Love Is a Breeze Page 5

  “Ready to go?” He asked, helping her off the gurney and into the chair. Brianna blinked back more tears and nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

  Mr. Sharp and the nurse helped her into his silver Mercedes. The crutches were stowed in the backseat. She leaned her head on the soft, gray leather headrest and closed her eyes.

  * * * *

  Brianna woke with a start when a hand touched her shoulder. She rolled onto her back, blinked and squinted in the dimly lit room until she focused on a tall figure standing beside the bed. She sat up with a groan, slowly piecing together the jumbled events of the past night.

  “How are you feeling?” She recognized the deep voice of her boss. He’s everywhere.

  “Much better than I smell, I’m sure.” She wrinkled her nose at the lingering, acrid odor of smoke surrounding her. The slight smile he gave her caused her heart to summersault. Damn! He’s going to give me a heart attack if he keeps doing that. She gulped. Even a half-smile brought a twinkle to his eyes.

  “Seriously, Miss Ryan, does your head ache? Are you nauseated?”

  “No, I’m actually kind of hungry.”

  “That’s a good sign.” He smiled again, turned and left the room leaving the door slightly ajar.

  Brianna surveyed her surroundings. Soft, gray walls, silver plush carpet she longed to sink her toes into, a wall of muted multi-colored silk drapes that matched the duvet on the queen-sized bed. The wall opposite the bed had two doors, one of which she hoped was a desperately needed bathroom. She debated for three seconds whether to attempt the trip on her own or call for help. Her pride chose the former.

  She swung her feet to the floor, reveling for a moment in the luxurious carpet. Her toes were not disappointed. Reaching for the crutches leaning against a small bedside chair, she stood up, adjusted the crutches under her arms and headed for the closest door. It was a walk-in closet. The door on the other end of the dresser was a bathroom. She caught her reflection in the large mirror above the white marble vanity. Her hair looked like it had a fight with a food processor and lost. She wore a Notre Dame football jersey – only a football jersey. She stared into the mirror, the black jersey accented the paleness of her complexion. The realization hit her as to the only possible explanation of how it came to be on her. A flush warmed her cheeks and flooded her body.

  She re-entered the bedroom and saw her clothes, clean and neatly folded on the corner of the bed. She sat down next to them just as Mr. Sharp came in carrying a tray laden with a small teapot and cup, a glass of orange juice and a bagel spread with strawberry cream cheese.

  “I assumed you would prefer tea but I can make coffee if you’d like.”

  “Tea is perfect. I can come out to the kitchen to eat.” She picked up her clothes and hugged them to her chest, avoiding his eyes.

  “You can come out for lunch. You need more rest.”

  When she was settled back in the bed he set the tray across her lap and poured her tea. “Do you want cream or sugar?”

  Brianna nodded her head, wincing slightly at the movement. He looked at her through narrowed eyes while adding the condiments to her cup.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” He asked as he sat in the small chair.

  “I’m okay.” She stared at the mirror above the dresser. It would be so much easier to eat if he wasn’t watching her.

  “Something is wrong. One of the first things I noticed about you, and admired, by the way, is you always look me in the eye and now you’re not.”

  She took a drink of juice and briefly glanced at him, feeling the flush cover her again.

  “It’s just that– well– it’s kind of embarrassing.” She plucked at the jersey.

  “My old football jersey is embarrassing?” His eyes furrowed.

  “No, but how I came to be wearing it is.” She glowered at him.

  John laughed. “You think I put it on you?”

  “I can’t imagine how else I got it on.”

  “You mean you really don’t remember?”

  His look of concern confused her. She shook her head.

  “I assure you, Miss Ryan, I did not put that jersey on you. You wanted to take a shower when we got here but didn’t have anything clean to put on. I gave you that. When I came back in you were sound asleep. Your dirty clothes were in a pile on the bathroom floor so I washed them.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Eat your breakfast and get some more rest. I’ll be in the living room right outside your door.” He rose and walked to the door.

  “You didn’t have to give me your room. I’d be perfectly happy on the sofa,” she said.

  He turned back and smiled, “This is the guest room, Miss Ryan. Get some rest. I’ll be back for the tray.”

  * * * *

  Brianna sat on the wide seat in the shower and rinsed the shampoo from her hair, hopefully sending the remnants of the smoky residue down the drain. She stepped out of the shower, dried and wrapped a towel around her wet head. A terry bathrobe hung on the back of the door. She hobbled over and shrugged into it.

  “Ahhh,” she exclaimed as she opened the door and hopped on one foot to the bed.

  “Is something wrong?” John called through the partially closed door.

  “I just remembered Carly’s number. Where’s my phone?”

  He opened the door and crossed to the dresser, retrieved the phone and handed it to her. He left her alone to make the call.

  Brianna quickly tapped in the numbers and saved it to her contact list before she forgot it again. She wiggled her toes in the carpet while she waited for Carly to answer.

  “Carly, it’s Bree,” she said when the call connected. She barely gave Carly a chance to respond before launching into the events of the last two days. “Could I stay with you again until I can find another room?” She listened to the response, shoulders as she disconnected and laid the phone on the bed beside her. She braced her hands on either side of her and watched her foot swing lightly across the carpet.

