by Emerson Rose
“Thank you. You’ve been busy.”
“It’s good to have something to do. Without Mr. Lennon here, it was dull.”
“Have you spoken to him? Since he’s been home, I mean.”
“No, Fiona has been planning the get-together with me. Why?”
“Oh, nothing. I’ll go upstairs and unpack.” He glances up again, and my cat carrier catches his eye. He stares at it for a moment and then up at me. “How do you feel about cats?” I ask realizing I should have checked with him about allergies or fears as well as Lennon.
“Cats? I think they are okay but…”
“But what?”
“Mr. Lennon has never been one to like animals in the house.”
“Oh. I asked him specifically about bringing Bikini with me, and he said it was fine. Is that not like him?”
He raises his eyebrows as an answer. “I’ll keep her in my room and double-check with him again.” He nods, and that uneasy feeling is back in the pit of my belly. I climb the stairs, and Bikini starts in with a low growl in the back of her throat that she usually reserves for the birds who land on the deck and invade her space. Animals are intuitive. I hope she’s not warning me of something.
Lennon’s bedroom door is closed. I open the door to the right of his and enter a suite fit for a queen, complete with white silk curtains with a pale lavender leaf pattern on them, a canopy bed with more of the same curtain material draped over the top, and no less than twenty decorative pillows on the bed. It looks like Callahan has made an attempt to lighten up this room for me with the bedding and curtains, but surely, he didn’t replace anything in the amount of time it took me to run home and return.
The curtains are pulled wide open, letting the sunlight pour into the room and more freesia flowers sit in a vase on a small table near the window next to a wide chaise lounge. It’s the perfect place to sit and read, something I hope to have an opportunity to do while I’m here.
Bikini meows and turns around in her carrier. I close the door and let her out to explore the room while I search for a closet to store my things in. Next to the door to the ensuite bathroom is the closet, a near replica of Lennon’s except instead of dark wood, it’s all done in pale ash wood, much more to my liking.
I wonder whose room this used to be. His half-sister’s maybe? A mistress? Ugh, I hope not a mistress. When my things are hung, taking a minuscule fraction of the space in the closet, I head to the bathroom to put away my toiletries and shower. It’s getting late, and I need to get ready for the party.
I wonder if Kelly was invited. I wonder if she will show up even if she weren’t. She seems like the type who would crash any party any time under any circumstances. I can’t believe she took off this morning when Lennon was seizing. How do you walk away from someone you love when they’re in trouble?
You don’t. She doesn’t love him, she only loves his money. Who am I to say that, though? Maybe there’s more to the story than I don’t know.
I shower in a large, glass box of a shower with Bikini pawing at the glass trying to get in the entire time. When I open the door, she runs in and starts to lick the floor, reminding me that she needs her bowl of food and water to be put out along with her litter pan. “Sorry, baby, I’ll fix you up after I dry off. She gives me a disgusted look and goes back to licking the drain, something I wouldn’t usually allow, but this bathroom is cleaner than my kitchen at home.
I wrap in the warm towel left by Callahan and get Bikini her water, food, and litter pan. I leave it in the bathroom in case she spills which she’s been known to do, a lot.
When she’s happy, I dry off, apply lotion, and take off my shower cap that I used to keep my hair dry. I smooth it into a low ponytail and add a touch of mascara and lip gloss before slipping into a bright orange sundress that makes my dark skin glow.
I give myself a once over, slip on a pair of gold strappy sandals, and kiss Bikini goodbye. “You be a good girl while I’m gone, okay? I don’t think I can afford to replace anything in this room if you ruin it.” Her whole body vibrates in a deep purr as I scratch behind her ears. She’s curled up on my bed, tired after exploring. I think it’s safe to leave her by herself, but I cross my fingers just in case.
When I step out into the hall, I hear Fiona laugh and Lennon talking in his bedroom, and jealousy rears its ugly head, surprising the hell out of me. Where did that come from? I’m not the jealous type, or at least I never have been before. Not to mention I know those two have been good friends for years.
