Prima Donna

by Drewry, Laura

  He thought he was being the good guy by slipping out in the middle of the night—keeping to her no sleepovers rule—but he’d fully expected to be able to call her before she went to work so he could say hi, to hear her voice, and to find out what she wanted to do about their…situation.

  He hoped to be able to convince her to wait until he got home before telling Jules and Rossick anything, that if she was going to do it, it was something they should do together, but he’d been slammed from the second he walked through the doors of St. Mark’s and hadn’t had a chance to even look at his phone until well after midnight.

  Dead.

  “Shit.” That’s what you got when you went three days without charging it. It wasn’t like he could call Regan at that time of the night anyway, even if he used one of the hospital lines, but still. He headed straight for the nurses’ station, knowing they had all sorts of chargers and things tucked away back there. They were like magicians the way they always seemed to have just what he needed whenever he needed it.

  “Hey, Sandy,” he said, lifting his phone. “Would you happen to have—”

  “Dr. Scott—curtain area three please.”

  He hated that intercom sometimes.

  Sandy just laughed and held her hand out. “Leave it with me.”

  “You’re the best!” With his phone left behind, Carter hustled down to the curtain area, where he spent the rest of his shift treating six more patients with the pseudo-Norovirus, two teenagers brought in by the cops with what appeared to be heroin overdoses, four kids suffering from smoke inhalation, three croupy babies, and a busload of peewee hockey players who’d all fallen sick when exhaust started filtering up inside their bus.

  It wasn’t often he looked forward to the end of his shift, but this was definitely one of those times. He headed back to the nurses’ station, where Sandy had already given up her post to old-school Doreen, who still wore a crisp white nurse’s uniform with one of those fob-type watches pinned above her name tag, and proper white nursing shoes.

  “Yours,” she said, handing him his phone. “Also, Dr. Rossick called twice. Says it’s important. Dr. Dean called once, no message, and Dr. Imrie wanted you to know Erin Lambert’s blood work came back clear again.”

  Carter waited a second, in case there was one more message, which of course there wouldn’t be, so he nodded, thanked her, and headed for the doctor’s lounge. While his cell phone powered up, he dialed Rossick’s number from the phone on the wall. Being Saturday and all, he might still be asleep, but—nope, he answered on the first ring.

  “Hey, man. Sorry, it was crazy down here last night. What’s up?…No, I haven’t talked to her since Thursday night, why?…Tell me…Rossick…Whatever, I’m too tired to argue. I’ll be home in an hour.”

  Without waiting for another word, Carter hung up and headed for the elevator, forcing himself to be patient as the new messages loaded onto his phone and notifications flashed across the screen.

  There. A text from Regan yesterday morning.

  Can you give me a call when you get a sec?

  He hit dial and waited, then had to redial and wait again when he lost the call in the elevator. By the time her voice mail kicked in, he was squeezing the phone so hard his knuckles hurt.

  “Hey, Red, sorry, I just got your message. Crazy busy night and my phone died, but I’m on my way home now so I’ll try you again in a while.”

  Since she’d taken Thursday off, she no doubt had her entire day booked up with a stupid number of appointments, which meant it’d be sketchy trying to reach her. That, in turn, meant he’d have to wait to talk to her.

  To see her.

  To pull her clothes off and climb into bed with her.

  As soon as he parked outside his apartment, he called her again, but it went straight to voice mail, so he didn’t bother leaving another message, just forced his legs to carry him up the stairs, where he hoped to get a few hours of sleep.

  Jules was chewing on her thumbnail and pacing in front of the living room window when he opened the door. Rossick was perched on the edge of the La-Z-Boy but immediately shoved off and stood behind it as though it was some kind of shield.

  “Ah, shit.” Carter slumped down on the couch, let his head fall back on the cushion, and sighed. “What?”

  When neither of them answered right away, he sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Come on, guys, I’m about two blinks away from a coma, so whatever it is, just say it so I can go get some sleep.”

  No surprise, it was Jules who spoke first. She scurried over to the same chair Rossick just left and blinked. A lot.

  “Okay, first of all, we want you to know that we’re sorry if this upsets you because that’s the absolute last thing we wanted. And second of all, we hope this doesn’t change anything between us or the clinic or—”

  “What the hell are you—”

  “Regan quit.”

  “I love her,” Rossick blurted out at the same time, then raced to clarify himself when Carter’s head came up off the cushion so fast. “Jules! I meant Jules!”

  “Why?” Carter fell back against the cushion again, trying to wrap his exhausted brain around what he’d just heard, and sighing when they both just stared at him. “Regan. Did she say why?”

  He knew the reason was because he’d been a selfish asshole last night, and had taken advantage of her when she was once again vulnerable, but did they know that?

  Jules and Rossick both frowned, looked at each other, then back at him.

  “She, uh, she said she got another job. Out of town.”

  “What?!” Bolting upright, Carter blinked back at them until they both backed up a little.

  “Th-that’s what she said,” Jules stammered.

  Cursing, he pulled out his phone and dialed Regan’s number as he headed back toward the door. Voice mail. Shit.

