Recovery

by JC Harroway

  What was wrong with me? I never behaved this brusquely with patients. Moving to the computer on the desk, I typed up a prescription before sending it to the printer. I dropped my head, staring at the wood grain of the desk as I sucked a calming breath into my labouring lungs.

  Someone was a doodler. On a page torn from a notebook was a drawing featuring a tiny stick woman wearing a stethoscope and standing in front of a snow-capped mountain. I guessed the masterpiece was Jake’s work.

  The script emerged from the printer and I added my signature to the bottom before holding out the sheet out to Nathan. He was on his feet again, his bulk dominating the room and I had to crane my neck to maintain eye contact. He nodded at the piece of paper I held out to him, his hands at his sides. ‘Jake can take care of that.’

  I turned to his assistant in time to see him snapping a picture of Nathan and I on his phone. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Just posting photos,’ said Jake, his focus on his typing as his thumbs flew across the screen.

  I gripped the paper in my hand, my teeth grinding. ‘Why?’

  He glanced at Nathan, avoiding my question and sending my ire skywards. My head swivelled between the three of them, finishing on Nathan. ‘What is he doing? Why is he photographing me?’ My hands fisted on my hips as I turned to fully face all six-foot-three of him.

  A single eyebrow lifted, my reaction clearly puzzling him. ‘He’s not. He’s photographing me. Jake takes care of my social media. My fans like to see what I’m up to.’ He shrugged.

  My head began to pound and I spun back to Jake. ‘Was I in that shot?’

  He nodded, his thumbs still flying over the screen.

  ‘So that picture you just took is already on the internet?’ My voice was inching closer to hysterical pitch.

  ‘Yes,’ said Jake, his eyes dipping to the linoleum. ‘And a couple more.’

  Acid burned the back of my throat as rage bubbled up inside me. ‘Did it ever occur to you that I might not want my photo taken?’ I thrust the script at him. ‘Don’t you think you should have asked me?’

  At Jake’s dumfounded silence I turned back to Nathan. A hard mass settled in my stomach.

  ‘Is it a problem? The fans know I’m here in New Zealand and it helps to promote the film. But you’re right.’ He took a half step closer. ‘We should have asked your permission. My apologies.’

  My blood was heated but his sincere expression doused a little of my anger. ‘It may seem an overreaction, but I have good reasons for avoiding the kind of attention you actively seek.’

  His jaw muscles bunched for a brief second, then he once more schooled his features to neutrality. I turned back to a sheepish Jake. ‘Please remove that photo of me from whatever sites you’ve posted it to. Did you mention my name?’

  He shook his head, glancing again at Nathan.

  ‘Remove the photos, Jake. Could you and Lucy please wait for me outside?’

  They moved to do his bidding, taking with them the last of the comfortable silence and leaving us with only the awkward. I paced to the desk and braced my fingertips on its surface. The door closed as I battled the growing tension in the room.

  How dare they? I’d spent most of my life avoiding the spotlight, keeping my head down, seeking anonymity. I turned my glare on him, tempering it with clenched fists. ‘I am a very private person, Mr Banks. You of all people should appreciate that.’

  His eyes were dark and stormy, like weathered glass found on the beach. ‘I do.’

  I was on a roll now, my indignation freewheeling down Self-Righteous Avenue. ‘Only yesterday, you had me sign a legal document to safeguard your own privacy. And yet today you are flagrantly disregarding my own.’

  He hadn’t moved, his posture relaxed and his assertions delivered with calm confidence. ‘It was thoughtless, but not done intentionally. And I have apologised.’

  The urge to yell at him was so strong, I tasted blood where my teeth attacked my cheek. If I spoke my mind I could lose my job and worse, turn this into an even bigger scene for the Nathan Banks Hall of Fame. The best course of action was to get him and his entourage out of here. I forced my fists to relax, releasing a prolonged exhale of air.

  ‘I have other patients to see, Mr Banks. Please ensure my photograph is removed from your social media sites.’ I moved to the door, passing him with my head held high.

