last good nerve. “Zahara, what is your problem?” she questioned, both hands falling to her hips. “Specifically, what is your problem with me?”
Zahara moved out of the shadow she’d been standing in, moving into the light where Dahlia could see her. “I don’t like you,” she said as she took another slow drag of her cigarette then flicked the ash on the floor.
“Well, the feeling is mutual, so it’s a good thing that our professional relationship is now done. And I’ve told you before that there is no smoking in this building.”
Zahara took one last drag before she dropped her cigarette butt to the floor, twisting it beneath the toe of her high-heeled shoe. She blew the smoke in Dahlia’s direction, the wealth of it billowing in her face. “I made this movie,” Zahara said finally. “You need to remember that. Without me, Passionate wouldn’t be anything but dribble.”
Dahlia bit her tongue, instinctively wanting to tell Zahara Ginolfi exactly what she thought of her. But she didn’t, knowing that was exactly what Zahara wanted. Dahlia had no doubts that were she to go off on Zahara Ginolfi it would show up on the internet before she got the last word out. Instead, she did what she knew would irritate Zahara the most. She agreed with her.
“You’re right, Zahara. Without you there would be no movie.”
For a brief moment Zahara stood with her mouth open, her eyes blinking. “I know,” she said finally.
“Well, now that we have that established, I don’t think there’s anything else we need to say to one another. You have a good life, Zahara.”
Zahara sucked her teeth. “It won’t last.”
“What won’t last?”
“You and Guy. He deserves better. I’m sure he’ll figure that out soon.”
Dahlia smiled. “He already has,” she said as she pointed toward the studio exit. “And I’m sure he appreciates your concern. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to finish up here so that I can leave. Have a good night.”
Zahara watched as Dahlia turned her back and continued to pack her personal possessions. With one last look in her direction, Dahlia disappeared back into the sound booth.
Lighting another cigarette, Zahara savored the flavor of the first inhale, filling her lungs before blowing the stale air out past her thin lips. After the second drag she turned an about-face and headed for the exit, moving out into the evening air.
Guy Boudreaux sat in his car talking on his cell phone. With the top down he was reclined back in the front seat as soft jazz played on his car stereo system.
He met Zahara’s stare, tossed her a quick nod of his head and resumed his conversation, clearly not interested in conversing with her. Feigning disinterest, Zahara tossed her cigarette to the ground and headed for her own car. She was done with him, too.
Guy stole a quick glance at the digital clock in the dashboard. It had been well over thirty minutes since Dahlia had sent him a text message to say that she would only be a few minutes more. After he saw Zahara leave he would have gone inside to wait for her, but a call from his brother Darryl had held him hostage for longer than he would have liked. He was suddenly aware of it taking longer for Dahlia to come out than it should have.
“Hey, Darryl, let me call you back,” he said into his earpiece. “I need to go find Dahlia.”
“No problem,” Darryl responded. “Thanks for listening.”
“Anytime. And really, you need to listen to Mason. Asia is not the right woman for you. You need to let her go and stop trying to fix what’s broke.”
“I hear you,” Darryl acknowledged. “I’ll call you after she and I talk.”
Just as Guy disconnected the call, one of the studio’s security vehicles rounded the corner, coming to a screeching halt in the parking space beside him. In the distance he could hear the distinct sound of sirens drawing closer. The uniformed officer jumped out, excitedly pointing in the direction of the studio door. Panic suddenly washed over Guy. As the man rushed to his side, Guy looked toward where he pointed, noticing the smoke that billowed from the building for the first time.
* * *
Dahlia coughed; the smoke seeping beneath the closed door was beginning to take its toll. Outside, flames had engulfed the space, the fire consuming everything in its path. Dahlia had smelled the smoke first and when she’d gone in search of its source her path out had been blocked by the rapid rise of an inferno. With her purse and cell phone on the other side of the blaze there had been no way for her to call for help, and all she could do was wish and pray that something had triggered an alarm outside.
