probably given her horrible flashbacks.
“Hey, you’re here,” she said to Lena.
“I’m here.” When Morgan reached her, Lena hugged her around the waist and gently searched her face. “You okay?”
“Sure,” Morgan said ruefully, hitching her chin toward their grandfather. “But I’m not the one in traction. So has he told you yet?”
“Told me what?” Lena asked, dividing a wary glance between her sister and grandfather.
“Has he told you how he broke his arm? I’ve been trying to get a straight answer out of him since he woke up from surgery.”
Lena frowned at her grandfather. “What’s going on, Poppa? You know I’m going to interview everyone at the retirement home to find out what happened this morning. If you’re trying to protect someone—”
Cleveland grimaced. “No, no, no. Nothing like that. I was waiting for you to arrive so I could tell both of you at the same time.”
“Tell us what?” the sisters echoed in unison.
An excited gleam filled Cleveland’s eyes. “The Lord has answered our prayers. When I woke up early this morning, I felt a tingling sensation in my left leg. Oh, it’s happened once or twice before, but this time it was different. Stronger. It reminded me of that burning sensation you get in your fingers and toes after they’ve gone numb from frostbite. But once you get inside where it’s nice and warm, they start thawing out and tingling as the feeling returns.” He paused, a broad grin sweeping across his face. “That’s what I experienced this morning. I felt the numbness wearing off my bad leg.”
“Oh, Poppa.” A lump had lodged in Lena’s throat. She and Morgan reached for each other’s hands and squeezed.
“But that’s not even the best part.” Cleveland’s voice had grown stronger, his eyes brighter. Even his coloring had dramatically improved. “I kept lying there in bed, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for the tingling sensation to go away. But it didn’t. So you know what I did?”
Lena and Morgan leaned forward with riveted expressions.
Cleveland grinned. “I rolled myself into an upright position. Well, about as upright as I could manage. Then I took a deep breath, said a prayer—and pushed myself to my feet.”
The two sisters gasped.
“Poppa!” Morgan cried excitedly. “You didn’t!”
“I did,” Cleveland asserted, beaming with pride. “I stood on that tingling leg for a good while, just waiting for it to give out on me. It didn’t. So I took another deep breath, said another prayer. And I stepped forward.”
Lena and Morgan squealed, tears streaming down their faces.
“Three,” Cleveland said, holding up the corresponding number of fingers. “I took three steps across the room before the leg buckled under me. I went down like a felled tree. Unfortunately, I landed awkwardly on my arm and broke it.”
“Oh, Poppa,” his granddaughters chorused sympathetically.
Almost at once they began fussing over him, checking his IV fluids, giving him a drink of water, adjusting his blanket and making sure he was comfortable.
When the flurry of activity was over, Morgan settled into a visitor chair at the foot of the bed while Lena claimed the bedside one.
“So what did your doctor say?” Morgan asked Cleveland. “Does this mean you’re going to walk again?”
He made a face. “You know how these doctors are. They don’t want to get their patients’ hopes up, so they downplay everything. He says he’s cautiously optimistic, but even he admits that what I experienced this morning is one hell of a breakthrough. Now Margaret—er, Nurse Jacobs,” he amended when Lena and Morgan exchanged knowing glances, “she’s very excited about what happened. She’s a God-fearing woman, so she knows miracles can happen. After she lectured me for trying to walk without anyone around to assist me, she promised to show me some safe exercises that we can do in therapy while I’m stuck wearing this cast. Once it comes off, it’s full steam ahead.”
“So do I,” Cleveland admitted with a rueful grimace. “But as the saying goes: No pain, no gain.”
Lena smiled. “That’s what they say.”
“Anyway, enough about me. How was your trip?”
“My t-trip?” she stammered, flushing.
“Yeah. Morgan says you had to go out of town unexpectedly.”
“Oh. Right. I did.” Not now. Please, God, not now. “You know, Poppa, you should probably get some rest. You had surgery this morning, and I’m sure the painkillers they gave you are making you drowsy. You were dozing off when I arrived.”
To her relief, Cleveland nodded in agreement. “It has been an eventful day. But I don’t—” He broke off abruptly, staring over her shoulder in surprise.