  As I reached for the door handle, his hand shot out to circle my wrist. ‘Sophia. I’m sorry.’ His voice was hushed, contrite, and his eyes blazed with sincerity. I glanced down to where his fingers grasped me, sucking a second of comfort from the thrill of his warm skin on mine. Pulling my wrist from his hold, I kept my eyes straight ahead and left the room without another word.

  Much later, when my anger had settled to a slow simmer, I returned to the treatment room. The drawing was still there on the desk, but now words accompanied the simple sketch.

  I’m sorry, N.

  I picked up the note, staring at it as my hand hovered over the wastepaper basket. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled when I folded the note and put it in my pocket.

  Chapter Three

  THE treadmill sounded an electronic beep to mark the end of my warm-up, and I began my forty-minute run in earnest. Jess and I shared an apartment that overlooked the lake and we’d set up the treadmill to take advantage of the spectacular views.

  I used running for both the cardio workout and to clear my head. Usually, the music carried me away and the views and the endorphins did the rest. But today, Nathan Banks forced his way into my head uninvited.

  The man pushed all my buttons and there was only so much arrogance I could ignore for a glimpse of his appealing face and taut backside.

  Jake’s stunt with the photo had unsettled me, resurrecting old memories and intense emotions from my past. I increased the volume of my favourite playlist, my legs pounding to outrun the twinge of humiliation that snapped at my heels.

  I rolled my shoulders to ease the sudden tension there. Sweat trickled from my hairline, stinging my eyes like tears. I focused on the view, but the pool of turquoise nestled amongst the snow-capped peaks did little to banish the demons I’d fought hard to overcome. Rumours, gossip and cruel words from classmates I’d considered friends. The despair and anguish etched into my mother’s face as she’d valiantly tried to maintain the loving sanctuary our home had once been. The regret and defeat in my father’s eyes as he’d toppled from the girlish pedestal I’d placed him on.

  I steepened the treadmill’s incline and pumped my legs harder, punishing myself.

  ‘Soph, I’m home.’

  I wiped at my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt. ‘Running.’

  Jess appeared from the hallway and tossed her coat onto the sofa. I’d had the day off today but Jess still wore her uniform after working the early shift. She followed my progress from her place by the door, worrying at her lip.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I punched a finger at the electronic keypad, slowing my run to a walk, and reached for a towel to wipe my face and neck.

  Her silence was starting to freak me out. I stopped the machine and grabbed my water bottle, chugging a large swallow as I approached my friend. ‘Did you have a bad day?’

  She shook her head, her eyebrows pinched together. ‘Dale, that journalist from the Queenstown Gazette, came in to work. Looking for you.’ She reached for my hand, her grip a foreboding squeeze.

  My mouth dried. ‘What did he want?’

  ‘Have you been online today?’ She led me to the sofa, her caring expression forcing my heart to pound harder than the running had accomplished.

  ‘No, I did the laundry and groceries and—’

  ‘There’s a photo of you and Nathan Banks on all the celebrity gossip sites. Dale wanted to know how long you’ve been dating and if he’d come to work in NZ to be closer to you.’

  I shook my head. ‘No! He took that photo down. He promised. He told Jake to remove it.’ My head swam as my brain was deprived of
oxygen. The water in my stomach formed a sickening lump that forced its way into my throat. I dropped my head between my knees and scrunched my eyes shut.

  Jess rubbed my back between my shoulder blades as I battled nausea. ‘It’s rubbish, Soph. We know that. I mean who makes up this shit?’

  ‘What did you say to him?’

  ‘Told him it wasn’t true and asked him to leave, of course. Then he showed me photos of Nathan leaving the clinic yesterday. Said the word was he was leaving his Hollywood womanising ways behind and asked me if there was any truth to the rumours he’d proposed to you.’

  My head shot up to glare at my friend and the room spun. ‘Oh no.’

  ‘Lie down. You’re not a good colour.’ She stood and arranged me on the sofa, propping two cushions under my feet. ‘I’ll get you a glass of water.’

  ‘My phone. Pass me my phone.’

  Returning with a glass of water and my phone, she sat on the floor next to me. ‘Don’t get upset, Soph. It’s all bullshit and it’ll soon blow over.’

