“Screw that,” Blake said as they walked outside. “It’s late. Stay the night.”
“Hey, thanks, that’s cool.”
The night air felt good, but as they walked across the parking lot Blake felt a deep throbbing move across his forehead, and climbing into his car he leaned back and closed his eyes
“That was freaky,” Josh remarked as he climbed in behind the wheel.
“Totally freaky,” Blake said grimly. “I need to make a call. I need to make several calls.”
While Josh drove him home, Blake was able to reach Sam Freeman, and to his surprise and relief Sam was available.
“Can you come to my house around ten tomorrow morning?” Blake asked. “I’ll have everyone there, we’ll go through the schedule, then we can be on the set by noon and we’ll only have lost a few hours.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to just meet at the studio?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know how I’ll be feeling. I’ll probably be fine and follow you guys to the set when we’re done, but I can’t guarantee that.”
“Ah, gotcha. Okay, see you at ten.”
“Do you really think you won’t be able to function tomorrow?” Josh asked, surprised that his superhuman mentor was even contemplating such a thing.
“I think I’ll be fine, but my head is starting to feel like there’s an axe imbedded in the middle of it. Tomorrow is a question mark at this point.”
“I’m sorry this happened to you, Blake.”
“Part of the job,” he sighed as he placed a call to the line producer.
By the time they’d reached his house the arrangements had been made. His crew would be at his house in the morning.
Wandering into the kitchen, he ate two slices of bread smothered in peanut butter, washed it down with a glass of milk, then swallowed his painkillers. Josh had been sitting quietly at the kitchen table, and glancing across at him Blake sensed his protege was feeling uncomfortable.
“Something on your mind?” Blake asked. “Would you rather take my car and go back to your place?”
“No, no, I’d much rather stay here,” Josh replied. “It was just weird, watching you trip like that and... I don’t know, it was just weird.”
Blake ambled over to the table and sat across from him. It wasn’t that he’d been hurt that was bothering Josh. It was the way it had happened.
“We know we can get injured doing what we do,” Blake said calmly. “Getting hit by a two-thousand pound vehicle traveling at twenty miles an hour can do some damage, but we know that going in. It’s the unexpected that can freak us out. That wrinkle in the carpet? I walked over it a hundred times, but it was the angle of my foot when I turned around that caught my toe, and boom, suddenly I was flying through the air. That was impossible to foresee. The unknown, the unpredictable, they happen in life, not just when we’re working. That’s what you’re feeling. The shock of witnessing something totally unexpected and dramatic.”
“You’re right,” Josh murmured. “That’s exactly it. Seeing you tumble like that, it was so... I don’t know the word, like seeing a ghost or something.”
“I’m lucky. I was able to slow the fall. If I’d been on a staircase with no bannister I could have been badly hurt. I’ve had black eyes before. It’s no big deal, but having said that, a tiny man with a large jackhammer has just started working on my skull. I need to get to bed.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.”
“Help yourself to anything you want, have a drink, something to eat. You know where the guest room is. Do me a favor though, knock on my door in the morning in case I oversleep. Around nine would be good.”
“Okay, Blake. Thanks. I hope you feel better.”
“I will,” he said managing a smile as he rose from the table. “I always do.”
Moving slowly, he grabbed a package of frozen peas from his refrigerator, walked up the stairs and into his bedroom. Keeping his eyes lowered he entered his bathroom, then slowly lifted his gaze to look at his reflection. It felt worse than it looked, but he knew that would change. The discoloration and swelling was starting around the side of his face and above his eye. The wound was covered by a bandage so it wasn’t visible, but he could tell it was shaped like a capital C, moving from the end of his eyebrow to outer edge of his cheek bone.
“Damn, I’m lucky,” he muttered. “I could’ve lost an eye or broken my nose.”
Moving into his closet he pulled off his clothes, then donning a clean T-shirt and boxers, he grabbed the frozen peas and his phone and climbed into bed. All he wanted to do was put the ice on his forehead and close his eyes, but he needed to talk to Belinda.
