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The image of Malinda just before her death, dark eyes, pale skin and sunken cheeks, still haunted him and he’d hate to see the vibrant Callie Matthews fall into that dark abyss.
Callie had always been a professional, though, and she had never been late for anything. She was a bright spirit and he wanted to believe deep in his heart she was an innocent. Something was wrong.
He pulled his cell from his pocket and tried calling again while the photographer started taking down his equipment. A sinking feeling settled deep in his gut each time her chipper voice mail clicked on.
He’d left enough messages and texts, so he hung up and slid the phone back into his pants pocket.
“I’ll pay you for your time today, Mark,” Noah said. “Can we go ahead and reschedule for next Saturday? Same time?”
Mark nodded. “Sure thing. And don’t worry about paying me today. Things happen.”
Noah helped Mark carry the lighting and some other equipment to his waiting car. By the time all of that was done and Mark had left, almost another hour had passed and still there was no word from Callie.
If he weren’t so worried, he’d leave her be. She was an adult, after all. But there was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that something wasn’t right. Whether she was hung over or had been in an accident, he didn’t know.
Before he stopped at the assisted-living home, Noah thought he should at least drive by Callie’s place to check on her. She was, after all, alone in L.A. with no family here and no roommate. He just needed to make sure she was okay.
Endless possibilities flooded his mind. As morbid thought after morbid thought raced through his head, his cell rang. Panic filled him instantly, but relief slithered through. Hopefully that was Callie on the other end ready to apologize for being late.
But when he glanced at the caller ID and saw Private Caller, his hope died. He punched the button on his car to put the call on speaker as he drove down the freeway toward her apartment.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Foster?”
Not recognizing the voice, he answered, “Yes.”
“This is Marcia Cooper. I’m a nurse in the E.R. at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. We have a Miss Matthews, who was brought in to us. We tried calling one of her neighbors, but we couldn’t get her. Callie suggested we try you next.”
Fear gripped Noah, but if she’d mentioned his name and number she was at least coherent. “Is she all right?”
“I really cannot discuss her condition over the phone,” the nurse told him. “Are you able to come in?”
“I’ll be right there.”
Noah pushed the pedal farther, weaving in and out as best he could with the thick afternoon traffic. The thought of Callie hurting in any way made his stomach clench. He’d only known her to be vivacious, full of life and always smiling.
He understood the nurse was not able to disclose any information due to privacy laws, but knowing Callie was in the E.R. and not knowing her condition scared him more than before he’d gotten the phone call. Did she have a cut that just needed stitches? Had she fallen and hit her head? Had she been attacked?
Damn it. Where had she been when she’d gotten hurt?
A vision of his late fiancée crumpled on their bedroom floor flashed through his mind, but he quickly blocked the image. He couldn’t travel down that path. Right now, Callie needed him.
Noah parked in the doctor’s lot, thanks to his pass. He had privileges at several L.A. hospitals, including Cedars-Sinai, thank God.
He ran into the entrance and quickly made his way to the Emergency Department.
“Noah.”
He turned to see Dr. Rich Bays, an associate he knew quite well, coming toward him.
“You here for a patient?”
“Yeah,” Noah said. “Callie Matthews. Are you treating her?”
Rich nodded. “I am. She’s in room seven.”
“How is she?”
“I’ll fill you in as we go to her room.” Rich motioned for him to walk with him. “She has a deep facial laceration that extends from her temple down to her mandible and a fractured right clavicle. The CT scan should be back anytime and I’ll be in to let her know what it says. From what I’m told of the car accident, she’s very lucky things aren’t worse.”
Deep facial laceration. As a plastic surgeon, he’d seen some severe cases, but he didn’t even want to think how serious Callie’s case was because whatever was wrong, he would fix it.
“Is she being admitted for observation?” Noah asked.
Rich nodded. “For the night. Even if the scan comes back clear, she was unconscious when she was brought in.” Dr. Bays stopped outside the glass sliding door. “And when she goes home, she’ll probably need help.”
Noah nodded. “I’ll make sure she’s cared for.”
No doubt Callie would brush off the help, but he wasn’t letting her go through this alone. Either she’d stay with him or he could stay at her apartment.
Another thought slammed through him. How would this affect the role she’d just landed? Didn’t filming start soon?