  My fingers trembled as I typed ‘Nathan Banks’, ‘news’ and ‘New Zealand’ into the search engine. A whole page of results popped up and the tagline of the first one turned my blood to ice.

  Heartthrob swaps models for medic

  The story had already progressed from the local rag to the national news site. Their entertainment section boasted not only the photo of Nathan and I in the clinic treatment room, but shots of Nathan leaving the clinic and ducking into a dark SUV, and shots of a younger Nathan with an array of beautiful women on his arm.

  I groaned, thrusting the phone at Jess, and I dropped my head back down onto the sofa.

  ‘Bugger. That was quick.’

  ‘I don’t believe this.’ My mind raced, plucking at ramifications and solutions until my temples throbbed.

  ‘Don’t worry. You’ll just deny it and so will he, and they’ll move on to some actress or singer falling out of a limousine, off her face.’

  I yearned to be able to brush this off with a witty one-liner. Most women, Jess included, would be thrilled to be linked with a gorgeous celebrity, embracing their fifteen minutes of fame and hoping for the stories to become reality. Jess was a carefree, take-life-by-the-horns kind of girl who’d have already enjoyed the earth-shattering pleasure of Nathan’s company and be permanently installed on his speed-dial list. I was cautious. Life had taught me to only rely on myself. It worked for me.

  ‘But what if they don’t, Jess? What if they dig around?’ The light-headedness was fading, replaced by white-hot rage. I struggled into a sitting position. ‘At the moment I’m some nobody at the bottom of the world who’s managed to snag herself one of Hollywood’s most eligible bachelors. But once someone decides to dig, they’ll drag up the past. That’s how this works.’

  I stood, no longer able to contain the restless energy infecting my body, and began to pace. The humiliation was still there, lurking under the surface like a rash about to erupt on my skin for the entire world to see. I’d just about survived the scandal my politician father had plunged my mother, brother and I into during my teens. But our family was forever scarred, and I feared for the integrity of those wounds should we again be scrutinised.

  Jess’s whisper dragged me from my past. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I glanced at the wall clock. ‘My parents and Matty will be asleep now, but I’ll have to warn them, just in case.’ The thought of my vulnerable family being thrust into the brutal glare of the limelight for the sake of a stupid celebrity snap made me murderous.

  ‘Well at least they’re not camped outside with telephoto lenses. The street is clear; that’s good news, right?’

  I swallowed down the horror her image conjured and shot my friend a weak smile. ‘Yeah.’ I struggled to find anything good in this situation.

  I snatched up my phone and searched for the number I wanted. Jess perched on the edge of a chair, her bewildered gaze following my jerky movements as I connected the call.

  ‘Fleece Bay Lodge.’ I recognised Ben’s voice from two nights ago.

  ‘Ben? It’s Sophia King. I was there two nights ago to treat Mr Banks.’

  ‘Hello, Dr King. What can I do for you, dear?’

  ‘I’d like to speak to Mr Banks, please.’ I held my breath.

  ‘Just a moment.’

  Jess nibbled on a thumbnail, her brows pinched. I closed my eyes, formulating what I’d say into coherent and assertive arguments.

  ‘Hello, Dr King. May I ask what this is about?’

  Jake.

  ‘I’d like to speak to Mr Banks.’

  ‘I’m afraid he’s busy. If you’d like me to pass on a message …’

  ‘No. I need to speak to him in person and you’ve helped enough, thanks.’

  ‘He’s given strict instructions he’s not to be disturbed. I’m afraid all I can offer is to pass on a message.’

  My hand gripped my phone with crushing force. ‘I’m assuming you’ve seen the story, Jake.’

  Silence.

  ‘Either you get him on the phone, or I will go straight to the highest bidder with my “I’m carrying the love-rat’s child” story.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Dr King. When I see him I’ll tell him you called.’ He disconnected, leaving me gaping at my phone.

  ‘No luck, eh?’

  I shook my head and fought the temptation to throw the piece of technology at the wall.

  Our living space was open-plan. Jess stood and moved to the kitchen to fill the kettle. ‘Shall I make us a nice supper?’