He touched her name on the screen, listened to the ring, but to his disappointment the call went to voice mail. He glanced at the clock. It wasn’t yet ten. She was still working and he hadn’t been lucky enough to catch her on a break.
“Hey, Belinda, it’s me. I’ll be turning off my phone so you won’t be able to reach me. I had a bit of a mishap at work today. I’m fine, but that’s why I had to get off the phone earlier. I didn’t mean to cut you off. Please don’t do anything about George Barrett until we talk. I’ll call you in the morning, probably around eleven or twelve, just depends. Take care. Bye for now.”
Powering down his phone, he turned off the bedside lamp, slipped under the covers, placed the frozen vegetables on his forehead, and gratefully closed his eyes.
What a day. What a fucking crazy day. I almost kill myself, and Belinda thinks she’s going to work for a lunatic in a house of horrors. Why does everything happen at once?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Belinda couldn’t sleep.
From the time she returned to the hospital after her dinner meeting with Fred Simons, the drama in the trauma center didn’t stop. As well as the usual parade of accidental injuries, two shooting victims arrived, sending the area in chaos. Family members, police, and friends of the victims filled the waiting room. When she’d finally clocked off and listened to Blake’s message, she’d immediately flashed back to her conversation the with odd man at Cafe Maris, and what he’d said about his boss.
‘He is not as eccentric as is claimed in the press, and any rumors you may have heard, or may hear, you must take them with a grain of salt.’
Whatever Blake’s concerns about George Barrett, after another crazy night in the emergency room, the offer to work for him seemed more appealing than ever.
Finally in bed, lying in the dark, though her body was drained her head was spinning with a million jumbled thoughts. Staring at the ceiling, missing Blake’s strong warm body next to hers, she wondered about the other part of his message.
‘I had a bit of a mishap at work today.’
She sensed the casual piece of news belied the extent of what had happened, and she couldn’t help but worry.
What does that mean, a mishap? He sounded tired, but other than that I didn’t detect anything else in his voice. I hope he’s okay. Shit. Ten grand for five days. I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t turn that down, I’d be crazy. I wish Stephen Davis had been around tonight. I need to talk to him, not that I would have had time. He didn’t say anything bad about George Barrett, just that celeb’s could be demanding. How demanding could George Barrett be? He’ll be in bed the whole time, and he’s like a church mouse. He never even talks. He just stares at me with that panicked look on his face.
Closing her eyes she tried to drift off, but it was impossible. Slipping from her bed, she made her way to the kitchen to heat up some milk. She knew drinking milk as a sleep-aid wasn’t just an old wive’s tale. Milk contained tryptophan, a mild relaxant, and she’d found it worked most of the time.
Filling a mug she placed it in the microwave, then wandered across to the window to gaze out at the night as she waited for the beep. It was quiet, though she could hear the distant sound of a car alarm and some dogs barking in response. Glancing down at the street something caught her eye, and she squinted, trying to determine what it was s
he was looking at. It took her a minute, but she finally realized it was a dark sedan with the interior lights on, and someone was inside reading a newspaper
“That’s strange,” she muttered. “I wonder if it’s a cop on a stakeout. If it is he’s not being very careful.”
The microwave beeped, and moving away from the window she collected her mug and headed back to bed. Settling between the sheets she turned on her television and flipped through the channels, and though she began to yawn she could still feel the tension in her neck and shoulders.
I need a massage, no, I need to think this through in a place where I can completely relax. Blake, I miss you. I wish you weren’t working. I’ll bet you’ll be up at the crack of dawn again, off to do all kinds of crazy things. I can’t believe how much I miss you. I know you’re worried about this Barrett guy, but I can’t see the problem. I think you’ve just heard too many stories. Hollywood is probably full of them. I wish I was at your house. It’s so quiet there, so serene. If you weren’t working I’d ask if I could come up in the morning and just hang out and clear my mind. Hmm, come to think of it, you told me I could go up there whenever I wanted. I wonder if it’s too soon to do that. Probably is.