Even before Lena turned around, she knew Roderick had appeared in the doorway. She’d specifically told him to stay in the waiting room, but she should have known he wouldn’t listen to her, just as he’d insisted on escorting her to the hospital and taking her home afterward.
“Say, I know who you are,” Cleveland exclaimed. “I see your picture in the paper all the time. You’re—”
“Roderick Brand,” Morgan breathed, her eyes wide as saucers in her face.
Roderick flashed a smile at her, but his attention was on Cleveland, who was staring at him with unabashed curiosity. “I hope I’m not interrupting—”
“Not at all,” Cleveland said easily, though he had to be wondering why one of Chicago’s wealthiest residents was standing in the doorway of his hospital room. He looked askance at Lena, who was blushing furiously and wishing some mythical creature would swoop in on giant wings and whisk her away from there.
As comprehension dawned, Cleveland gaped at Roderick, his snowy eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “You’re here with Lena?”
Roderick smiled. “Yes, sir. I am.”
“Well.” I’ll be damned, the unspoken words echoed in the stunned silence that followed. This time Lena simply prayed for the ground to open up and swallow her whole.
“Well, don’t just stand there.” Recovering from his shock, Cleveland waved Roderick into the room with his good arm. “Come join the party.”
Lena leveled a glare at Roderick as he approached the hospital bed.
Deliberately ignoring her, he reached out and grasped her grandfather’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Morrison.”
“Same here, young man. Got a good handshake there. Confident. Strong.” Cleveland sounded as impressed as he looked.
“Thank you, sir,” Roderick said lazily. “Yours ain’t too bad either.”
“For an old-timer, you mean?”
Roderick grinned, and Cleveland let out an appreciative bark of laughter.
Lena caught Morgan’s meaningful look and just shook her head, as if to say Don’t ask. She hoped Roderick had a damn good reason for doing this to her, though she couldn’t fathom what would justify him putting her on the spot like this.
“Hi, Roderick.” Impatient with her sibling’s lack of manners, Morgan stood and initiated her own introduction. “I’m Lena’s sister—”
“Morgan.” He smiled, shaking her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“All good, I hope?” Morgan grinned, flirting shamelessly.
Roderick chuckled. “All good.”
Morgan beamed at him. “Poppa was right. You do have a nice handshake.”
Lena rolled her eyes. “Down, girl.”
Morgan made a face at her.
Grinning, Roderick returned his attention to Cleveland. “I’m sorry about your accident, Mr. Morrison. How’re you feeling?”
“Right now? I feel just dandy. Talk to me later when the meds wear off.” His eyes twinkled with mirth. “You ever broken an arm or a leg, Roderick?”
“Yes, sir. Broke my arm playing football in high school.”
Cleveland sized him up. “Wide receiver?”
“That’s right.”
“Were you any good?”
Roderick shrugged. “I was decent.”
“Come on,” Cleveland guffawed. “I bet you’re just being modest. Guy your size? With those hands? I bet you were named All-State and had college recruiters fighting over you.”
Roderick smiled. “I may have received one or two scholarship offers.”
Cleveland grinned. “That’s probably another understatement, but okay, I’ll play along. So what happened? You broke your arm and decided football wasn’t for you?”
“Poppa!” Lena chided, throwing an apologetic glance at Roderick. “I’m sure Mr. Brand didn’t come here to be interrogated.”
“I don’t mind,” Roderick drawled, his eyes glimmering with laughter. “To answer your question, Mr. Morrison, I never intended to pursue a career in professional football. It wasn’t my passion. Running my own company someday? That got my juices flowing.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Lena could see Morgan’s lips curving in a slow, lascivious grin. Apparently Lena wasn’t the only one whose hormones had reacted to Roderick’s use of the words passion and juices flowing in the same breath. Her “juices” hadn’t stopped flowing since she met him.
“I can definitely respect that,” Cleveland was saying. “It takes a lot of courage to go after what you want.”
“Persistence helps, too,” Roderick added, flicking a glance at Lena that was so subtle she wondered if she was the only one who’d caught it.