  “Uh, Carter?” Rossick cleared his throat and stepped into the middle of the room, waving his finger between himself and Jules. “Don’t you want to talk about this?”

  “Talk about what?” Carter asked, raising his irritated gaze to Rossick’s. “The fact that my best friends thought they had to keep their secret from me for the last three months?”

  “You knew?” Jules shoved off the chair and pushed by Rossick, whose mouth was hanging open like a carp.

  “Of course I knew. How stupid do you think I am?”

  “How did you find out?”

  “It ain’t rocket science, Jules. The night of the Christmas party, I had to work, and when I got home, the two of you were acting all guilty and nervous. You work your schedules so you get the same days off, you’re always in his office—”

  “I am not!”

  “—and he’s always hanging over you with that stupid-ass grin of his.”

  “I don’t—” Rossick’s denial died on his tongue, then he shrugged over another one of his stupid-ass grins. “Yeah, okay, I do.”

  “And come on…did you really think I believed for one second that Rossick slept on the floor here that night?”

  Jules’ face flushed deep red, but Rossick just laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Why didn’t you?” Carter rubbed the heels of his hands across his eyes and sighed. “How many guys did we chase off ’cause they weren’t good enough for her?”

  “A lot.”

  “Exactly. I figured one day you’d man up and tell me, but until you did, you didn’t deserve to have her to yourself any more than they did.”

  “Aww,” Jules sighed. “That’s so sweet, Carter.”

  “Yeah, real sweet, except now you’re gonna want me to move out, aren’t you?” He gave them as much of a smile as he could muster before walking over and kissing Jules’s cheek. “I’m happy for you guys, no shit, but we’re gonna have to do this later, ’cause I gotta go.”

  “Where?”

  Carter already had the door open so he called back over his sho
ulder. “Gotta find Regan.”

  “Tell her I’m sorry!”

  He had no idea what Rossick meant by that, and he didn’t care enough to ask. All he cared about was finding Regan.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I know.”

  Han Solo, The Empire Strikes Back

  A quick call to her insurance agent, who also happened to be one of her color-touch-up-and-trim-every-six-weeks clients, and Regan had a rental car at her disposal. After stopping at Pandora’s to check on Ellie, who insisted on going in to work, she ran by the CozyMart and the liquor store for boxes, then spent the rest of the day and night running from one appointment to the next, trying to make up for the ones she’d canceled on Thursday.

  The relief she’d felt at hearing Carter’s message earlier was rapidly fading as the day went on and they continued to miss each other. No matter what, her clients had to come first, so her phone went off when she was at an appointment, and didn’t get turned back on until she was out of their house.

  If she hadn’t been so desperate to keep clients, she would have said no to Judy Schwann when she called, especially when she found out the woman wanted color. But if she had any hope of her plan working, she’d still need to bend to their whims for a while, so if Judy wanted Regan to go to her house at eight o’clock at night, that’s what she’d do.

  And with another fourteen-plus-hour day behind her, Regan finally stumbled out of the elevator and into her apartment. Not a light was on, not a sound could be heard, but she knew he was there.

  And she knew exactly where he’d be.

  Her jacket and boots got dumped near the tub chair, her T-shirt abandoned on the floor near the kitchen, jeans in the bedroom doorway, and her bra and panties on the floor next to the bed.

  Stretched out on his side fully dressed, Carter was fast asleep, his left arm tucked up under the side of his head, the other stretched out over the other side of the bed. Her side.

  Regan eased up onto the bed, carefully lifting his arm with the blanket, and then pulled both up, so his arm draped over her as she studied his face from every angle. From the way his disastrous hair poked up in so many directions, to the teeny tiny scar that disappeared into his left eyebrow, and those crinkly lines around the corners of his eyes and mouth, there wasn’t a single thing she didn’t like, not a single thing she’d change.

  In her haste to secure Griffin’s job, she’d refused to let herself think about what it meant, but now, lying there next to Carter while he slept, she couldn’t think of anything else; of anyone else.

  Since the day her dad walked out on them, she’d done what she could for her mom, always knowing it would never be enough to bring back the woman she dreamt about, the woman who still lived in Regan’s childhood memories.

  She’d never let herself get too deep into a relationship because in the long run, she’d never be able to put in the time and energy it took to make a relationship work. And she couldn’t ask anyone to take on the responsibility of her mom; it wouldn’t have been fair.

  That wasn’t to say she hadn’t dated, because she had, and over the years she’d had both her fair share of idiots and really nice guys. But nice or not, she’d never shared a single detail about her mom with any of them. It’s possible that one or two of them might have shown interest if given the chance, might even have stepped up and offered to help, but she’d never opened that door to them.

  Hell, she hadn’t even cracked a window.

  Carter hadn’t asked, he’d just charged in, pulled every detail he could from her, and then hung around for the fallout afterward. That on its own would have been enough, but he was also sweet, crazy generous, smart, and no matter what, he never failed to make her laugh. It didn’t hurt that he was exceedingly easy on the eyes, either.