  I shook my head as my thoughts tumbled over themselves. ‘I’m going to have a shower.’

  ‘Do you fancy pasta or stir-fry?’

  ‘I’m going out.’ I stalked to the bathroom, stripping off my shirt en route.

  Jess trotted behind me down the hallway. ‘Where are you going?’

  At the bathroom threshold, I spun to face her. Confusion and worry clouded my friend’s pale blue eyes.

  Determination hardened my voice to a resolute promise. ‘I’m going to sort this out. I’m going to see Nathan Banks.’

  ***

  The drive to the lodge took forty minutes along narrow gravel roads that hugged the edge of the lake, following every bay and inlet. By the time the two-storey stone building came into sight, dusk had fallen, silhouetting the secluded retreat against its mountain backdrop.

  The gate was closed. I climbed from my car and pressed the intercom, shivering from the evening chill.

  ‘Fleece Bay Lodge.’

  ‘Ben? It’s Sophia King again.’

  The sun was dropping fast behind the mountains, casting the entire lodge into shadow. I glanced at my idling car, wishing I’d put on the jacket that sat on the passenger seat. In my haste to berate Nathan Banks, I’d thrown on the first clothes I’d found and left the apartment with my hair still wet from the shower.

  ‘Is Mr Banks expecting you, dear?’

  ‘No.’ Why was I so honest? Surely this was the perfect time for a little white lie?

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Ben, I really need …’

  The electronic whirr of the gates opening startled me. I dashed for my car, slamming it into gear before he could change his mind.

  At the backdoor, a sheepish Ben greeted me. ‘Dr King, you look frozen.’ He urged me into the warm and fragrant kitchen where he introduced me to his wife and the lodge housekeeper, Emma.

  ‘Now, if they ask, you were given the code the other night when you came to provide medical care, okay?’ Ben’s weathered face was stern until he winked at me.

  ‘Thanks, Ben. I really appreciate this.’

  ‘You’ll find Mr Banks in the basement gym, I believe. He’s been a little … grumpy today, and gave instructions he wasn’t to be disturbed.’

  He led me to the hallway and pushed open a door. ‘Take these stairs, turn left at the bottom and follow the sound of music.’

  I shot Ben a grateful smile and le
t the door swing closed behind me. Filling my lungs with air, I rolled my shoulders and headed to the basement.

  The soundproofing at the lodge was state-of-the-art. As soon as I pushed open the door at the foot of the stairs, a wall of sound blasted me, the heavy bass beat resonating through the floor and into my bones.

  At the open door of the room I paused. The lights were dimmed so the view of the lake foreshore and mountains was still visible through the expanse of glass that formed the far wall of the well-equipped gym.

  Nathan ran on a treadmill positioned to face the view. By the look of him, he’d been running for some time. Sweat glistened on every exposed inch of his golden skin and trickled down his shirtless back to disappear into the waistband of his shorts.

  Frozen, I watched, unobserved from my place by the door as he pumped his arms and legs in time with the thump of the music. He was magnificent, his body a work of art like one of Leonardo’s anatomical drawings. My mouth dried.

  His face, mirrored in the window, was a mask of grim single-mindedness with a hint of something less defined that looked a lot like sadness. I couldn’t be sure because as soon as I’d witnessed it, he turned his head to the side, spotting me reflected in the glass.

  The gasp that escaped me was involuntary. I straightened my spine, determined to show no weakness.

  Slowing the treadmill, he wiped the sweat from his face with a towel. My feet were glued to the floor, but my eyes followed him as he stalked towards me, unsmiling, his breathing laboured.

  He pulled a remote from his pocket and adjusted the volume of the music. Coming to a stop in front of me, his intense gaze held mine, his chest heaving and heat radiating from him.

  Mesmerised by his perfection, my thoughts went blank leaving me tongue-tied and wide-eyed, lost in the blaze of his green irises.

  ‘Well, well. You did a great job of tucking me up. I hope you got a good price?’ A sneer transformed his beautiful mouth into something ugly. It was almost a sacrilege.

  My mind scrambled to make sense of his words. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Who’d have thought the prim little doctor would have had it in her?’

  Hold on. He was accusing me?