The temperature was beginning to rise with a vengeance. Sweat poured down Dahlia’s face, mixing with the tears that seeped from her dark eyes. All she could think of was Guy and all they’d planned for their future together. Everything he’d teased about was about to go up in flames, and she hadn’t even had the opportunity to tell him how much the possibility had meant to her.
Cowering in the corner of the room, Dahlia clutched her knees to her chest and rocked her body back and forth. It wasn’t supposed to end this way, she thought, wishing she’d had an opportunity to say goodbye, wishing she’d been able to tell him just how much she loved him.
As the smoke rose Dahlia’s cough erupted into waves of nausea and vomiting. Her face burned, and she couldn’t catch her breath. Confusion washed over her and all she wanted to do was sleep. Falling over onto her side, she curled her body into the fetal position, her tears drying as quickly as they fell from her eyes. As she felt herself beginning to drift off, she called out to Guy, wishing for him to come to her. In the distance she imagined that she heard him calling her name.
* * *
Guy could hear the voices, family and friends postulating about things being well, tones of sympathy meant to ease his anguish. He had the sense of his body being badly bruised, but the drugs that clouded his thoughts were keeping the pain at bay. And though he was acutely aware of the commotion happening around him all he could focus on was Dahlia.
But Dahlia wasn’t there. And he couldn’t reach her. And yet, his name on her tongue rang like sweet nectar against his ears. He called her name again and again, hopeful that he would be heard, and she would be there back in his arms where she belonged.
But all he heard from the voices were admonishments that Dahlia was well, they would both be fine and he needed to do nothing but rest. But respite was the last thing on his mind because Guy knew that until Dahlia was back in his arms nothing was going to soothe his soul.
Chapter 19
Neither Maitlyn nor Leslie were interested in managing the media. Both were grateful for the Communications Department at Cedars-Sinai Hospital; their team of professionals fielded all questions about how Guy Boudreaux and Dahlia Morrow were doing. At the request of their family they were releasing no details, respecting their right to privacy during their difficult time.
Clutching a cup of coffee between the palms of her hands, Leslie fought back the urge to cry, her foot tapping anxiously against the floor. Maitlyn paced from one side of the hospital waiting room to the other, fighting a wealth of nerves. Every so often they’d lock gazes, neither believing that such a tragedy could have put them in this moment.
The quiet was suddenly interrupted by the entrance of the Boudreaux family, Guy’s parents and siblings joining them as they waited for news. Maitlyn fell into her father’s arms, her tears finally falling as she released the hurt that had weighed down her spirit. She cried, and the patriarch held her until she was able to give them information about her brother’s condition.
Leslie was also grateful for their arrival as she clung to her friend Phaedra and Guy’s brother Mason, the two sensing that she too needed to be hugged and held.
“How’s my baby?” Katherine Boudreaux questioned, fighting back her own tears.
“Tell us what happened,” Senior commande
d, pulling his daughter down to sit in a cushioned seat beside him.
Maitlyn swallowed hard, swiping at her eyes with a tissue before she answered. “There was a fire at the studio. Apparently, when it started Guy was outside waiting to pick up Dahlia. Dahlia was trapped inside, and the fire department says that before anyone could stop him Guy rushed into the building to try to get to her.”
Maitlyn took another deep breath before continuing. “They say the ceiling collapsed, and Guy became trapped beneath one of the beams. They were able to get them both out though....”
“Oh, my God!” Mrs. Boudreaux exclaimed, pulling a closed fist to her mouth. “I need to see him. Where’s my baby?”
Maitlyn shook her head. “They won’t let us see him yet, Mama. They both suffered severe smoke inhalation, and the doctors say Guy suffered some serious burns.”
Mason moved to his mother’s side, leaning to kiss her forehead as he squeezed her hands. He tapped a heavy hand against his father’s back. “I’ll go find out what’s going on,” he said, gesturing for Kendrick to join him.
Tarah moved to Leslie’s side, extending her hand in introduction. “Does Dahlia have family that we can call?”