I do my best to shake off the feeling and knock on the door. “Come in,” Fiona says. Inside she is standing at the foot of the bed wearing an adorable halter dress with seventies-type stripes. She must have brought a change of clothes. Her hair is smoothed down and tucked behind her ears, which is a big change from her normal wild, unruly pixy cut.
Lennon is sitting on the edge of his bed looking more handsome than I’ve ever seen him in a pair of khaki shorts and a yellow golf shirt. His face is clean shaven, and he looks as if he’s had a haircut.
“Wow, you guys look amazing. Did you get a haircut?” I ask wondering how on earth Fiona got him an appointment on such short notice, not to mention how did she get him there and back so quickly.
“Yes. Fiona cuts my hair. Apparently, I’m cheap.” He shrugs one shoulder, and I laugh. This wealthy man is cheap?
“If you’re cheap, it sure doesn’t show,” I say.
“That’s the trick,” Fiona says. “Spend like you’re poor, and you’ll always be rich is something Lennon taught me years ago when I was broke.”
“That makes a lot of sense.”
“Of course, it does. I said it,” Lennon says with a snort.
“I’m pretty sure he’s totally back to normal,” Fiona says, rolling her eyes.
I perk up when she says that. “So, this is normal behavior for him?” I ask.
“Uh, yeah, duh. He always thinks he’s right. He might not say so out loud all the time, but you know he’s thinking it.” She narrows her eyes and looks back at Lennon. “Irritating thing is, he’s usually right.” Lennon looks smug.
That’s good to know. Not the part about him thinking he’s right, a lot of men think that way. It’s the fact that Fiona feels he is acting like himself that settles my nerves. Maybe this is the real Lennon Berkshire after all. Maybe we could be more than a nurse and patient.
“You look beautiful, Angel,” Lennon says, and I feel my cheeks getting hot. He hasn’t called me that in front of anyone before, and it sounds much too intimate
Fiona looks like the cat who swallowed the canary, but she doesn’t say a word.
“Thank you. Callahan made up the room next door, and I’m all settled in. I got ready here.”
Fiona claps her hands bouncing on the balls of her feet. “All right, let’s get this party started.”
“How are we going to get him downstairs?” I ask. He still can’t put a lot of weight on that foot of his, and even with both Fiona and me, we can’t get him down there alone.
Fiona holds up a finger. “Oh, I almost forgot. I brought crutches.”
Of course, she did. She’s on top of everything all the time.
“I was going to bring a walker just to be ornery, but I figured it might be a turn-off for Trinity, oh I mean, Angel.”
Oh my God, she has to stop with the insinuations.
“It’s a damn good thing you didn’t, or we would be having the party up here in my bedroom. No way am I using a walker.” He says walker like it’s the dirtiest word in the English language.
“So vain,” she scoffs, and he harrumphs. I can’t help myself, and I giggle at their banter and the thought of everyone up here eating grilled chicken and shish kabobs in his bed.
“I knew you had a good sense of humor, woman,” Fiona says. “I’ll be right back. I left the crutches in my car. Keep your clothes on while I’m gone.”
“Fiona!”
She holds up her hands. “Just kidding, just kidding
. Well… sorta,” she says and hurries from the room.
“She’s incorrigible,” Lennon says, leaning back into the pillows. I step to his side and help him lift his bad leg onto the mattress.
“I agree with you on that one. It’s like you have to love her, but she makes you crazy at the same time.”
“Yes, exactly.” He pulls me down to sit next to him on the bed and rests his hand on my bare knee.
“Did you get any rest while I was gone?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation light.
“With her around, no way. She dragged me out of bed, cut my hair, shaved my face, and threw me in the shower while she picked out my clothes. I feel like a new doll she got for Christmas.
“You’ll have to take it easy tonight then. Don’t drink and get to bed early.”
His hand slides up my leg, and I squirm. “I like the part about going to bed early but only if you come with me.”
I sigh, exhausted at trying to resist this man. “I’ll wear you down eventually. You may as well give in now and save yourself the trouble of fighting it.”