God, he hadn’t wanted her to get the part, but he sure as hell hadn’t wanted her injured or scarred. Did she even know the severity of her wound? The broken bone would heal, but the injury to her face…
A deep laceration could take a year to heal, depending on the tissue that was damaged. Possible surgeries filled his mind. No matter how many she needed, he would be the one seeing to all of her medical care.
He needed to assess her injuries before he jumped to any conclusions. She might not be as bad as he was imagining…or she could be worse. That sickening knot in his stomach clenched so tightly he thought he’d be sick.
Noah knew one thing for certain, though. No other plastic surgeon was going to be putting his surgical hands on Callie. He’d do the job and make sure it was done right. Perfection in the O.R. was his life and he’d settle for no less with Callie.
“She’s in here.” Rich nodded toward the closed door. “I’m going to check to see if that scan is back yet. I’ll be back as soon as I learn anything.”
“Thanks, Rich.”
Noah steeled himself for what he’d see on the other side of the door and privacy curtain. He told himself that as a doctor he’d seen it all, but the thought of Callie wrapped and damaged scared him on a level he didn’t think still existed after he’d faced the hell he’d gone through in the past two years.
He wasn’t going to lie, wasn’t even going to try to deny the fear that coursed through him and nearly had a choke hold on him.
Too many times he’d seen Malinda at her worst. But he’d never seen Callie as anything but bright, smiling and joyful.
He knew he needed to be strong for Callie so he took a deep breath, eased open the door and stepped in. When he pulled aside the thick curtain, his knees nearly buckled. Her whole face, save for her eyes and mouth, was wrapped in white gauze, her hair puffed out in a matted mess around it. Her arm was in a sling to protect her broken collarbone. She looked so frail, so lifeless lying there.
He had to mentally distance himself from this or he’d never be strong enough to help her. Damn it, he had to be a friend first, not a doctor, not a boss and certainly not a wannabe lover.
As he eased closer to the bed, her eyes shifted to lock onto his.
“Hell of a way to get out of the photo shoot,” he said, trying to lighten the moment.
“God, Noah,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I was on my way to the shoot and a truck came out of nowhere… . I don’t remember anything between seeing a semi and waking up here.”
She started to weep and Noah’s heart constricted. Other than the happy tears in his office, he’d never seen her cry, had never seen anything from her but smiles and happiness—which was why he’d considered her the color yellow. Cheerful and sweet.
He wondered if she’d seen her face or if Rich had told her how bad the injuries were.
The doctor in Noah wanted to demand to see her chart so he could review it, but she needed to be consoled, needed to know everything would be all right. Because no matter what care she needed, he’d see to it himself. And he didn’t mean hire a nurse. He’d literally see to her every need personally. Even if he had to refer his clients for the next few weeks to a colleague, he would do everything in his power to make her comfortable and secure.
“Callie.” He moved over to the edge of the bed, taking her good hand in his. “There’s absolutely nothing to apologize about. Nothing.”
“I’m sorry to have to bother you, but I didn’t know who else to call when my neighbor wasn’t home,” she told him, trying to turn her head away.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” He squeezed her hand. “What can I do for you?”
She tried to shake her head, wincing at the obvious pain.
“Just try to relax.” He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’m not going anywhere, Callie.”
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, but her voice cracked as tears filled her eyes again. “I know they’re keeping me tonight, but I’ll have my neighbor take me home when I get released tomorrow. You don’t have to stay.”
“I’ll leave if you really want me to, but when you’re dismissed, I’m taking you home with me.”
She slid her hand from his and tried to roll over, only to gasp when she realized she’d rolled onto her bad side.
“Easy, Callie. Don’t be so stubborn. You’re going to need help, and since I’m a doctor, I think the best place for you is with me.”
She didn’t respond. Silence filled the room and Noah knew she didn’t want his help. Too bad. He wasn’t going to leave her like this.
“Do you want me to try your neighbor again?” he asked. “You can give me the number.”
“No,” Callie said softly. “I don’t need a babysitter. I know I need someone, but…God, Noah, I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to need someone.”
Before he could say anything further, Rich stepped into the room and slid back the curtain.
“CT scan looks good,” he said. “But I’m going to go ahead and get a room ready for you just for overnight observation. You were unconscious when you were brought in and I’d feel more comfortable monitoring you for a bit. You should be able to go home in the morning. Have you thought about who can help you there?”
