by Jae
The driver honked and finally managed to get them safely onto the street.
The paparazzi sprinted to their own cars to follow them.
Her mother waved two fifty-dollar bills over the half-raised privacy screen. “I’ll give you a hundred-dollar tip if you can shake them.”
Grace clung to the grab handle above the window as the driver stepped on the accelerator.
Her face ashen, Grace’s mother turned toward her and gripped her arm with both hands. “What were they talking about? What baby?”
Grace’s cell phone began to ring. Eager to escape her mother’s question, she pulled it out of her clutch. Lauren! The relief at seeing Lauren’s name on the display made her slump against the back of the seat. She slid her trembling finger across the display to accept the call and snatched the phone to her ear. “Lauren! They know! The paparazzi found out everything.”
After a moment of silence, Lauren said, “I know. Where are you?” She sounded tense.
“We just left the party. They were waiting for us outside.” The roaring of engines made Grace turn around.
The paparazzi must have called for backup. Other SUVs and cars had joined the pack tailing them.
“Great,” Grace said into the phone. “Now there’s a horde of them following us.”
The limousine sped toward a traffic light, trying to escape. When it turned red, the car in front of them braked.
Their driver was going much too fast.
Oh God! Grace dropped the phone to hold on with both hands.
Her mother screamed.
The limo swerved to avoid the collision. They clipped the car of a paparazzo who was trying to overtake them.
They spun, rotating across the street like one of the silver balls in the pinball game she’d played with Lauren. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Strangely distanced, Grace wondered why her life wasn’t flashing before her eyes. Was there nothing worth reliving?
The cars in the oncoming lane blared their horns. Brakes squealed and lights flashed as they spun. Then the limo crashed into something with a sickening crunch and came to a sudden stop.
Grace’s head slammed against something hard. Pain seared through her temple, her arm, and her chest. Glass splintered, and broken shards rained down on her. Someone screamed. Then everything went black.
“Grace? Grace!” Lauren yelled into the phone.
There was no answer.
Her stomach twisted itself into knots. For a moment, she thought she might puke.
Jill pulled her back from her panicked haze by shaking Lauren’s arm. “What happened?”
“I think they were in an accident,” Lauren mumbled. “Grace said the paparazzi were chasing them. Then I just heard someone scream and a crash.” She stared ahead through the windshield, willing their limo to move faster.
“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Jill said, but her face had lost all color.
“Yeah.” Lauren tried to tell herself that the last time Grace had been chased by paparazzi had turned out okay too.
But as they made their way back downtown, a fire truck and an ambulance passed them with wailing sirens.
Oh God, no. No. Not Grace. Lauren clutched the edge of the leather seat.
The sirens in front of them fell silent.
“There!”
The red-and-blue lights of police cruisers lit up the night. A battered-looking SUV blocked one lane. Then Lauren found the limousine. Smoke rose from its hood. It had slammed into a telephone pole, which had crushed one of the rear doors.
Where the passengers sit. A new wave of panic hit Lauren. “Stop!” she shouted at the driver. “Let us out here!”
“I can’t stop here, ma’am,” he yelled back. “Or I’ll cause another accident.”
As they passed slowly in the only open lane, Lauren watched helplessly as firemen surrounded Grace’s limousine. Were they prying open the crushed door? Or getting people out on the other side? She craned her head but couldn’t tell what was happening. It was driving her crazy.
“Turn!” she yelled at the driver.
“I can’t. There’s no place to turn here.”
Lauren didn’t want to hear a no. “Then find a place where you can.”
Before the driver could follow instructions, an ambulance passed them with blaring sirens, heading away from the accident site. Several paparazzi chased after them in their cars.
“Follow them!” Lauren and Jill shouted in unison.
The driver mumbled something about not being James Bond, but he stepped onto the accelerator and followed the ambulance as fast as safety allowed—which wasn’t anywhere near as fast as the ambulance went.
Lauren gritted her teeth as they lost sight of the ambulance, but by now, she could guess which hospital they were heading for. By the time the limousine pulled up to the hospital entrance, she was nearly jumping out of her skin with impatience and worry. She paid the driver, got out, and turned back to Jill. “He should drive you home.”
“Oh, no. If you think I’ll just go home, you need to think again.” Jill climbed out after her. “I’m coming in with you.”
“Okay. Then come on.” They ran toward the sliding glass doors.
The ER waiting room was packed with people. The sharp sting of antiseptic and cleaning agents seemed to linger in the air, but maybe it was just Lauren’s overactive imagination, which was busy showing her horrible images of Grace bleeding, screaming out in pain. She tried to shake these thoughts as they slid to a stop in front of the information desk.
A scrub-clad woman looked up from her computer screen. “Hi. What can I do for you?”
“We’re here for…” Lauren leaned over the reception desk and lowered her voice so she wouldn’t draw the attention of anyone around. “…Grace Durand.”
The nurse eyed her sternly. “This is a hospital. Hardly the place for stupid pranks.”
