Chapter 34

The hotel restaurant's interior is pure elegance. Crystal chandeliers hang from the lofty ceiling, and velvet drapes in a majestic violet adorn the windows. The tables are dressed in crisp white tablecloths, and the plush, high-backed chairs are upholstered in sumptuous crimson fabrics. Some tables are nestled in secluded alcoves, offering a romantic dining experience, while others are positioned to capture the best views.

I've been here once before, when Donny treated us all to dinner while my father was in the hospital. Jesse was scowling the whole time.

Tonight I'm determined to enjoy myself. Have the nice meal that I should be having with Dave. I excuse myself once we're seated to go to the ladies' room.

I touch up my makeup and force a smile on my face. This guy is going to buy me an expensive dinner, so I at least need to be good company.

On a whim, I pull my phone out of my purse and take a look.

Still no response to my many texts and phone calls.

Fine.

I'm still going to have a nice dinner tonight anyway.

I smile at the woman next to me washing her hands and then exit the restroom, walking slowly back to the table, trying to look confident.

"I took the liberty of ordering some champagne," Logan says.

"How nice," I say.

"Only the best for a woman of your stature."

The sommelier comes by with a bottle of Dom Perignon. He shows the bottle to Logan, who nods. Then he expertly uncorks the bottle. I stare at the smoky condensation that drifts up from the bottle opening.

The sommelier pours a small amount into a flute and hands it to Logan. Logan peers at the flute, swirls it a bit, inhales, and then takes a drink.

"Excellent," he says.

"Good, sir." The sommelier fills my flute expertly, not a bit of foam going over the top, and then fills the remainder of Logan's flute. He then bows and leaves us.

Logan picks up his flute and smiles. "To a wonderful evening."

I clink my glass to his but say nothing and then take a sip of the champagne.

It's surprisingly good. I've never had real champagne before. I've had the Steel sparkling wine at their parties, and it's delicious. And then of course I've had cheap California sparkling wine, but I wasn't in France long enough to actually taste real champagne.

And now here I am, in Grand Junction, Colorado, having real champagne with a strange man.

He seems like a kind man, but he's a strange man nonetheless.

And I begin to feel guilty.

He's probably expecting a little slap and tickle tonight after spending all this money on such a beautiful dinner for me.

I should probably tell him I'm not interested in that.

But I don't.

I take another drink of my champagne instead.

Our server comes by, dressed in a white blouse and simple black pants. "Good evening, I'm Charity, and I'll be taking care of you this evening. I see you're already set with your cocktail selection. Would you care for any appetizers?"

I blink. "I'm so sorry. I haven't even looked at the menu."

"Bring us a selection of your best oysters on the half shell," Logan says. He looks at me. "You do like oysters, don't you, Madeline?"

"Of course."

I've only had oysters on the half shell once, and they were kind of slimy, but they tasted good.

"Right away, sir."

He narrows his eyes at me. "You know oysters are an aphrodisiac."

I swirl the champagne in my flute and wink at him. "So I've heard."

Again I'm tempted to tell him this evening will go nowhere, but then I think, why not? Why not have some indiscriminate sex when I got stood up by the man who professed to be in love with me?

"Tell me a little more about yourself," he says. "How long have you been coaching?"

Right. I lied.

But it's not technically a lie, is it? I do plan to become a life coach. I feel very certain in this endeavor. More certain than I felt about any path in my life—other than Dave Simpson.

And obviously that's gone up in flames, so why the hell not?

"Not long," I say.

"I find it very interesting. My sister worked with a life coach and said the results were amazing. It really helped her map out her goals."

"I'm so glad to hear that. What does she do?"

"She's a novelist. But she had trouble setting daily goals that she could make happen. The coach helped her realize what was holding her back and got her on a schedule that works for her."

"That's wonderful. I'm so glad to hear that. What kind of novels does she write?"

"She writes romance novels. If you read romance, you've probably heard of her. Leah Templeton."

"I don't have a lot of time to read for pleasure," I say. "But the name rings a bell."

"She's very good. Several of her books have been bestsellers."

I smile. "I'll definitely look them up. But enough about me. Tell me about the work you do with your firm."

"It's mostly corporate work," he says. "We represent big businesses, keep their contracts in order."

"What businesses?"

"I can't give you the names of our clients. Attorney-client privilege and all. But you would probably recognize them if I did."

I nod. We've effectively run out of things to talk about.

I take another sip of my champagne and then glance down at the menu.

I jerk when my phone buzzes in my purse.

"Excuse me," I say. "I'm actually expecting to hear from someone."

I grab my phone.

But my heart sinks. It's not Dave.

It's Brianna.

I rise. "Would you please excuse me for a moment?"

"Of course."

I walk away from the table as I pick up the call. "Brianna?"

"Oh my God, Maddie. Thank God you picked up."

"What's wrong?"

"It's Dave. He's been in an accident. He collided with a truck on the road to Grand Junction."

My heart drops to my feet. Chills coarse through my entire body. I have to fight to keep from toppling over.

Brianna didn't just say what I think she said.

Dave. My Dave. The man who told me he loved me.

In an accident.

He could be dying.

For all I know, he could be…

And here I am, acting like a child, out on a date with the first man who looked my way. Acting like a complete slut. Not once did it cross my mind that there might be some other explanation. I was so in my head about Dave not wanting me anymore that it never occurred to me that something awful could have happened to the man I?—

"Maddie, are you there?"

I bring the phone back to my ear, my hand shaking. "Y-Yes. I am."

"He was on his way to Grand Junction. Was he going to see you?"

My God, this is all my fault.

A tear runs down my cheek.

"I… I thought he had stood me up. Is he…?"