  “Come in,” she responded to the knock on the door.

  “Were you able to reach your friend?” John asked as he crossed to the bedside chair and sat.

  Brianna nodded without looking up.

  “And?” He prompted.

  She took a deep breath and met his gaze.

  “She’s out of town. Rob’s parents invited them up to their lake home in Wisconsin for a week. They won’t be back ‘til Saturday night.” She sighed. “Now what am I going to do? All my clothes are there and I have nowhere to go – again.” Her shoulders drooped and she focused on her feet.

  After a few seconds John spoke. “You can stay here. You are my wife, after all.”

  Brianna jerked her head up, deep red staining her cheeks. “You’re not going to let me live that one down, are you?”

  John shook his head, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “Nope.”

  “Seriously, I can’t impose on you. Besides, can you imagine the gossip at work if it got out? No, I’ll figure something out.” What, she didn’t know.

  “It’s really no imposition, Miss Ryan. We won’t worry about the gossip. You’re not going to work this week anyway.”

  “I can’t afford to take a whole week off. I already owe you one paycheck. If I lose another week’s pay I’ll never be able to afford my own place.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. You have sick leave coming. I have plenty of room and, when you’re well, we’ll look for a place for you. Now, let’s get that foot up and put some ice on it.”

  She swung her legs onto the bed and leaned back on the pillows.

  “Do you need anything else?” John asked before he left to get an ice pack.

  Brianna shook her head and closed her eyes.

  * * * *

  Early Monday morning John knocked on Brianna’s door. She groaned and pulled the covers up around her neck before telling him to come in.

  “I’m leaving for the office now,” he said, setti
ng a small breakfast tray on the nightstand. “My housekeeper, Mrs. Miller, will be here at nine o’clock. She’ll fix your lunch and help you with anything you need. Make an appointment with your doctor and let me know the time. I’ll drive you.”

  “I don’t have a doctor,” Brianna said, attempting to sweep the unruly mass of curls away from her eyes.

  John looked at her for a moment before speaking. “I’ll make one with mine. What’s your cell number?”

  Brianna gave him the number wondering why all men had to be so bossy. She would have argued but instinctively knew it wouldn’t do any good. Besides, she did need to see a doctor and his was likely one of the best.

  After he left, she hobbled to the bathroom and back. Settling into the bedside chair, she added cream and sugar to the tea. She nibbled a piece of dry wheat toast. Who eats dry toast, she thought and dunked it into the tea.

  Mrs. Miller, a slightly plump, older woman with graying hair and a warm smile arrived promptly at nine o’clock. After she introduced herself, she bustled off to the kitchen.

  * * * *

  Brianna’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of her name. Mrs. Miller stood beside her bed with a tray.

  “I’m sorry to wake you, dear but Mr. Sharp called and said he would be here to pick you up at one. It’s nearly noon now. I’ve brought your lunch.”

  Brianna sat up and Mrs. Miller set the tray across her lap.

  “I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep,” she said pushing the hair out of her eyes. “This looks delicious. You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble for me.”

  “No trouble, Miss.”

  “Well, thank you. You’re very kind.” Brianna bit into the chicken salad sandwich.

  CHAPTER Six

  Unable to keep his thoughts from drifting, John turned his chair toward the window. Resting his elbows on his knees, he steepled his fingers under his chin and looked down at the tiny sail boats gliding on the lake across the street. He envisioned Brianna on the deck, the wind teasing her hair, water glistening on her bikini clad... Leaning back in his chair he inhaled deeply. I do not get involved with employees. But… He jumped and turned his chair when someone coughed.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you. I did knock.” Kaitlyn stood by his desk. “How about taking me to lunch?”

  He glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry, Kaitlyn, I can’t. I have an appointment.”

  “Your loss.” Kaitlyn pouted. “I have some shopping to do anyway. I haven’t a thing to wear.”

  John doubted that. He stood nearly knocking over his chair.

  “Thanks, Kaitlyn.” He flashed her a smile.

  “For what?” Kaitlyn looked puzzled as John rushed past her and out the door.

  * * * *

  John let himself into his apartment and greeted Mrs. Miller as she came out of Brianna’s room with a lunch tray.

  “Is she awake?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m awake and ready to go,” Brianna said from her room. When he entered, she raised her feet, one sporting the clunky boot splint and the other a floppy sock tied on with a black shoelace. “Mrs. Miller gave me this sock. I hope you don’t mind.”

  John shook his head with a slight smile.

  “It did occur to me that you may need a few things. Do you feel up to a little shopping after your doctor’s appointment?”

  “Shopping? In case you’ve forgotten, I don’t have any money.” She frowned at him.

  “Don’t worry about it. You need clothes and things, don’t you?” She shrugged. “Where would you like to go? Bloomingdales? Nordstrom’s?”

  Her eyes widened. “Right. How about Goodwill?”

  He put his hands on his hips. “I don’t think so. What about Target?”

  Brianna locked her eyes with his, “Walmart.” She stood as tall as she could on one leg.

  John narrowed his eyes and set his jaw. “Target.”