Leslie nodded. “I’ve left messages for her brothers. I’ll keep trying to reach them.”
Mrs. Boudreaux nodded. “As long as she’s here, she’ll have family with her. We’re her family, too, and we’re not going anywhere until they’re both ready to leave this hospital.”
Leslie struggled to smile, her head bobbing up and down against her shoulders. Phaedra rubbed her gently against her back. “It’s going to be okay,” she said to her friend. “Dahlia is going to be okay.”
“They both are,” Katrina Stallion intoned, introducing herself and her husband, Matthew.
Minutes later Mason and Kendrick returned, a doctor in tow. The family came to their feet as he gave them a quick update on the condition of both of their loved ones.
“Mr. and Mrs. Boudreaux, my name is Dr. Mawaan Sharma. I was the admitting physician for your son and his fiancée. Mr. Boudreaux has been transferred to our burn unit. Your son suffered smoke inhalation, as well as second- and third-degree burns over forty percent of his body, mainly to his torso, arms and hands. Right now we have him fully sedated to minimize his pain levels. Under the circumstances he’s doing exceptionally well, but obviously his condition is serious and he has a long recovery ahead of him.”
“Can we see him?” Mrs. Boudreaux asked.
The doctor shook his head. “Soon. Right now we need to be concerned about infection, so we need to minimize all contact with him.”
“What about Dahlia?” Leslie questioned, her voice a loud whisper.
“Ms. Morrow is in ICU for the time being. She suffered severe smoke inhalation, as well. She and Mr. Boudreaux both are undergoing inhalation therapy. Ms. Morrow is fortunate that the few burns she suffered were minimal. We anticipate she’ll make a full recovery and be as good as new in a few weeks. We’ll keep you updated if anything changes,” Dr. Sharma said as he made his way out of the room.
Senior wrapped his wife in a deep embrace. “Everything’s going to be fine,” he whispered into her ear. “Just fine.”
His wife nodded. “All you kids need to be in prayer,” she said softly. “We all need to be praying for your brother and for Dahlia. We all need to be praying.”
As the family sat vigil in the waiting room, Kendrick flipped channels on the television, searching for something that might divert their attention if only for a brief moment.
“Kendrick, turn back,” Maitlyn suddenly shouted, jumping from her seat.
Everyone turned toward the TV, and Kendrick flipped back to catch the evening’s newscast. The station broadcasted an image of Guy and Dahlia in a quiet embrace. He turned up the volume so they could all hear.
“Ash from a cigarette sparked a huge fire at the former Trinity Film Studio in Hollywood, officials said at a press conference yesterday. A cigarette butt discarded in a pile of trash on the studio floor smoldered before igniting freshly painted stage sets in the late evening hours.
“According to investigators the fire grew to engulf the two-story facility, causing it to burn to the ground despite the efforts of firefighters, who battled it for over three hours.
“Award-winning movie producer Dahlia Morrow and actor Guy Boudreaux were rescued from the burning building, but suffered smoke inhalation and severe burns. The fire has shocked the film community where both dominated the movie industry. Recently linked romantically, the duo was filming Ms. Morrow’s latest movie, Passionate, starring Mr. Boudreaux and award-winning vocalist Zahara Ginolfi. No one has been charged, police have said. The status of the couple’s condition is unknown. We’ll have more information on the story as it develops.
“In other news...”
* * *
For two weeks Dahlia lay in bed, impatient for news of Guy and his progress. Leslie and Phaedra carried updates when they came, but Dahlia was anxious to see him for herself, to see Guy and know that he was okay.
Leslie informed her that Guy’s condition had finally been upgraded from critical to good and all of his family had been allowed to visit and see him at least once. Also, that his mother had maintained a vigil by his bedside, intent on not leaving the hospital until the day Guy was able to leave with her.
