His Leading Lady

by Maggie Dallen

  She went into full-blown sales mode then, and Nicholas found himself warming to the plan—he still hated that he’d be selling himself to the highest bidder—but he couldn’t help but admit that it was a good idea. It would be something new for the jaded socialites and bored Upper East Side wives who were their biggest donors.

  Her eyes bright with excitement, Alice used her hands as she was talking, gesturing wildly in her enthusiasm.

  It was no wonder she was the rising star of her company. Dixon had told him that, and it was a no-brainer. She was ambitious, fearless, and clearly passionate about what she did.

  “How did you get into PR?” he asked.

  She blinked at him for a moment, as she adjusted to the change of topic. She shrugged. “I fell into it, I guess.”

  Something told him there was more to it than that, but those damned walls were still firmly in place. So he tried a different tact. Maybe if he worked with her on this ridiculous event, she would open up again, overcome whatever foot-in-mouth comment he’d unwittingly made before. “So, what’s the venue you’re imagining?” He looked around the ballroom. “Something like this?”

  Her nose wrinkled up as she followed his gaze. “No,” she said. “I don’t think so. This type of setting has been overdone. We need something different, something…”

  Her eyes took on a faraway look that he was beginning to recognize. She was brainstorming… And it was adorable.

  The moment was interrupted, however, when her purse started to buzz. He watched her fumble through the tiny handbag’s contents before she pulled out her phone. Her face paled noticeably when she read whatever it said, and Nicholas found himself instinctively reaching out, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “What is it?”

  When she looked up, the real Alice was back—but not because she was caught up in dancing or because he’d wooed her into a conversation. No, he saw genuine emotion all right, but this time it was sheer panic.

  * * * *

  Alice’s brain went blank for a moment. Life turned upside down. “My sister,” she said through frozen lips. “She’s in the hospital.”

  Nicholas. Thank God for Nicholas. He was the epitome of calm. Just like the night they’d first met, she watched him transform into a cool, capable doctor. Lowering himself a bit, he was at eye level as he asked her a series of questions. She realized dimly that he thought her sister had been in a car accident or something—he was asking questions about her status that made no sense.

  “She went into labor.” The words came out quickly, and she watched the sudden, almost comical change in Nicholas as they sank in. She waited for him to calm her, to tell her she had nothing to worry about, women gave birth all the time. But instead, he lightly gripped her elbow and started steering her toward the door.

  “What are we waiting for? You want to be with your sister, don’t you?”

  Yes! Yes. More than anything, she wanted to see for herself that her sister was all right. She didn’t have any weird fears about giving birth but the fact of the matter was—her sister was in the hospital. That’s all that seemed to matter.

  Twenty excruciatingly long minutes later their cab dropped them off at Nicholas’s hospital. They reached the waiting room, and Alice spotted her friends through the glass doors.

  She turned back quickly before Nicholas could enter. “You don’t have to stick around.”

  He ignored her, giving her a little smirk of disbelief before leading the way into the waiting room.

  Her friends looked up and rushed toward her the moment she stepped inside, and Alice temporarily forgot about her date. Caitlyn reached her first, and Alice fell into her hug. Meg and Caitlyn had been friends since freshman year of college, and she loved Meg almost as much as she did. When Alice drew back she saw Caitlyn staring over her shoulder at Nicholas with comically wide eyes. Geez, be more obvious, Cait. She spotted Ben over Caitlyn’s shoulder, and he gave her a wink that made her smile, despite the cold pit of fear that had lodged itself in her chest.

  “Jake is in there with her,” Caitlyn said in a rush, apparently over her fascination with Alice’s tux-clad date. “But he’s been coming out every once in a while to give us updates. So far Meg and the baby are doing great.”

  Alice nodded. She waited for the fear to dissipate but there was no relief. Her sister was fine; Caitlyn just said so.

  Still, until she saw Meg and the baby with her own eyes—preferably far, far away from a hospital setting, she knew she wouldn’t be able to relax.

