And He Cooks Too

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And He Cooks Too Page 10

by Barbara Barrett


  “Yes, yes, I know your show,” her friend cut in. “Lucia and I try not to miss it. Even try to record it on that fancy contraption she bought me, when I remember the directions.”

  Nick turned to Reese. Under his breath he whispered, “He actually watches the show. He’s the first viewer I’ve met in the flesh.”

  “So. You’ve moved on to television, cara? Given your sit—”

  “Yes, that’s right,” she interjected before he could finish. Not only did she want to keep Nick from knowing about the blacklisting, she didn’t want the Guardinis to know she was only a production assistant. Though they were friends, it would be too easy for them to let it slip about her new job when talking with their other customers. “I’m working with Nick on a new segment they’re considering for the show. Where they follow the process of putting the show together, visiting markets like yours being one of those steps.”

  Georgio’s eyes widened. “Really?” He sought out Nick. “You’re here to tape today?” His voice had risen to an eager pitch.

  “Actually,” Nick said, “we’re trying out the idea to see if it has legs. I asked Reese to do some commentary. Do you mind?”

  Trust Nick to appeal to Georgio’s ego. But it worked, as Georgio replied, “Mind? I’ll give her pointers, if that helps.” He grabbed Nick’s hands and pumped them. “This is such an honor. Wait! Don’t start yet until I find Lucia.”

  Once Georgio was out of earshot, Reese faced Nick. “You are so bad!”

  He waggled his brows and shot her a conspiratorial smile. “Au contraire, my dear. I am that good.”

  After Georgio located his wife and introduced her to Nick, Reese went off with her to gather up the items she’d come to purchase.

  “So, cara. How long have you and that gorgeous man been an item?”

  Reese started. “Nick and I?”

  The other woman tipped her head to the side, waited for Reese to say more.

  “Tempting as the idea might be, we’re just work associates.”

  “But it seems so evident. He watched you walk away from him like he’d never set eyes on you again.”

  “You think?” Since that kiss at the comedy club, she’d been seeking clues that it had been more than a friendly contest between friends. But so far, she’d picked up on nothing. Until Lucia’s observation.

  They left Guardini’s only after they promised to return soon, when they could enjoy a more leisurely tour. Nick dropped into his seat in the town car, a broad smile on his face. “That place is a real trip.”

  “It is a little offbeat,” she admitted. “But their products are quality all the way.”

  “What I meant was the owner. I haven’t gotten the star treatment since Hollywood.”

  She placed a warning hand on his arm. “Careful. Don’t let fame go to your head yet.”

  He laughed. “Given our current ratings, there’s not much chance of that.”

  “Our next stop is Monfort Brothers Produce. The Monfort Brothers, Billy and Pudge, are the last of a dying breed of produce mongers,” she explained as the car headed farther downtown. “Physically, their operation is small, but their reputation and egos are immense.”

  The car jerked as their driver suddenly found a parking spot, then swerved sharply to pull in. Nick snaked a protective arm around Reese. “Hang on.”

  Her body went into immediate alert the instant they came into contact.

  Unfortunately, there was little time to savor the feeling, let alone do anything about it. Within seconds, the door on her side of the car opened and the driver’s hand appeared to help her alight.

  Unlike the claustrophobic atmosphere of the Guardini Market, the Monfort place, an old brick warehouse, loomed high and wide, shafts of sunbeams from upper windows cutting laser paths through the produce stands below.

  She paused just inside the entrance and scanned the main chamber. Where were they? Ah, yes, off in the distance where they seemed to be up to their usual tricks, facing off in what appeared to be another one of their arguments. “Great. I hoped for once I’d catch them in mellow moods.”

  “Who?” Nick asked, bumping into her from behind, yet again sending her body into overdrive. Was he doing that on purpose?

  She nodded toward the back of the large room filled with aisles and stacks of food products. “Them. Billy and Pudge. The Monfort Brothers.”

  “The owners, right? What’s the big deal? They’re just arguing.”

  “No time to wait for them to calm down. We have to get back for rehearsal.”