“Are you even capable of seeing things from my point of view? Would you sleep with someone you were defending in a life or death case? This is my profession. I can’t break the rules just because I feel like it. I’m here to take care of you, not fall in love with you.”
I didn’t intend on using the word ‘love,’ and it hangs there in the air between us for too long. He stares at me, looking like he is trying to choose his words wisely.
“You’re right, I hadn’t thought of it that way. I would never put my feelings or needs before those of my client.”
“Thank you, I’m glad you understand.”
“I do, that’s why I’m going to fire you as my nurse.”
“What? I just moved my things in and changed my schedule for the next two weeks for you.”
“I didn’t say I wanted you to leave. I want you to stay as my friend, a friend who’s helping me out after an accident. If it weren’t you, it would be Fiona. Except, I wouldn’t want to do this with her.” He pulls me down and covers my mouth with his, sliding his hand around my waist and the other behind my neck. It’s a deep kiss full of meaning and passion, and my insides feel like they are on fire and being doused with ice at the same time—thrilling, hot, exhilarating, and full of need.
No man has ever had this effect on me. I’m shocked at how a simple kiss awakens so many sensations inside me—sensations that have been locked away and protected for years and kept safe, so my heart cannot be broken.
I feel his fingers digging into my waist as if he’s holding himself back. I’m equally grateful and frustrated. I want him, all of him, but even though he has the professional thing worked out between us, that still leaves the issue of his condition. This might not be the real Lennon. He could be experiencing the nightingale effect where a patient falls for the caregiver who he believes saved him.
“Lennon, we can’t,” I gasp trying to break the kiss. He won’t have it, though. Instead of moving away, he deepens the kiss until I feel his need for me in my bones. His hand slides from my hip and between my legs when I hear Fiona clear her throat.
“You two are like rabbits, I swear. Every time I leave you alone, you’re pawing at each other.”
“A little privacy would be nice in my own home, Fiona,” Lennon says, dropping back onto his pillow.
“Yeah, well, that’s not gonna happen with me around. Anyway, we have a party to get to. Here are your crutches, old man. Get outta bed, and let’s get moving.”
He looks at me with eyes full of apology, but I’m glad she stopped us. I mouth, ‘it’s okay,’ to him and move off the bed. Fiona and I help him to his feet and stand on either side of him as he makes his way to the hall.
“Do you think you’ll be able to go down the stairs all right?” I ask.
“He has an elevator at the other end of the hall,” Fiona says and snaps her gum loudly.
“That’s convenient.”
“My father broke his hip when I was younger. He had it put in so he could get up and down in his wheelchair,” Lennon says, and Fiona and I stop in the middle of the hall.
When he realizes we aren’t with him anymore, he looks back. “What’s the matter with you two? Aren’t you coming?”
“You remembered your dad broke his hip,” Fiona says.
“I’m remembering a lot of things,” he says.
“That was a long time ago, like I think you were seven years old. You told me the story the first time I saw the elevator.”
“This house is going to be your cure,” I say.
“I hope so. I’m tired of feeling like I’m in limbo between two worlds.”
I walk to where he is and rub his back. “Those worlds will mesh soon. I can feel it.”
The doorbell chimes as we step into the old elevator. I think I should have taken the stairs. This thing doesn’t feel safe.
“Right on time,” Fiona says.
“Who?” I ask.
“It has to be Hunter and Edie. They’re never late for anything.”
The rickety elevator stops, and the doors slide open in time to see Callahan welcoming Hunter and Edie and Layna. Damian is out of town so they must have picked her up.
“Hey, look at you up and walking around,” Hunter says, crossing the foyer.
“Yes, wow, what a transformation,” Edie says, hugging Fiona.
“You all know Trinity, don’t you?” Lennon asks, and the group collectively answers yes.
“Let’s go out on the patio where there’s no pool,” Fiona says, and I give her a curious look.
“She wants me to ruin my gardens and put in an Olympic size pool. I won’t do it,” Lennon says, answering my question.