“I’ll manage,” she told him, still keeping her face turned to the far wall.
“Miss Matthews, I can’t let you go without knowing you’ll be taken care of.”
Noah shot Rich a look and whispered, “I’ll take her.”
Rich merely nodded and left the room.
“I’m not going to stay with you,” Callie said. “I’ll be fine at home.”
“Then I can stay with you,” he told her, trying not to get angry over her stubbornness.
“I know I should have someone to help, but I’ll call my neighbor or you if I absolutely have to. I want to be alone.”
Noah refused to back down. “Well, that’s too bad. I’m going to help you, Callie, whether you want it or not. So you can decide right now if you want to be difficult or if you want to cooperate. The end result will be the same.”
Slowly, she turned to face him. “End result? And what is the end result, Noah? That I’ll never be able to start filming this movie? That my dream was just pulled out from under me? They won’t wait on me to heal, if I ever do heal. I’ll never be the same.”
God, he hadn’t wanted her to do the film, but he’d certainly never wished for anything bad to happen to her. And if he hadn’t insisted she model for him, she wouldn’t be in this damn bed wrapped up and broken.
Sobs tore through the room and Callie pounded the bed with her left fist. “Don’t you see, Noah? The end result is that my life and everything I’ve ever worked for were just taken away.”
Noah took her hand once more and laced his fingers with hers. “I’ll make this right, Callie. No matter what I have to do, I’ll make you whole again.”
Four
And how the hell could he ever come through with a promise like that?
He wasn’t God. He was a surgeon.
Unless scars were covered by skin grafts, they were permanent. The odds were in his favor that he could minimize the appearance, but what were the odds she’d be happy with even a minor scar? True, he’d been able to nearly rid her of the one on her chin with microdermabrasion, but it had been so minimal to begin with.
But he’d be a fool to believe that she’d be able to go after just any part. She was right in admitting her opportunities had just diminished, but he would still do everything he could to make her feel beautiful again, to make her confident enough to pursue that dream.
Right now, though, he had another obligation he needed to tend to.
Noah hated the mixed emotions flooding through him. He hated that he was now torn between his present and his past. He wanted to stay with her, but he had to get to the assisted-living facility.
He left Callie resting, as well as she could, considering, and headed out the door. If he hadn’t needed to see the afternoon nurse Thelma had been complaining about, he wouldn’t have left Callie’s side…no matter what she said.
For all he knew, the afternoon nurse was perfectly fine. After all, Thelma did have Alzheimer’s and still believed her granddaughter and he were engaged to be married. Noah had never told her any different. Why upset the poor woman when she wouldn’t remember it the next time he went to see her?
As he walked up to the front doors of the facility, he pulled his cell from his pocket and dialed Max. Of course the call went to voice mail because the man was rarely available. One of these days he was going to get really burned-out on work.
“Hey, Max,” Noah said after the beep. “I can’t make it tonight. Callie was in a pretty bad accident so I’ll be with her. Text or call when you get a chance.”
He slid the phone back into his pocket and entered the glass double doors. An elderly lady greeted him. It was the same white-haired lady who sat by the door every time he came to visit Thelma. Supposedly, the woman was waiting on her husband to come pick her up, but Noah had been told the lady’s husband had passed away over ten years ago.
Alzheimer’s was a fickle bitch and it sickened Noah that so many people were affected by it. As always, he smiled to the lady and made his way down the narrow carpeted hallway.
Thelma’s room was the last one on the left, and as usual, her door was closed. According to Malinda, she’d never been much of a social butterfly even before the disease. Since Noah never knew Thelma before she got sick, he had only Malinda’s opinion to go on.
Noah tried the knob, not surprised to find it locked. Tapping his knuckles against the wood door, he called out. “It’s Noah, Thelma.”
After a moment, he heard shuffling from inside the room before there was a soft click and the door eased open.
Her short silver hair was matted on one side and in the back—a sure sign she’d been asleep in her recliner again.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked, stepping into the room that inevitably was hotter than Satan’s personal sauna. Why did the elderly need their heat on full throttle in the middle of summer?
“A little tired today,” she told him, moving across the room to her old green chair positioned in front of the TV. “You caught me in the middle of my soaps.”
Noah laughed as he eased behind her to turn the heat down. His shirt was already sticking to his back.