  Caitlyn stepped aside and Alice moved past her to hug Tamara and Marc, her roommate, who were patiently waiting their turn. Once the niceties were dispensed with, Tamara launched into her story of how Meg went into labor while working at the bar.

  Alice cursed under her breath at her sister’s stubbornness. She and Jake had tried to veer her away from the manual labor these past couple months, but her sister hated to feel useless and had insisted on working right on up until the moment the baby was born. It looked like she’d gotten her wish.

  As Tamara talked, Alice noticed Marc staring over her shoulder. When Tamara trailed off, he whispered loudly, “Who. Is. That?”

  Alice didn’t have to look back to know who had him stunned. Marc had an eye for beautiful men, and there was no doubt in her mind that her friend was stunned into reverent whispers at the sight of the oh-so-classically-handsome doctor.

  Who was still here, it seemed, despite her hints that he should leave. Rather than annoyance, she felt a flood of relief. She didn’t need him here, but she couldn’t deny that he was a calming influence—there was something so unshakeable about him. So grounded. Especially in a hospital setting.

  Marc and Tamara—and no doubt Caitlyn and Ben, who were standing to her left—were waiting for an introduction. “You guys, this is Dr. Nicholas Bale,” she said, not turning to see his reaction, which she was positive was charming and kind, because that’s just how he was. All the time. It was freakin’ annoying.

  She heard Tamara and Marc introduce themselves before turning to whisper to one another. Somehow she had a feeling Meg had told them all about the mysterious doctor at the theater gala and the pieces were clicking together for her friends. Let them think what they would. She would explain the truth to them on Saturday morning at the next Operation Petticoat gathering.

  What was more unusual was the awkward silence that fell when it was Caitlyn’s turn to introduce herself. Alice looked to her friend and saw that she was a bright pink as she gave Nicholas a little wave. “Hi again,” she said.

  She snapped her head to the side to see Nicholas giving Caitlyn a sweet, knowing smile that made her want to rip someone’s eyes out. “Hey, Caitlyn, good to see you.”

  “You guys know each other?” she blurted out, just as Ben stepped up and wrapped a possessive arm around Caitlyn’s waist. So she wasn’t the only one who picked up on the awkwardness apparently.

  Caitlyn turned to her, ignoring the question and Nicholas. “Jake said it’s going to be a while. Like, a while-while. Ben and I are going to head home and come back first thing in the morning.”

  Alice nodded and returned Caitlyn’s hug.

  “Call me if you need anything,” Caitlyn said as she and Ben headed toward the exit hand in hand.

  Tamara and Marc followed shortly after with similar promises to return first thing in the morning, and leaving her alone with Nicholas—her date.

  He stepped up beside her and placed an arm around her shoulders. “This is exciting, you know.” His voice was gentle, teasing—and for some reason it seemed to unlock the emotions she’d been shoving aside since the text came in, and she found herself once again battling tears in front of this man.

  She gave a jerky nod. It was exciting. Of course it was. At the end of all this, her sister would have her dream come true—her baby, her miracle. The family she’d always wanted and never had. Maybe finally someone in their family would get it right. If there was any
one who could excel at the parenting thing, it was Meg. And Jake, for that matter.

  She should be excited. She would be excited—once she knew her sister was okay.

  As if reading her mind, Nicholas leaned over again and said softly, “Would it make you feel better if I go check on your sister’s progress with her doctor?”

  Alice nodded quickly. Yes. Yes, yes, yes. She didn’t know Meg’s doctor personally, but she trusted Nicholas. If he said she was all right, if he thought there was nothing to worry about—maybe then she could relax. Maybe some of this fear would dissipate.

  “Yes, please,” she whispered. He disappeared down a hallway, and she found herself letting out a long breath of relief that he was on top of things. Her Nicholas—so strong, so collected, so…capable.