After three weeks Dr. Sharma finally cleared Dahlia to leave her room, granting her permission to see for herself that Guy, too, was getting better. Sitting in a wheelchair outside his room, peering through the open door, Dahlia knew that since they’d arrived his family had declared a positive energy campaign around both of their recoveries. No one was allowed to cry in his presence, or hers, and everyone permitted to see them was only allowed to give the two of them positive affirmations.
One nurse who’d deigned to suggest that it was a waste of time for the family to talk to him while he’d been in an induced coma was removed from Guy’s care so quickly that it had probably made the woman’s head spin. Guy’s mother and sisters had insisted everyone continue to talk to him, to uplift him with their energy, whether he could hear them or not.
Since his arrival in the burn unit Guy had survived two surgeries to remove the burned skin from his torso and arms. He’d had just as many to graft new skin in its place. Dahlia knew that the next month or so would involve long hours of painful therapy to get him back to the point where he was as good as new. Dahlia couldn’t fathom how Guy endured. But he did. And as she sat watching him, she saw that he was enduring it with much love and laughter.
As he caught sight of her in the entrance, Guy’s eyes widened with joy. He’d been desperate to see her as much as she’d wanted to see him, and he’d been anxiously waiting for the day the doctors gave her permission to come to his side, since he was unable to go to hers.
“Hey, you!” he called excitedly, wincing slightly as a wave of pain shot through his body. He grinned broadly, waving for her to come inside.
“Hey, yourself,” Dahlia responded as she rolled herself through the door, coming to a stop at his bedside. She reached out a hand to gently caress the fingers that were not covered by bandages. His brother Kendrick and sister Kamaya both greeted her warmly.
“We’ll give you two a little privacy,” Kamaya said, gesturing for her twin to follow.
Kendrick winked an eye as he closed the door behind them.
Dahlia stood to press her mouth to his, grateful to feel his lips on hers once again. “I missed you so much,” she whispered, tears misting her eyes.
Guy met her gaze. “Not nearly as much as I missed you. Are you doing okay, Dahlia? I was really worried. I just wanted to reach you, baby, but the fire... I tried and I couldn’t find you and...”
Dahlia pressed her index finger to his lips to stall the words. “I know you did, and when you get better I�
��m going to give you a good slap for putting yourself in danger like that. But for now, I’m fine. They’re going to release me tomorrow. We need to be worried about you. How are you doing?”
Guy shrugged. “I’ve been better. But hey, just think, it’s going to be one heck of a vacation!”
“Has Dr. Sharma said how much longer you’ll have to be here?”
“At least another week, but I’m doing really well.”
Dahlia took a deep breath. “I love you so much! I can’t believe this happened to us.”
“I can’t believe that I can’t touch you,” he said, gesturing with his bandaged arms.
Dahlia smiled. “You have a lifetime to touch me, Guy Boudreaux.”
“You sure you still want me, woman? I mean, with me being all crispy and everything?”
She rolled her eyes then looked directly into Guy’s eyes. “Of course, I still want you. And I’m not going anywhere,” she said, her eyes glistening as she stared deeply into his. “Like it or not, you’re stuck with me forever, Guy Boudreaux.”
Guy grinned back. “I really like the sound of that.” He pursed his lips, gesturing for a kiss. When Dahlia kissed him again, he grinned broadly. “I really do!”
Day in and day out Dahlia was by Guy’s side. Despite being released from doctors’ care herself, Dahlia ate, slept and lived wherever Guy was. His hospital room became her home, her bed a single cot tucked away in the corner. Despite the admonishments of his nursing staff to let them aid and care for him, Dahlia refused to not be there in case he needed her. From feedings to baths, to ensuring his medication was dispensed on schedule, there was nothing that she wasn’t willing to do for him.
When the doctors were ready for him to be moved from the hospital to a rehabilitation facility for a brief two-week stay, Dahlia sought out the best care facility in the state of California, ensuring that everything he needed was at his disposal.
“You are going to spoil me,” Guy said as Dahlia helped him to lift his legs back onto the bed and covered him with a white sheet.
Passionate Premiere Page 15