She was suddenly hit by a wave of fatigue, and switching off the television, she placed her empty mug on the nightstand, turned off the light, and slipped back under the sheets.
“I need the money,” she mumbled as she closed her eyes. “That’s not true, I don’t need it, but it would great to have it. It would give me some breathing space. Mishap. What does that mean? Mishap?”
Yawning again, with her handsome, sexy, Dominant stuntman center stage in her mind, she surrendered to her much needed rest and finally fell asleep.
When her phone rang in the morning she was already awake but still in bed. After her exhausting night at the hospital she was taking her time getting up. Hoping it was Blake, but knowing it was probably too early for his call, she reached for her cellphone. She immediately recognized the number. It belonged to Fred Simons.
“Shit. Why is he calling me so early?”
She almost let it go to voice mail, but her curiosity kicked in and she hit ACCEPT.
“Hello?”
“Miss Harris, it’s Fred Simons. I am at the hospital. It’s been decided that Mr. Barrett will be released the day after tomorrow. When can we expect an answer from you?”
“That soon? An answer? I’ll call you, or see you there this afternoon,” she said decisively. That will give me time to talk to Blake.
“Excellent. I look forward to speaking with you then. Goodbye.”
He had ended the call, and placing her phone on her bedside table she crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.
“Dammit,” she muttered. “I wonder if the hospital will give me the time off or if I’d have to hand in my notice. Let’s be real, I want to leave, but five days living in a strange house with strange people. I guess I have to agree with Fred Simons. I can do anything for five days.”
Jumping out of bed she showered and dressed, and on an impulse she decided to drive to the cafe where she’d first met Blake.
A wonderful cup of coffee, a fresh baked croissant, and maybe a walk along the beach, that should clear out the cobwebs.
Grabbing her bag and a light jacket in case it was needed, she headed to her car, backed it out of the garage, and started down the short block to turn on to Pacific Coast Highway, but as she neared the intersection she let out a groan. There had been a major collision.
A couple of tow trucks were there, several police cars with their lights flashing were around the intersection, and the traffic lanes headed in the direction she needed to drive had been closed. The cars in front of her were turning around, going back to wherever they came from.
“Oh, no, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she groaned.
Not sure whether to go home or head towards Malibu, she decided on the latter. Nearing the corner she could see there was a cop directing traffic, and turned on her right-hand signal as she rolled her car forward. Glancing in her rear view mirror she noticed a line of cars behind her, and when she spied a dark grey sedan a few cars back it caught her attention.
That looks like the car that was on the street last night? Now I’m just being paranoid. There are thousands of dark grey sedans in L.A. Get a grip girl.
She’d reached the intersection and the cop waved her forward, but stopped the cars behind her. As she headed down the highway she let out a sigh. It was a perfect day, the sun was sparkling off the water, joggers were trotting along the beach, and she was about to swing into a parking lot and take a walk along the sand when the patio in front of Blake’s house flashed through her mind.
“Darn it, he said I could go to his house and I really want to,” she mumbled. “It could be my last chance for a week, not that a week is very long, but still. I’ll make some tea, gaze at the view, and make my decision. When he calls I’ll tell him I’m there. I’ll bet he’ll be happy I took him up on his offer.”
It was a few minutes later that she turned off Pacific Coast Highway and headed up the twisting canyon road. She soon found herself approaching the entrance to Blake’s house, and slowing her car, she rolled into the driveway, but as the front of his home came into view, so did the sight of several cars.
What the hell? Oh, shit, he must be here, and he has visitors.
Wanting to turn around and leave, she quickly realized there wasn’t enough room to do a full circle. She’d either have to drive up to the motor court, or turn, back-up, and turn again. Alarmed, trying to decide what to do, she suddenly saw Blake’s protege running towards her.