  Where Georgio and Lucia had been interested, amicable, and helpful, the Monforts were contentious, belligerent, and totally disinterested in her grocery list or helping with their research. Each brother’s attention extended only as far as his sibling.

  Nick took in the brothers’ argument. “Seems pretty clear to me. They need a referee.” He turned to her. “Why don’t you tend to the items on your list? I’ll see to the guys. Once we make happy again, we can do your commentary.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Don’t worry. I can handle them,” he called over his shoulder.

  But she did worry. Nick had no idea who he was dealing with. If the Monforts weren’t going to curtail their skirmish when they saw a customer, they certainly wouldn’t listen to a supposedly disinterested third party.

  She followed in his wake rather than start her shopping. His swagger looked kinda cute, kinda foolish as he approached the feuding siblings.

  “Gentlemen, could you spare a few minutes from your, uh, discussion, to answer a few questions?”

  The shorter and more rotund of the two brothers, that would be Pudge, halted a hand in mid-gesture to stare back at him. The other man narrowed his eyes and scowled.

  “I’m Nick Coltrane.”

  “Yeah. So?” the shorter one said.

  “I’m here with Reese Dunbar. We’d appreciate it if one or both of you could help us with our selections.”

  The taller one, Billy, shook his head. “No can do. Not right now. My brother and I are in conference.”

  “Conference, huh? Could’ve fooled me. Looks like an out-and-out argument from where I stand.”

  “Then stand somewhere else so you’re not in our way,” Pudge said.

  Pudge and Billy resumed their squabble, ignoring Nick.

  From a safe distance away, Reese called, “Nick. It’s best to give them their space at times like this. I can find the items on my list on my own.”

  Nick didn’t budge, other than to motion for her to move off.

  “How do you explain these grapes?” Pudge demanded of his brother, holding a bunch of the offending fruit up to the light. “The color’s off. And they’re starting to shrivel. There’s no way folks will buy these.”

  “Come off it, Pudge,” Billy lifted his own sample. “There’s nothing wrong with these.” Popping a couple in his mouth, he announced, “These taste fine.”

  “Like you can tell.”

  “Well, Mr. Know-It-All, we’re keeping them anyhow.” Billy threw his bunch of grapes on top of those heaped in the bin. The impact was so intense, several toppled onto the floor.

  “Now look what you’ve done.” Pudge went down on his knees to retrieve the spilled fruit. “Suppose some customer slipped on this?”

  Billy slammed a fist against the bin, knocking yet more grapes onto the floor. “Well, ex-cuse me!”

  Pudge shot his brother a murderous look. “I could use some help here.”

  Nick closed the gap between them. “Geez, guys, give it a rest!” He inserted himself in the midst of the brawling brothers.

  “Leave them be, Nick,” Reese warned. But her words went unheeded. In the blink of an eye, the argument morphed into a slugfest.

  Nick was no match for their sparring, even though he was taller and probably stronger than the other two men. He ducked the first blow, managing to escape their fisticuffs, but the second time around, he shifted his stance, his foot connecting with the gra
pes Billy had dropped, causing him to lose his balance. At the same time, Billy punched him on the shoulder and one of Pudge’s returns landed on his jaw, sending him sprawling onto the floor. As he went down, his foot slid on the grapes and twisted under him.

  Good God! She knew something like this could happen. Damn his macho need to take control. “Nick!” she screamed, running up to him.

  He moaned, gripped his ankle. “Oh! Ow! Ooh!”

  “Look what you did!” Billy screamed at Pudge.

  “Me? I told ya them grapes was a menace.”

  Face contorted in pain, Nick rubbed his ankle, gasping for breath. “Some help here…please.”

  She dropped to her knees next to him. “Nick? Are you okay?”

  “Do I look okay?” he moaned. He squinted through half-closed eyes. “Make the room stop spinning.”

  “He got in the middle of our family discussion,” Pudge attempted to explain.

  Not to be outdone downplaying the accident, Billy added, “He shoulda left us alone. We didn’t need no interference.”