  Her Nicholas? She shook her head in disgust. Since when had she started to think of him as her anything? And the fact that she had come to trust him—had come to rely on him even…

  She should have been horrified. She would have been horrified if she wasn’t so preoccupied with her sister’s condition. But she would deal with that issue tomorrow, once her sister and her baby were safe and sound at home. Away from this hospital. In the meantime… She looked around the sterile waiting room and tried to fight the panic that always threatened to overwhelm her in hospitals. In the meantime, she would do whatever she had to do to get through this night. And if that meant giving in to her weakness and relying on Nicholas for the time being—so be it.

  He came back into the room then, and she tried to ignore her heart’s flip-flop in her chest. It was just the nerves talking. Just the anxiety. He was a doctor, of course she would be happy to see him here. This was purely practical.

  “How is she?” she asked the moment he reached her side.

  His smile was warm, comforting. Was it any wonder so many of his female acquaintances seemed to be head over heels in love? If he smiled at all of them this way, it was his own fault.

  “She’s doing great,” he said. Wrapping one arm around her, he steered her toward a seat and gently eased her into it, taking the seat next to hers.

  Relief made her knees shaky, and she was grateful for the help. Shit, she hated hospitals.

  “You know, a lot of people would be excited right now,” he said in a tone so casual and teasing it jarred her out of her thoughts.

  She blinked up at him. What? Oh right. She was supposed to be the ecstatic aunt. Forcing a smile, she said, “I am.”

  His eyes widened in a look of disbelief.

  “I will be,” she amended, “when Meg and the baby are at home.”

  “Ahh.” He settled back in his seat, his gaze never leaving her face. “You have a fear of hospitals then.”

  He said it with such assurance that it was not even a question. She felt her skin warming beneath his gaze. She wasn’t used to having her deepest fears on display in front of everyone, but the fact that it was this man made it that much worse. She didn’t try to deny it, though. It would be ridiculous to try. She was frozen solid in her seat and had been a basket case from the moment the text had arrived.

  Of course she was afraid, it must have been written all over her face. And he was a doctor—one who worked at a freakin’ hospital. He must see this sort of thing every day.

  At that thought, she forced a small smile. “You must deal with this a lot, huh? Patients with an irrational fear of hospitals?”

  He reached out and took her ice-cold hand in his. The jolt of awareness as much of a shock as the welcome warmth of his skin against hers.

  “But your patients are children,” she continued, acutely aware that she was starting to babble. “It makes sense to be afraid if you’re a kid.”

  “Not necessarily,” he said. “In my experience, when kids are afraid of hospitals, it’s because it’s a new environment—one with frightening machines that make weird noises and strangers dressed in strange uniforms, who insist on poking them with sharp objects.”

  He leaned toward her a bit, and Alice had to resist the urge to meet him halfway so she could lean against his strong warmth.

  “But when adults are afraid,” he continued slowly, “it’s usually because they’ve had some sort of traumatic experience.”

  He looked at her then, and she found herself transfixed by his gaze, which seemed to see straight through her. She was naked and vulnerable before him. Of course he saw right through her fears. He wasn’t stupid, and he apparently found her appallingly easy to read. She wanted to deny it or make a joke to brush off the oddly intimate moment—but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

  Being here in the hospital, it all came back. The smells and sounds of hospitals always took her right back to that awful, life-changing day. Finding her mother unconscious. The seemingly endless ambulance ride to the hospital. Waiting alone for hours in the waiting room for any word. And finally, that moment when the doctors came to find her.

  “My mom died.” The words came out softly, but they sounded like a bomb going off in the quiet waiting room. Alice slapped a hand over her mouth in disbelief, but that disbelief turned to horror as tears started to fill her eyes.

  It was his fault. He was looking at her with such kindness, such understanding, such love—no, not love. Tenderness, that was what it was. It was impossible not to feel safe, coddled. Like he wanted to ease her pain. And for a stupid, irrational moment, Alice wanted more than anything in the world to let him help. She wanted to tell someone the full story she’d never told anyone else—not even her sister.