“Oh, great,” she mumbled.
“Hi,” he grinned as she lowered her window. “How are you? Is Blake expecting you?”
“No, no, I, uh...”
Her voice trailed off as a wave of panic hit. Blake’s tall frame was walking towards her car.
“Thanks, Josh,” Blake called as he neared. “Go on back to the house. Make sure everyone has coffee, or whatever it is they want.”
Belinda could feel a hot flush cross her face, and dropping her eyes to her hands she tried to convince herself she’d done nothing wrong.
He said I could come up whenever I wanted. I shouldn’t be feeling so flustered, or guilty. I haven’t done anything wrong.
“Hey, this is a surprise, a great surprise,” he declared.
His voice was calm, not upset at all, and feeling somewhat reassured she started to lift her gaze.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you... holy crap, what happened?”
The upper right side of his face was swollen and turning various shades of yellow and purple.
“A mishap,” he said opening her car door.
“A mishap? That’s not a mishap. Did someone hit you with a baseball bat?”
“I fell down some stairs. I’ll tell you all about it later. I’m so happy to see you, but why are you here? Did you come to check on me? Do nurses have some kind of psychic power?”
“What? No, I came up here to clear my head. I have to make a decision about the job offer from George Barrett. I thought if I sat on your patio I’d be able to relax a bit and make up my mind. Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”
The words had spilled out of her in a tumbled rush, and Blake gazed down at her, completely aware that she was feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable.
“It’s absolutely fine that you’re here,” he said patiently. “Better than fine. Don’t look so worried. I meant what I said. You can come up here anytime. Let’s get back to the house. I have a meeting going on.”
“Sorry,” she said again. “I assume you’re home because of, what did you call it, your mishap?” she said pointing at his face. “I’d like to check it for you. It looks awful. I’ll bet you have a doozy of a headache. Are you dizzy? Obviously you saw a doctor. Did he say if you had a concussion?”
“Hey, easy girl,” he said moving his hand down her back. “Yeah, I’ve got a helluva
of headache, that’s why I had everyone come up here. I have a guy who’s going to pinch hit for me today, maybe tomorrow as well. I had him come here with the rest of the gang. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to go in today.”
“Will you be going in? Please tell me you’re not.”
“I’m not sure yet. I might for a little while, just to make sure everything is working right. Josh can drive me.”
“Blake, that looks bad,” she said softly.
They’d reached the house and he turned to face her.
“If I do decide to go in I won’t be doing anything except watching. You’re welcome to come inside if you want. We’re meeting in the bar so you won’t be in the way. You can make yourself a cup of tea, have something to eat. I’ll be done in about an hour or so.”
“I’m so worried about you,” she sighed.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“Yes, it is. I’m a nurse, remember? I know exactly how bad it is. You could get hit with a dizzy spell at any time.”
“I’ll talk to you soon,” he said with a soft smile, and kissing her lightly on the lips he walked into the house.
She watched him disappear, staring after him, feeling slightly sick to her stomach. Deciding to have a cup of tea and sit down for five minutes, she walked slowly through the front door and into the kitchen. She could hear the men talking, though she couldn’t make out the conversation, and as she put the kettle on to boil, she gazed out the windows at the mountains.
I’m going to take the job. The trauma center has become nothing but a nightmare. Poor Blake. He’s a mess. I can’t believe he’s going into work. That’s just stupid, really stupid. He needs at least twenty-four hours of rest after a hit on the head like that. Hmm, I’m probably sticking my neck out here, and he may not like me doing this, but if I’m not going to be around to take care of him, the least I can do is make sure he gets one full day of rest before I disappear.
Chapter Twenty-Five
As the meeting in the bar continued, Belinda spent some time surreptitiously watching from the hallway, her eyes glued on Blake. Her fears were realized when he stood up to walk to the bar but had to sit back down. Though he didn’t say anything she knew he’d had a giddy spell. He needed to be resting.
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