  “Mediator,” Pudge corrected. “That’s the term they—”

  “Quiet!” she yelled. “Stop quarreling and help him up.”

  Pudge scowled, Billy dropped his head, but both leaned over to help Nick to his feet.

  As they started to pull him up, Nick let out another yelp. “Stop! My ankle. I can’t put any weight on it.”

  Exchanging perplexed looks, the brothers set him down more carefully.

  “Clear away from him,” she directed, lifting his head onto her lap. To one of the hovering staff, she said, “We need an EMT. Now!”

  Chapter Ten

  “You don’t appear to have a concussion,” the emergency room doctor told Nick once he’d performed an examination. “But from the swelling and discoloration around your ankle, I’d say you’ve got a pretty severe sprain going there.”

  Nick heard the doctor’s words, but they weren’t making sense. He felt like he was floating outside his body. He was no wuss, but the pain was tremendous. He’d almost passed out from it in the ambulance on the way to the ER. Now, as he sat here in the examining room with his pant leg slit to his knee (his new pair of Armani khakis, no less) and his leg propped up on the examining table, all he wanted was for the doc to give him something to make the throbbing stop.

  “Just a sprain? It isn’t broken?” Reese asked.

  “Can’t say for sure until the swelling goes down. But I didn’t feel any dislocation.”

  To Nick, Reese asked, “Why are you doing that?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Rubbing your wrist. Did you hurt it too?”

  He glanced down. She was right. He was massaging his left hand. And, yeah, it did hurt. “Must’ve used it to break my fall.”

  “Let me see that.” The doctor reached in to take Nick’s hand. “Turn it to the right as far as you can go before the pain is too much.”

  Nick did as ordered, raising his hand no more than an inch before he had to stop. “Geez, that hurts.”

  “Okay, now pivot your hand to the left using your thumb.”

  This time, he was able to lift his hand half an inch higher than the other direction before a cutting pain shot through the right side just above the wrist.

  “How about the rest of your body? Sometimes the shoulder gets jerked when your palm goes out to catch the fall. Or maybe your knee?”

  “My whole body feels like someone ran a cement grader over it, but I don’t think anything else is broken or torn.”

  “Can’t you give him something to ease the pain, doctor?” Reese intervened. “He’s so pale.”

  “Not yet, Mrs. Coltrane. Not until—”

  “Oh, I’m not—”

  “You’re not a nurse, are you, hon. So let the doc finish.” Even in his semi-conscious state, he knew a non-relative was likely to be sent back to the waiting room. Since he could barely focus on what the doc was telling him, he wanted someone else with him who would take it all in. He saw the look of surprise come over Reese’s face when he called her “hon.” He just hoped she played along.

  The doctor either didn’t notice the exchange or chose to ignore it. “Uh, I was saying, until I’ve made a full assessment of your husband’s injury, I don’t want to block any of his body’s natural reactions to the injury. Those are some of the best clues we have to determining the actual state of his ankle.”

  Nick avoided Reese’s eyes. She was sure to give things away, if given the chance. She probably couldn’t handle even white lies, like pretending she was his wife—just for now, of course—even if that meant he could have someone with him he trusted.

  “I, uh, okay,” Reese stammered. “Could he at least lie back on that table?”

  “Not just yet. I’m going to order a few x-rays. Don’t always do that right away due to the swelling, which tends to complicate the picture. But I want to make sure my evaluation is accurate. If either the ankle or wrist should be broken, I want to immobilize those parts as soon as possible.”

  “Immobilize? Like with splints?” she asked.

  “With pins.”

  “Then you mean surgery.”

  The physician looked away from him momentarily to respond to her question. “Yes. But I can’t make that call until I’ve got more information.”

  An aide entered the exam room pushing a wheelchair. “Mr. Coltrane?”

  “I’m your boy,” Nick answered. He attempted to be the model patient despite what felt like a clamp squeezing his ankle.

  “You can stay here, if you want. Or go out to the waiting room,” the aide told Reese.

  “This won’t take long,” the doctor told them, accompanying them out of the room.