“What? No. This isn’t a prank.” Lauren pointed at her own grim face. “Do I look like I’m joking? She was just brought in by an ambulance.”
Still not looking completely convinced, the woman typed something into her keyboard and shook her head.
“Try Betty Duvenbeck.”
The woman hesitated for so long that Lauren wanted to jump the desk, push her aside, and take over the keyboard. Finally, the nurse typed again, read some information on her computer screen, and looked from Lauren to Jill and back. “Are you family?”
“Yes,” Lauren said.
“No,” Jill said at the same time.
Lauren groaned. “I’m her publicist, and she’s her best friend.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t give out information about a patient to anyone but an immediate member of her family.”
Lauren put both hands on the reception desk. “Please. Just tell us if she’s going to be okay.”
“Sorry. I can’t discuss a patient’s condition with you. It’s against hospital policy.”
Lauren’s hands on the reception desk curled into fists. “Listen,” she said, barely keeping herself from shouting. “I was on the phone with her when the accident happened. I need to know if she’s okay.”
“Ma’am, I—” A commotion outside drew the nurse’s attention.
Frowning, Lauren turned.
Nick rushed through the sliding doors while security guards pushed back a horde of paparazzi, stopping them from following him in.
Goddamn vultures. Lauren fought the impulse to storm out and knock some sense into them. They weren’t important now. Her only concern was for Grace.
Nick headed straight for her. “Katherine called me just as I was leaving the party. I got here as fast as I could.”
Katherine called him. So she was doing fine. But what about Grace?
&nb
sp; “How is she?” Nick asked.
“I have no idea. They won’t tell me anything because I’m not family.”
“But I am.” Nick turned toward the nurse behind the information desk. “I’m her husband.”
Lauren had never been so glad that the divorce hadn’t yet gone through.
The nurse gazed at him with starstruck adoration. “Hi, Mr. Sinclair.”
“Can you tell me how my…how Grace is?” Nick asked.
“The doctors are still with her, so I can’t give you any details. I’ll show you to one of our conference rooms and let the doctors know you’re there. Someone will be with you right away and give you an update on her condition.” The nurse led them down the corridor and didn’t say anything when Jill and Lauren followed Nick.
As soon as they reached the conference room and the nurse left them alone, Jill slumped into one of the chairs, but Lauren was too charged with adrenaline to sit.
Nick sank onto the chair next to Jill and ran both hands through his hair. “How the fuck did this happen?”
“Your girlfriend ran her big mouth to the press; that’s what happened,” Lauren ground out.
“Bullshit.” Nick vehemently shook his head. “Shailene would never talk to the press.”
“Yeah, but she bragged about her new family to a friend of hers.”
Jill lifted her head from where she’d leaned it on her folded arms on the table. “Guys, please. Fighting each other won’t help Grace.”
She was right. Lauren snapped her mouth shut.
After what seemed like an eternity but was probably just half an hour, a doctor came in.
Lauren was next to him with two long steps. Jill and Nick jumped up.
“Mr. Sinclair? I’m Dr. Ramirez. I’m responsible for treating your wife.”
Nick shook his hand. “How is she?”
“She’s got a broken arm, which needs to be set, but we’re sending her for a head CT first to make sure she only has a slight concussion. She’s also got some bruises from the seat belt and a few very small cuts. It could have been a lot worse.”
Lauren caught herself against the wall with one hand as relief weakened her knees.
“We’d like to keep her overnight for observation, just to make sure no complications develop,” Dr. Ramirez said. “If you want to see your wife before she goes to CT, the nurse will take you to her.”
Nick nodded and left with the doctor and a nurse.
Lauren stayed behind with Jill, wishing she could follow them to wherever Grace was and see for herself that she would be fine.
It seemed to take forever until a nurse finally came and said, “Ms. Durand is being moved to a private room, so if you’d like, you can see her now.”
She led them to Grace’s room.
Lauren’s chest constricted as she entered and got a glimpse of the woman in the hospital bed.
Nick had taken up position at the foot end of the bed and Mrs. Duvenbeck sat in a chair next to the bed, looking none the worse for wear, but Lauren had eyes only for Grace.
Grace’s face was as pale as the off-white walls of the hospital room. A couple of shallow cuts crossed her left temple. Her left arm, which rested on top of the covers, was encased in plaster. She smiled when she saw Lauren.
Jill rushed to her, interrupting the eye contact between her and Lauren. “Christ, Grace! You scared us. Are you in pain?”
“I’m fine.” Grace returned her soft hug as best as she could with only one good arm. “They gave me some pretty potent stuff.”
Hesitantly, Lauren stepped closer. “You’d do anything to get out of Good Morning America, wouldn’t you?” she said around that giant lump in her throat.
Grace laughed and then winced. “Damn. You found me out.”
“This is hardly the time or place for jokes,” Katherine said sharply. “We could have died because you weren’t there to do your job!”