  He’d wiggled his way into her life even though she’d told him she didn’t want or need him there. And somehow, while she was busy convincing herself she didn’t have the time or energy to care for anyone else, she found herself caring about him.

  Oh, who was she kidding? This went way beyond caring, this was something more; much more. Regan swallowed hard and braced herself for the worst as she finally allowed herself to think the word, to let herself feel it.

  Love.

  Terrifying, freeing, potentially disastrous, potentially brilliant, it was too much all at once. How could she possibly be so scared, yet so unbelievably happy at the same time? And how could she lie there smiling like an idiot when every bit of her sensible side was screaming at her to get out of that bed and to put her clothes back on?

  There was no way she could ask him to put his life on hold while she ran back and forth all over the world, so it would be infinitely easier to end it right there, right then before she did something stupid.

  She’d spent a lot of years building and reinforcing that barrier around her heart, and it had done a hell of a good job up until now.

  But now…now she was screwed.

  Keeping her mom at Hillcrest meant Regan had to take the job with Griffin, but taking the job with Griffin meant she had to leave Carter. She’d have to give up the one she loved for someone who’d never remember having loved her.

  Regan sniffed quietly and blinked hard to keep the burning in her eyes at bay. She still had a few days with him, and so long as she didn’t do something stupid to scare him off, like dropping the L-bomb, there was no reason why they couldn’t enjoy the time they had left.

  Girlie Regan deserved at least that much.

  Starting at the scar, she pressed a barely there kiss against it, and even though he didn’t so much as twitch, the subtle change in his breathing made her smile a little as she bent to kiss the crinkles around his right eye. His skin was so warm, his scent so…so Carter…she moved lower, a kiss against the side of his nose, then the corner of his mouth where the barest flicker of his lip made her smile.

  “You’re not an easy chick to track down,” he mumbled. Without even opening his eyes, he pressed his hand against her cheek, gently urging her down to kiss him again.

  “I’m not a chick,” she whispered, running her finger along his lip, over his chin, and slowly down his neck to where his pulse was already pumping at a pretty good rate. “Is there a reason why you’re still dressed?”

  His grin started slowly, his voice full of scratchy sleep. “Didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

  “I appreciate that, but—”

  It was shocking how fast that man could shed clothes, but instead of reaching for the box of condoms like she expected, Carter climbed under the blanket, held his arms wide and waited for her to curl up beside him. With her ear pressed against the side of his chest, she smoothed her fingers over the other side, loving the texture of his skin; its warmth, its smoothness.

  “Rumor has it you quit.” He spoke quietly, almost tentatively, as he ran his fingers slowly up and down her arm.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “And got a new job.” He lifted her hand, pressed their palms together, then slipped his fingers through hers and squeezed. “Out of town.”

  Mesmerized by the way he flexed his fingers, then refolded them through hers, and by the way his chest rumbled under her ear, it was all she could do to manage another “Mm-hmm.”

  “Are we gonna talk about it?”

  There wasn’t anything left to talk about. Even with her two jobs, there was no way she could afford her apartment, the rent on a salon, and Hillcrest, but working for Griffin would pay her double what she was making, it would release her from paying rent on her apartment, and it would free up the extra money she needed for Hillcrest.

  In a year or so, with her savings account padded up, not even Jeff Goodsen would be able to deny her a mortgage, so then she’d finally be able to buy a little house of her own and set up shop there, which would again save her from paying rent on two places. God knew she’d been over the numbers a thousand times, and even though it’d still be tight, it wouldn’t be nearly as tight as it’d been the last year o
r so. She could make it work; she just needed to be patient.

  Carter listened as she explained, but took a while afterward before he said anything.

  “Money? That’s why you quit?”

  Regan shrugged slowly. “I told you before, when push comes to shove, I’ll do whatever I need to do to get the bills paid, and if that means—”

  She hesitated for a second, needing the time to reinforce her resolve, to brace herself for the rest.

  “And if that means packing up and saying goodbye to everyone so I can go follow Griffin around the world for however long, then that’s what it means.”

  Her voice only wavered a couple times, which was pretty good considering how many times it threatened to crack in half on the way out of her throat. Still, she hadn’t been able to look him in the eye the whole time, just focused on their hands, clasped together, until Carter let them fall and wrenched his free.

  “Jeezus, Regan, if this is just about money, tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

  “You’ll—” Choking back the rest of her words, Regan pushed off the bed and grabbed for her robe. “It’s bad enough knowing what some people think about me, Carter, I’m not about to prove them right by letting you set me up with your gold card.”

  She was already in the kitchen when she heard him mutter something under his breath, something that sounded an awful lot like the F-bomb, and not the one she used. A few seconds later he was standing in the narrow hall between the bedroom and kitchen in nothing but his boxers.

  Regan refused to be swayed by the fact they were Chewbacca boxers.

  “What people? Who are you talking about?”

  Her mother, to start with, but there was Rossick, and probably Julia, too. Should she tell Carter what Rossick said about her, or did it even matter at this point?

  “Just people,” she said, huffing out a breath. “The point is, I don’t want your money, I don’t need your money, and I don’t want you or anyone else thinking that’s what I’m after.”