  Brianna opened her mouth to protest and closed it again. No sense arguing with him. It was, after all, his money. She’d figure out some way to repay him but for now it appeared she didn’t have a choice.

  * * * *

  The car waited by the front door when they exited the building. The doorman reached to open her door and John helped her into the passenger seat.

  “Seat belt?” he asked as he slid behind the wheel.

  “Yes, Dad.”

  A brief smile softened his features. He was an incredibly good-looking man but, when he smiled, even briefly, he was devastating. He has lots of nice features, she thought. She wanted to run her fingers through the thick brown hair and mess it up a little. He had a straight nose and well-shaped lips that made hers itch just looking at them. She wondered what they would feel like against hers. She shook her head and shivered. She must have hit her head harder than she realized. Get a grip on yourself. You are not looking for a new relationship. Besides, he’s out of your league!

  “Are you cold?” John asked, noticing her shiver.

  “No, I’m fine. It’s a beautiful day. I love spring. The leaves are out and everything is green again.”

  “They are, aren’t they? I hadn’t really noticed. Green is nice.” He smiled. She smiled back and suppressed another shiver.

  “Have you always lived in Chicago?” Brianna asked.

  “I grew up in Evanston. My parents were professors at Northwestern.”

  “But you went to Notre Dame?” she asked.

  “I did,” he said.

  “Do they still live here?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. What’d they teach?”

  “Dad taught history and Mother taught Medieval English Literature. You certainly ask a lot of questions.”

  “My dad always said, ‘If you want to know something, ask.’ Since we’re living together, I figured I should know a little more about you.”

  John cast her an amused look.

  Brianna blushed. “Well, not together together. I didn’t… I mean… Oh, never mind.”

  John laughed. “Must have been a Freudian slip.”

  Color flooded her face.

  They pulled into the parking lot of the medical building.

  * * * *

  “You didn’t have to come in with me,” Brianna said, seated on the exam table. “I’m not a child.”

  “I want to know what he says and I’m not sure you would tell me.”

  Brianna opened her mouth but the doctor came in and she swallowed her retort.

  John sat in the corner while the doctor poked and prodded Brianna.

  “Everything looks good under the circumstances,” Dr. Anderson said to John as he strapped on her splint. “She can put some weight on it when she’s wearing the splint. Alternate heat and ice for twenty minutes every three to four hours. Take Tylenol for pain as needed. She’d probably do better with a quad-cane. It’s easier to manage than crutches.”

  John stood up and extended his hand, “Thanks, Dave. I appreciate your seeing her on such short notice.”

  “I’d like to see her again in a week. Let me know if she has any headaches, blurry vision or dizziness during the week,” the doctor said. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

  John turned and helped Brianna off the exam table, handing her the crutches.

  While she adjusted the crutches under her arms, John chatted with the doctor. She ignored their conversation.

  “Thanks.” Swinging through the door John held for her, she smiled at the doctor. She ignored John completely. She stood to the side while he made an appointment for the following week.

  She stared straight ahead on the short drive to Target, giving one word answers to his questions.

  “Is something bothering you?” John asked.

  Brianna gave him a cool glance. “Whatever makes you think that?” She turned her attention back to the road.

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe two ‘fine’s’ and a ‘whatever’ have something to do with it. Didn’t you like Dr. Anderson?”

&nbs
p; One of the few times in her life, Brianna thought before she spoke. How was she going to say what she wanted to without sounding churlish, childish and ungrateful?

  “Dr. Anderson was okay. You, on the other hand–,”

  “Me? What did I do?”

  “I don’t mean to be rude but you’re kind of, umm, bossy. Actually, you’re very bossy. You remind me of my father. Everyone knows what’s best for me but me. I was the patient, the one injured but you two talked like I wasn’t even there or capable of understanding the complexities of my condition. I’m not stupid, you know.”

  John honked the horn, slammed on the brakes and threw his arm in front of Brianna all at the same time.

  “Damn! I wish people would pay attention to their driving instead of talking on cell phones,” he glanced at Brianna. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, struggling to regain her breath.

  * * * *

  “Those crutches will just be in the way. Hop to that bench while I park the car,” John said, stopping in front of the Target entrance.

  “Yes, boss,” she mumbled as she got out of the car, gained her balance and slammed the car door. She chided herself for being ungrateful but, boy, did she hate being told what to do. She passed the bench and limped into the store, decided on an electric scooter and drove off just as John entered the store. He shot her a chastising look. She grinned, did a 360 around him and sped off in the direction of the clothing department.

  Just a few necessities, she thought, pulling a Tweety Bird nightshirt off the rack and tossing it into the basket. A six pack of bright bikini underwear, a bra, two T-shirts and a pair of jeans followed. She zipped off to the toiletries. She tossed in some deodorant, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a hairbrush, a detangling comb, and some elastic ponytail holders. John dropped bottles of strawberry scented shampoo and conditioner into the basket. She looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back. She nearly ran the cart into an elderly woman. She reversed and almost ran over John’s foot. She glared at him when he chuckled.

  Brianna drove down another aisle, picked some strawberry flavored lip balm and announced, “I’m done.”