A Hollywood Bride(45)

Ryder checks his phone and texts for a moment. He probably needs to cancel whatever appointments he has for the afternoon. I realize that even though I’m supposed to be his assistant again, I don’t know what he has scheduled for the day.

Finally he gets up. I put a hand on his forearm. “Don’t go,” I say.

“I’m not leaving. Just need to check on something.”

“Let me come along.” I don’t want to be alone with my dark thoughts. Renni and Gary don’t seem to know what to do either, Gary staring at nothing and Renni tapping her feet two hundred beats per minute—her little tick when she’s tense and worried. It seems like Ryder is our only steady anchor, and I need that.

He debates a moment, then nods. “Okay. Come on.”

We take an elevator to the top floor. He leads me down a hall until we reach a section marked PRIVATE, which of course means nothing to Ryder. He pushes the door open and walks in. A secretary in a regular street outfit of a blouse and slacks looks up. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure Rob Sanders will see me, assuming he’s available,” Ryder says, taking off his cap and sunglasses.

The woman’s eyes go wide with recognition. “Oh my god… Um, of course. Right this way.”

She takes us to a small conference room with a view of the parking lot. I look out onto gray, wet concrete and spot our Mercedes.

Within minutes, an enormous man walks in. Thicker than an old oak, he’s in a short-sleeve button-down shirt and black slacks that are held up by suspenders. His thick red beard covers a big portion of face, and freckles cover the rest. Other than the beard, he has no hair on his head.

“Good to see you, Ryder.”

Ryder shakes hands with him.

“And your beautiful fiancée. So lovely to meet you. I’m Rob, director of this fine hospital.” His big hand closes around me. He is surprisingly gentle and careful, a man very much aware of his own strength.

We all sit down at the table. “So. What can I do for you?” He winces apologetically. “Normally I’d spend more time on preliminaries, but I have an appointment in fifteen minutes.”

“It’s about a patient who just came in. Car wreck.”

“This damn weather,” Rob mutters, glancing at the rain outside.

“She’s pregnant,” Ryder says. “I have no idea what her insurance is going to cover, but I want you to do everything in your power to make sure she’s okay. If there’s a procedure that can increase the odds by even half a percent, I want you to do it. Don’t worry about the cost. I’ll cover it.”

I jerk my head his way, but Rob has already produced a pen and scrap of paper from some pocket or other.

“What’s the name?”

“Bethany…” Ryder glances at me.

“Uh, Smith. Bethany Smith,” I say. “Her husband’s in the waiting room. His name is Oliver.”

“Okay.” Rob jots both names down. “I’ll take charge of her care myself.”

“Appreciate it,” Ryder says.

“No problem. Tell your mother I said hello.”

“Will do.”

We exchange goodbyes and leave. Ryder puts his cap and sunglasses back on.

“Thank you,” I whisper as we take the elevator back to the first level.

“No problem.” He links his fingers with mine. “Bethany shouldn’t have to…” He swallows, then clears his throat. “Money shouldn’t come between her and the care she needs.”

I rest my head against his shoulder. He speaks as though it’s the most obvious thing, but not every person can be so open and generous. I’ve seen people in his social circles who are so tight-fisted they could make a penny squeak. “Don’t say it’s nothing. It means everything to Bethany and Oliver. And to me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

* * *


Ryder

We wait until a doctor comes out and tells us that Paige’s sister is stable for the moment. Even so, she can’t go home yet because they want to make sure she’s really out of danger, especially since she’s pregnant. He wants to limit her “excitement” and says only Oliver can see her.

Oliver tells us to go home and rest for a bit. It isn’t until then that I realize we’ve been at the hospital for close to five hours, and none of us have eaten.

Paige’s friends, Renni and Gary, had to leave earlier to go to work. She texts them both to update them.

By the time Paige and I finally exit the hospital, the rain’s stopped. The roads are a patchwork of wet and dry spots. I put a hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll drive,” I say, pulling out my keys. “We should stop by a restaurant on the way and get you fed.”