  And it didn’t take long. Within minutes, Nick was back. At least that’s what it seemed like. He could’ve passed out briefly and not known it.

  As soon as the aide left and before the doctor returned, Reese said, “I debated whether to call your aunt.”

  His insides went queasy. “You didn’t, I hope.”

  “No. Not yet. If I’m supposed to be Mrs. Coltrane, you probably don’t want your aunt taking center stage.”

  Thank God for that. “You catch on fast. Thanks.”

  “How are you doing? Can you hold on until that doctor reads the x-rays?”

  “You gonna catch me, if I start to fall over?” He couldn’t help himself. Even in this semi-conscious state, he had to make light of his condition.

  “You don’t have to joke and play brave with me, Nick. My brothers have all suffered some sort of foot injury over the years, what with all the sports they’ve been involved in. And each one of them, despite their bravado, had his moments of misery.”

  Was she bringing this up to keep him talking, so he’d forget about the pain? “Brothers. That’s right. You’ve mentioned them once or twice. Three. Right?”

  “That’s right. Stepbrothers. All younger.”

  “That’s what you’re attempting to do for me now? Play big sister?”

  “I think you have a few years on me chronologically. But I feel responsible for all this. I should have known better than to take you into the lair of those two psychos.”

  He held up a hand. “I’m a big boy, Reese. I should’ve kept my distance instead of rushing in there thinking I was the great arbiter.”

  “Why did you?”

  “Certainly not a hero complex. Even though the outing was my idea, I was getting frustrated following you around. Playing peacekeeper gave me something to do.”

  She stared at him a moment. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. And…thank you for trying to help.”

  Not expecting that. “Uh, you’re welcome.”

  The ER doc returned to the room and wasted no time with preliminaries. “No fractures. At least that we can tell today. I may have you come back in a week or two for more x-rays, but for now we’re just going to put you in an ankle boot and wrap the wrist. With the wrist out of commission, you won’t be ab
le to handle crutches, so I’m going to send you home with a wheelchair for a few days.”

  “A wheelchair?” He heard his voice rise, using more energy than he’d been feeling otherwise in the last hour.

  “That’s right. Once your wrist feels better, don’t put any weight on that foot for a few days, even with crutches. Until the swelling subsides.”

  “Darling! Why didn’t you call me?”

  The words, so plaintive, so concerned, cut off the doctor’s instructions as Leonie breezed into the room, Jasper in her wake.

  Nick’s pain level immediately spiked. How did she know he was here?

  “Are you the one in charge here?” Leonie asked the doc.

  “I’m the attending ER physician, if that’s what you mean, ma’am. Who are you?”

  Leonie bristled. “I’m his aunt. His next of kin.”

  “Whoever you are, I’m afraid you’ll need to go to the waiting room now that you’ve located your nephew. It’s getting a bit crowded in here. And since his wife’s—”

  “His wife?”

  Oh, boy. Like he needed one more complication.

  Better ’fess up before Hurricane Leonie wreaked her typical havoc. “I, uh, sorta…misled you earlier, Doc, when I told you this was Mrs. Coltrane.”

  The doctor raised his eyebrows.

  “Ms. Dunbar was the only one here with me, so I asked her to take notes since I was having trouble tracking.”

  “I see,” the doctor said, although he obviously didn’t.

  Reese grabbed for her purse. “But since your aunt’s here now, I’ll be on my way.” She swiveled toward Jasper. “I’m assuming rehearsal is off?”

  “I, we, put it on indefinite hold when we learned Nick had been taken to the hospital.”

  “Then I’ll grab a cab and head home.”

  “No, wait.” He hadn’t realized he was going to call her back until the words emerged. “Maybe all three of you could go to the waiting room while they fix me up. My driver can drop you off at your apartment on the way to my place, Reese.”

  Leonie offered Reese a tight smile and, in her trademark mellifluous tones said, “That’s not necessary, Nick. Now that I’m here, I’ll stick around. My driver can take Ms. Dunbar and Jasper back to their respective homes and your man, James, can take us both back to your place.”

 

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