“Mom, please. None of this was Lauren’s fault.” Grace raised her hand to her temple and nearly bashed herself in the head with her cast.
Her mother glared at Lauren but said nothing else.
“How’s the driver?” Grace asked, looking from Nick to Lauren and Jill and then to her mother.
“He’s fine,” her mother said. “You were the only one who got hurt since we crashed into the telephone pole on your side.”
“And the paparazzo whose car we hit? Is he fine too?”
Lauren stared at her. The paparazzi’s chase had caused Grace’s limo to crash, yet she was worried for their well-being? God, this woman was almost too good to be true.
“I have no idea,” her mother said.
“I’ll find out,” Nick said and left, looking as if he was glad to have a good excuse not to stay, now that he’d seen that Grace was stable.
Lauren knew she should leave too, take Jill home, and then get started on all the things she had to do now—canceling Grace’s interviews, taking a look at the social media sites and the gossip blogs to see how bad the damage to Grace’s public image was—but she couldn’t bring herself to move even one inch. She stood gripping the rail at the foot end of Grace’s bed, drinking her in.
Finally, a nurse came and asked them to leave. “Ms. Durand needs her rest.”
Jill bent and wrapped her arms around Grace in a gentle hug.
Then it was Lauren’s turn to say good-bye. She stepped around the bed.
“I think we need to cancel Good Morning America,” Grace said. “Probably The Today Show too.”
“Don’t worry. I’m on it. You just rest and get better, okay?” Lauren wanted to reach out and touch her so badly but was afraid of what she’d do once she felt Grace’s warmth against her fingers.
Grace nodded and looked up at her, her gaze a bit hazy.
For a moment, Lauren thought she saw the same longing in Grace’s eyes—the longing to be held and to forget the horror of the last few hours, but then she told herself that it was just wishful thinking. She lingered next to the bed, unable to tear herself away from their eye contact.
When Mrs. Duvenbeck loudly cleared her throat, Lauren turned away and followed Jill to the door, even though everything in her shouted at her to stay. Get yourself together. Now more than ever, Grace needed a professional, clear-thinking publicist, not an emotional wreck who’d gotten much too close to one of her clients. When she stepped out of the hospital, she squared her shoulders and put on her game face. It was time to worry about Grace’s career, not just about Grace herself.
Smoke filtered through the broken window of the limousine’s rear door, stinging Grace’s nose. Panicked, she looked around. Flames were licking along the hood. She’d seen enough of Nick’s action movies to know that the gas tank would explode within minutes. Oh God, oh God! She struggled to free herself of the seat belt, but the buckle wouldn’t give. Pain shot through her arm as she pulled, throwing her full weight into an attempt to break free.
The buckle held. She was trapped in the burning car.
Someone pounded on the car door from the outside but couldn’t get to her.
Grace screamed—and woke up. Her eyes popped open. It took her several seconds to realize that she wasn’t in the limousine anymore. She was in the hospital—and in Lauren’s arms.
For a moment, she thought she was still dreaming, but then the details filtered into her consciousness: the scent of Lauren’s perfume and her leather blazer, her warmth against Grace’s skin, separated just by a thin hospital gown, and the feel of the strong arms holding her.
“Are you okay?” Lauren whispered. Her warm breath washed over Grace’s ear.
Grace burrowed deeper into the embrace, laying her face against Lauren’s shoulder. “Oh God. I was trapped in the burning car.”
“It wasn’t real,�
�� Lauren said. “It was just a dream. You’re safe. Nothing can hurt you here.”
Grace allowed herself to remain in the comforting embrace for a little longer, until her racing heart slowed. Finally, she pulled back and peeked up at Lauren, hoping she hadn’t embarrassed her with that moment of weakness.
All she could read in Lauren’s hazel eyes was concern. There was no hint of judgment.
Her mouth dry, Grace looked around for some water.
“Here.” As if guessing what Grace needed, Lauren poured her a glass of water from a pitcher on the bedside table and handed it to her.
Grace drank gratefully and glanced about the room.
Lauren’s laptop lay abandoned on a chair next to the bed. She’d probably been here for a while, working and watching over her. Somehow, Grace wasn’t surprised to find Lauren by her bedside, almost as if she’d sensed her presence in her sleep. The rapid-fire clickety-clack of Lauren’s keyboard had even made it into her dream as someone pounding on the limousine door, trying to get in and help her.
“Where’s my mother?” Grace asked.
Lauren moved back to the chair. “She left to get you some clothes to wear home, just in case they let you go later today.”
Was it childish to instantly miss Lauren’s warmth next to her? Wow, that must have been quite the hit on the head she’d taken. She’d never been this clingy in her life.
Lauren studied her. “How do you feel?”
Truth be told, Grace felt as if she’d had a close encounter with an entire football team tackling her, but she didn’t want to worry Lauren unnecessarily, so she said, “Not too bad, considering how I probably look.”
“You’re beautiful.” Lauren’s cheeks colored as if she hadn’t meant to say it. She rose and put the laptop away.