“I never said it had to be Olympic size, just something to take a dip in on hot days when we have a barbecue,” she says, defending herself.
“We? Are you living here now, Fiona?” Hunter asks, and Lennon laughs.
“You’d think so the way she’s been bossing me around,” Lennon says, and Fiona rolls her eyes.
We move slowly as a group to the kitchen where everyone greets Callahan like he’s an old friend, which he probably is. Outside, there is a long table that could seat at least a dozen or more people. It’s set much too formally for a simple barbeque. Flowers spill from four vases down the center of the table, a periwinkle tablecloth hangs half way to the ground, and a wrought-iron gazebo with a few hundred twinkle lights stands over it all.
“This is beautiful,” I gasp.
“It’s not like the barbecues at Hunter’s house, that’s for sure,” Fiona says.
“I love our barbeques,” Edie says.
“Oh, I do, too. I’m just sayin’ when ‘ol Callahan plans a party, he does it up royal style,” Fiona says.
We all take a seat at one end of the table, and Callahan brings out a bottle of blush wine.
“Is Evan coming?” Hunter asks.
“Yes, he should be here soon. He didn’t work today, so he can’t use the hospital as an excuse to be late. Jace is coming for sure, but I’m not sure about Cole. He’s kind of unpredictable lately,” Fiona says.
“Cole? He does the social media thing?” Lennon asks.
“No, that’s Jace. Cole makes movies and sleeps with flocks of women,” Hunter says with a chuckle.
“Movies, what kind of movies?” Lennon asks.
“So far nothing anyone knows about, but he always says his next one will be a giant blockbuster. He’s good at what he does, and his dad is a screenwriter, so I’m sure he’ll get his big break soon,” Hunter says.
“That feels familiar,” Lennon murmurs.
I try to guide the conversation away from Cole. Evan has been telling me how worried he is about their friend’s mental health and drinking. I don’t want to take the risk of Cole walking into that conversation.
Callahan steps out onto the patio. “Would you like me to wait for the others before serving appetizers?”
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br /> “Bring ‘em on. They snooze, they lose,” Fiona says, throwing her hands in the air. I almost spit out my wine trying not to laugh. The differences between she and Callahan are so in your face, it’s hilarious. Who has appetizers at a barbeque? And if it’s such a formal get-together, shouldn’t we wait for everyone to arrive before eating?
“Very well, Ms. Fiona,” he says, retreating into the kitchen.
She looks across the table at me. “What?” she asks with wide eyes.
“You’re such a nutter, Fiona,” I say.
She makes a face and sticks out her tongue at me, and I let go and laugh along with everyone else.
“Hey, there, what’s so funny?” Evan says, joining us from the kitchen.
“Evan!” the group calls collectively, and he makes the rounds hugging everyone before sitting down.
“So, what’d I miss?”
“Nothing, just Trinity stating the obvious, that Fiona is a nutter,” Hunter says in a terrible British accent.
“You’re just now figuring that out?” Evan asks.
“No, I think I knew,” I say.
“Is this going to be a gang-up-on-Fi party? Cuz if it is, I’m outta here,” Fiona says with a pout.
“No, we love your crazy ass,” Hunter says.
The French door opens again, and Jace is standing there practically holding Cole up. “Hey all, can I get a hand?” Jace says, and Hunter and Evan jump up.
“What happened to him?” the men ask.
“Nothing happened to me,” Cole says, slurring his words terribly. He’s drunk.
“I don’t know how he made it here without killing himself or anyone else. When I drove up, he was on the ground next to his car,” Jace says as they ease Cole onto a chaise lounge to rest. He’s asleep before they walk away.
Hunter shakes his head, returning to his seat. “This has to stop. He needs help,” he says.
“The movie guy is an alcoholic?” Lennon asks.
I find it interesting that he has trouble remembering things about Cole. He doesn’t remember Kelly either. They both seem to be people with unpleasant backgrounds. Maybe he doesn’t want to remember them, so his brain has blocked them out?