Cleveland smiled affably. “It’s rewarding when your persistence pays off, as yours obviously has.”
Lena shot a stricken look at her grandfather, relieved when she realized that he was referring to Roderick’s company—not her. “I understand that you’ve recently expanded into the Japanese energy market,” Cleveland continued. “That was quite a deal you landed. Congratulations.”
Roderick smiled. “Thank you, sir. I had an angel on my side,” he murmured, giving Lena another one of those secret looks.
“One of my comrades at the retirement home is a big fan of yours,” Cleveland said, seemingly unaware of the undercurrents between Roderick and his granddaughter. “Abraham’s the one who got me into reading the Wall Street Journal and Financial Times. When you were named Businessman of the Year, Abraham was so excited you’d have thought his first grandchild had just been born. Come to think of it, I don’t even think he broke out cigars for that occasion.”
Roderick chuckled. “He sounds like quite a character.”
“Oh, he is,” Cleveland agreed with a laugh. “If you ever met him, the first thing he’d do is give you pointers on how to run your business. Doesn’t matter how much he admires and respects you. He just has to throw in his two cents. He does the same thing with Lena’s singing.”
“Singing?” A spark of interest lit Roderick’s eyes as he looked at Lena. “I didn’t know you could sing.”
An embarrassed flush crawled up her neck. “Everyone can sing. Some better than others. I fall into the ‘others’ category.”
“What?” Cleveland laughingly scoffed at the suggestion. “Don’t listen to her, Roderick. She’s just taking a page from your modesty playbook. My baby girl sings like a bird. Which is no surprise, considering who she’s named after.”
Roderick smiled slowly at her. “You’re named after Lena Horne?”
She nodded, grinning wryly. “No pressure, right?”
“You should ask Lena to sing ‘Stormy Weather’ for you. Or ‘Love Me or Leave Me.’ Ooo-wee.” Cleveland laughed, shaking his head. “She’ll have you wrapped around her little finger after that.”
Roderick smiled faintly. “I think she already does,” he murmured, holding Lena’s gaze.
She swallowed, then swallowed again when the knot in her throat wouldn’t dissolve.
Cleveland looked from one to the other with
undisguised interest. “So where did you two meet anyway?”
The blood drained from Lena’s head. “Meet?” she croaked.
“Yeah.” Cleveland smiled whimsically. “No offense, baby girl, but I didn’t realize you traveled in the same social circles as billionaire CEOs. So I’m just curious about how you and Roderick met.”
“Oh.” She licked her dry lips. “We, ah…”
Roderick watched her, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“We met, um, at—”
From the foot of the bed, Morgan went into a violent coughing paroxysm that drew her grandfather’s concerned gaze. “Are you okay?” he asked her. “You need some water?”
Morgan gasped, vigorously nodding her head.
“Lena, pour your sister some water.”
Lena jumped up, only too happy to do as he’d told her. As she handed the plastic cup to her sister, she mouthed, Thank you.
Eyes glimmering with mischief, Morgan mouthed back, You owe me.
I know, Lena replied.
Turning back toward their grandfather, she announced briskly, “All right, Poppa, we’re going to leave now so you can get some sleep.”
Cleveland frowned. “But—”
“No buts. You’ve had a long day, and you really need to rest. But don’t worry. Morgan and I will be here when you wake up later. We’ll get something from the cafeteria and have dinner with you. Okay?” Not giving him a chance to argue, she leaned down and kissed his forehead, then gave Morgan and Roderick a look that warned them there’d be hell to pay if they didn’t follow her out of the room. Now.
Roderick chuckled softly. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Morrison.”
“Same to you, son. Say, do you have a pen? I’d love to have you autograph my cast.”
Ignoring the dirty look Lena gave him, Roderick smiled. “Sure. I’d be honored.”
Cleveland grinned broadly. “When Abraham finds out that I met you, he’s gonna be so jealous. Lena, give the man a pen.”
“Sorry, Poppa. I don’t have one.”
“I do!” Morgan piped up, earning a glare from her sister.
As Roderick began writing on the cast, Cleveland glanced up at his granddaughters. “He’ll be out in a minute,” he said, all but shooing them out the door.