  Those few years after Meg went off to college and Alice was stuck at home with their erratic, emotional mother and her string of loser boyfriends. Things had gone from bad to worse without Meg’s stabilizing influence. Oh, her sister had come home on the weekends to make sure that Alice had meals lined up for the week. To talk to her about her homework and any other teenage issues she might have—but it wasn’t the same as when she’d lived there.

  But she couldn’t tell Meg. She wouldn’t add to her sister’s already-too-large burden like that. Besides, she’d been old enough at that point to deal with her mother and the dreaded boyfriends on her own. Or so she’d thought.

  She’d been wrong.

  “How did your mother die?” Nicholas’s gentle voice cut through her awful memories, bringing her back to the present, where she realized she was clutching Nicholas’s hand like it was a lifeline.

  “Drug overdose.” There it was. The bitter, harsh truth. She hated saying those words out loud. But Nicholas’s eyes didn’t hold the pity she expected or the judgment. He remained calm, capable—strong.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

  She shrugged, because that was what she’d always done when people felt sorry for her. She didn’t want sympathy. But one tender look from this man dispelled that thought because it wasn’t just sympathy in his gaze, it was caring. For some reason she could never explain, he seemed to truly care about her.

  Tears were threatening to spill. Godammit, she would not cry in front of this man. Not again.

  She took a deep breath, determined to pull herself together. Instead, she found herself talking on the exhale, as if her tears had transformed into a stream of words instead of salty water. Part of her was horrified at the release, but her body seemed to ease as she spoke—the torrent of words needing to escape before she burst from the tension of holding them in.

  “She’d always had a problem for as long as I can remember, at least. But she kept it under control, to some extent.” Alice stared up at the ceiling, remembering why they were here and battling a surge of fear. “Meg made sure of that.” She shook her head, not able to meet Nicholas’s eyes, but she could feel them on her, his undiverted attention fixed on her.

  “She was always great like that. Meg kept our little house under control. She was the mother that our mom never could be. She made sure our mom ate and stayed hydrated, no matter how bad her binges were. She made sure I was fed and clothed a
nd did my homework.” Despite everything, Alice found herself smiling a little at the memory of her older sister’s stern motherly ways.

  “What changed?” he asked. His voice was undemanding. As if he had all the time in the world to sit here and listen to her sob story.

  “Meg left for college. And thank God she did,” she hastily added. Looking over to Nicholas, she needed to make it clear. “I was glad she was leaving. So was Mom. Meg was smart, and she deserved a chance at a life. A real life with a real family. We both knew that.”

  He nodded and Alice felt like he really did understand.

  “What happened after she left home?”

  Alice heaved a sigh. “She came home on the weekends as often as she could to check in on us, but Mom and I…” She shook her head, trying to sort through the jumbled emotions to find words. “We got good at covering up what was really going on.”

  The age-old guilt made her chest heavy, which made speaking difficult. She couldn’t face Nicholas any longer, not when his kind, understanding gaze was fixed on her as if he could wipe away all the wrongs in her past with a wave of his saintly wand.

  “We didn’t want her to worry,” Alice continued, aware that she was still rationalizing, justifying her own enabling ways during that awful period. “We just wanted her to be happy, you know?”

  She thought she heard Nicholas murmur something soothing beside her, but she was too lost in the memories to hear him.

  “I should have told Meg what was really going on. I should have told someone….”

  He waited patiently for her to continue and for a moment she tried not to. She was exposing herself too much. And to a near-stranger. No, not a stranger. But someone she couldn’t afford to get close to. Couldn’t afford to rely on—not if she wanted to avoid her mother’s mistakes.

  But something about the quiet intimacy of their surroundings, or maybe it was the late hour and the remnants of the champagne, but Alice found herself completely unable to stop. Getting the words out was a relief after so many years. It was therapeutic. Maybe Meg had been right when she’d urged her to go to counseling all these years.