"He's in rough shape. Thank God someone was coming the other way and called 9-1-1. He's at St. Mary's. Uncle Bryce and Aunt Marj are on their way there, along with Henry and the girls. You should go."

I say nothing, my thoughts tumbling.

"Maddie?"

"Yeah, I'm here. I'm… I'm on my way."

I rush back to the table. "I'm so sorry. There's been an emergency. I have to get to the hospital."

"Which one?"

"St. Mary's."

"I'll come with you."

"Please, don't bother. It's…"

"It's what?"

"It's a man. A man I care about." I bury my face in my hands. The tears are coming. "I shouldn't have led you on like this. I thought he stood me up this evening, so… It was immature of me to allow you to take me to dinner. I'm so sorry, Logan."

He rises. "Don't be sorry. I enjoyed our time together. It would have been nice if it were more, but right now, we need to get you to the hospital." He pulls out his phone. "I'll contact my driver."

"Really, you don't have to."

"Please, let me do this for you. Consider it my good deed for the day."

I fall against him, giving him a quick hug. "It is definitely a good deed. Thank you so much, Logan. And whoever left you? Big loss on her part."

I slam the door to Logan's town car harder than I mean to.

"Sorry!" I yell back at him.

He waves me away amiably.

I run quickly to the ER, stopping at the volunteer at the front desk.

"David Simpson?" I say breathlessly.

He looks up from his computer screen. "You family?"

"Isn't his family here yet?"

He taps on his keyboard. "I'm not showing any visitors so far. But I can only give information out to family."

"I'm his…girlfriend," I say.

He shakes his head. "I'm afraid only legal spouses count as family, ma'am."

"Then fine. I'm his wife."

He mentioned a possible honeymoon, so what the hell?

"Ma'am, do you think this is the first time someone has said they were someone's significant other and then corrected themselves when they found out we can only release information to spouses? Please take a seat. When a family member of the patient arrives, we can give out information."

"Fine." I turn around in a huff, glancing around the room.

No Bryce, no Marjorie, no Henry, no Angie, no Sage…

But a moment later, they all come rushing in.

And they don't look good. Marjorie and Bryce are both wearing combinations of pajamas and jeans. They must have been planning an early night at home. Henry's face is sheet white, and the girls' eyes are streaked with mascara.

Angie runs into my arms and sobs. "Oh, Maddie. I'm so glad you're here. I can't believe this, on top of everything else going on with our family. Is he okay?"

"I don't know what's going on. They won't tell me anything because I'm not family."

"Mom and Dad will get the information." Tears stream down Angie's face. "I can't believe this is happening. How much more can we be expected to go through?"

I feel so bad for her. This is her brother, after all. If something like this happened to Jesse, I would be devastated.

I'm devastated now. This is the man I love.

And I can't lose him.

Why didn't I say it back?

Why didn't I do so many things?

I was so worried about stupid stuff.

Bryce and Marjorie talk to the volunteer and then return to us in the waiting area.

Bryce's face is pale, and Marjorie doesn't look much better.

But it's Marjorie who speaks to us. "All they know is that he's in surgery. He's had some abdominal injuries. They're sending someone out to talk to us."

I gulp and sit down next to Angie. Sage and Henry sit across from us, looking worried. Bryce and Marjorie are still standing, pacing back and forth.

A man in scrubs comes out. "Mr. and Mrs. Simpson?"

"Yes?" Marjorie rushes to him and brings him back. "These are our children and a family friend. Please speak freely."

He nods curtly. "Of course. I'm Dr. Amos, and I was the attending physician when your son was brought in. He suffered soft-tissue injuries, lacerations on his face and neck."

"Did the airbag deploy?"

"It did," he says. "But he was hit head-on by a pickup truck. His Jaguar couldn't compete."

"Where's the asshole who hit him?" Henry asks.

"Henry," Marjorie says.

"That driver didn't make it," Dr. Amos says. "His airbag didn't deploy."

"Good on him," Henry says.

"Henry."His mother again.

But I can't blame him. Someone put Dave in this position. He's a good driver, and he loves that car.

"Our imaging studies show several broken ribs and a hairline fracture in his collarbone. Your son is young and healthy, so these will heal quickly and easily." He flips through some documents on his clipboard. "However, the studies also show blood in the abdomen. That means he probably has internal bleeding, and that's why he's in surgery. We need to find and repair the damage to the organs that are affected."

"I see." Marjorie slides into a chair.

"What can we expect?" Bryce finally asks, his voice low and sad.

The doctor takes a deep breath. "We just don't know yet, sir. He may also have brain trauma. He was in and out of consciousness when he was transported here."

Oh God. Brain trauma? So even if he recovers physically, he could end up a vegetable for the rest of his life.

I would still love him anyway.

I want him back in whatever form, as long as it means he stays on this planet.

"What else do the scans show?" I ask.

"No bleeding in the brain, thank goodness. But he will probably have a concussion. He may have some amnesia. We just don't know."

"I don't understand," Marjorie says. "Why can't you tell us more?"

"I'm not the surgeon," he says. "I'm an ER doctor. But we have the best trauma surgeons taking care of him right now. Drs. Lucas and Montgomery. One of them will be out to speak to you as soon as they can."

"My sister-in-law practiced here for years," Marjorie says. "Dr. Melanie Steel."

He nods. "Yes, I know Dr. Steel."

"Can't you get us any information quicker?"

"We know your family is a huge benefactor to this hospital," he says. "But I can't make the surgeons work faster, ma'am. I'm sorry. They will do their best, and your son is in the best hands he could be in."

"My God…" She rises and falls against Bryce.

"We'll do everything we can, Mr. and Mrs. Simpson." Dr. Amos nods and walks back through the doors.