“I won’t stay long,” he promised as he took a seat on the edge of the bed that faced her. “Did you have lunch?”
She stared at him, those blue eyes full of doubt and confusion. “I believe so. Can’t recall what I had. Let’s see…ham sandwich? No, that wasn’t it. Chicken soup. I think.”
Noah nodded like he always did. He knew she wouldn’t recall, but he was buying some time until the nurse was due in.
“Where’s Malinda today?” Thelma asked, her eyes widening and a smile spreading across her face. “I want to hear all about the wedding details.”
This was never an easy topic to broach. Not only because he still felt that emptiness Malinda had left in his life, but because he hated lying to this sweet woman, even if she wouldn’t remember the truth. Even with the disease robbing her memory, Thelma knew there was a void in her life.
“She couldn’t come today,” he said honestly.
“That girl works too hard,” Thelma replied as she pulled the handle on her recliner. “You tell her that her grandmother wants to see her. I have some wedding ideas I want to discuss with her.”
Noah nodded and smiled as always. Though the smiling was costing him. He hated standing there discussing a wedding that would never be, to a woman who was dead, with someone who wouldn’t remember this conversation five minutes later. But Thelma still had hope shining in her eyes and he wasn’t about to take away the one thing she held on to.
“I’ll be right back, Thelma.” He moved to the door and propped it open. “I’m just going to step outside your room to look for someone.”
She didn’t answer, but her soap opera had come back on and she had that tunnel-vision look as she smiled at the characters on TV.
Noah moved into the hall to look for the nurse. Thelma’s pills were supposed to be distributed with her breakfast and lunch and just before bedtime. But a few of her prescriptions hadn’t been refilled on time and Thelma had claimed she didn’t recall seeing the nurse at lunchtime very often. Thelma’s fading mind might be to blame, but he couldn’t take the chance that she wasn’t getting the best care.
When Noah saw the nurse in question come out of a room down the hall, he hurried to catch up with her.
“Excuse me, Lori.”
She turned and smiled. “Yes, Mr. Foster?”
“I was wondering if I could speak to you about Thelma.”
The nurse nodded as her eyes darted down the hall toward Thelma’s room. “Of course. Is something wrong?”
“Has she had her pills today?” he asked.
“She’s had all of the medication she gets on my shift. Why?”
He hated to think this nurse wasn’t doing her job, but he would keep a closer eye on the meds and make sure Thelma was getting her daily doses.
“No reason. Just making sure,” he said with a smile. “She forgets and tells me she hasn’t had any.”
Lori nodded and patted his arm. “It’s the disease. Robs their minds. I assure you she’s being taken care of.”
“Thanks. That’s good to hear.”
She dropped her hand. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to see to another resident.”
As she scurried off, Noah had that gut feeling that always settled deep within him whenever Malinda would lie to him about where she’d been. He wanted to believe Lori, but he wasn’t naive. He would keep his eye on her and make more appearances in the afternoon during lunch breaks. No matter the cost, he couldn’t let his late fiancée’s grandmother down. He was all she had left.
More than likely Lori was clean, but that cynicism ran deep and he had major issues taking someone’s word at face value.
As he went back to spend a few more minutes with Thelma, he checked his watch. He didn’t want to be gone from Callie very long. No matter how stubborn she was going to be during this process, he could be more so.
No matter what it took, he’d see Callie through her recovery, and if he had to lock her inside his house to do it, then so be it.
One woman was not only hurt on his watch, she’d died. He’d damn well never let that happen again. No matter how he had to rearrange his life.
And beyond the guilt lay an attraction that he couldn’t fight. But what scared him the most was that he didn’t know if he even wanted to.
Waves of emotions flooded through Callie as she settled into Noah’s luxury SUV. Her body ached all over from the accident yesterday, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional pain of having her dream of becoming an actress destroyed. She’d never act or model for Noah and she’d never get that money to send home.
She’d never be able to play her role in the Anthony Price movie, which would start filming next month. Her face was all bandaged up, but she’d seen the damage beneath. She knew the ugliness that waited for her on the other side of the white gauze. The role of a royal beauty couldn’t be played by a woman who looked like an Egyptian mummy.
All those thoughts whirled around in her mind, bumping into each other and exacerbating her nausea, brought on by meds.
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