Copyright 2003 by Elizabeth Delayne
“Let me understand this. You hit her with your briefcase? Just up and hit her—and you expect me to believe that it was an accident?”
It was dark, and her head hurt. It throbbed and somewhere, somehow, there was someone talking … someone with the nerve to be talking and sounding cynical about the whole thing.
“No—yes, it was an accident. She fell—someone pushed her and when she cried out, I turned—look, I’m not an abusive boyfriend. All of this happened in public in the middle of a crowd of people.”
Neisa frowned, easily knowing the voice that defended himself. It was Luke—tall, slickly handsome negotiator between companies.
“And believe me. I’ve heard this story before.”
“It was an accident,” he repeated and Neisa remembered the first time she’d seen him, standing by the elevators in a hurry, on his way out to his next big meeting. She was arriving for a third interview for the position she’d held until a few months before. She stepped out, he slipped in, his eyes focused, his mind on the task ahead.
It was how Luke worked. She had watched him from across the room at a dozen meetings. He knew how to listen, he knew how to hold back his anger, and he knew when to speak. It took a concentration and focus that carried over into the rest of his life.
No, it wasn’t dark, Neisa realized, opening her eyes. The light was blinding. She closed her eyes, stifling a moan as she reached up and touched the square of gauze now covering the painful mass. It had been an accident. A horrifying, humiliating accident.
“And we’ve had these kind of accidents here before,” the nurse responded. “Funny how the stories are twisted to make it seem possible. Even when they’re not.”
Neisa had gotten out of the taxi just as a swarm of people rushed by, news media, people shouting, calling out questions, trying to reach the person in the middle of it all. Someone had pushed her down into the light pole. She’d hit her head and turned just in time to see the briefcase coming right at her. That was all she remembered.
“We’re not even dating,” Luke pointed out and Neisa could only agree. He was handsome and kind and generally good, but in all the time she had worked in his office, he’d barely said more than a handful of words to her. She wondered if he even knew her name.
“All right, Mr. Harper. Could you explain how that happened?”
“I work with Ms. Poite at Branson and Demarcus. We flew in from Atlanta and were getting out of the taxi when things went crazy. That news guy—who was accused of killing his wife? He was heading into the hotel. It was a circus.”
“You have someone that can validate?”
Neisa blinked against the light and looked up to see Luke—Luke, slick and chic—looking haggard and tired even in an Armani suit.
“He’s telling the truth.”
Her voice was raw, like an old woman who’d smoked cigarettes since childhood. The nurse, rimmed glasses perched on her nose, hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, traditional scrubs and ID frowned when she looked at Neisa before moving to lift the bed and helping Neisa into a sitting position. “It’s an ugly site—you don’t want to get yourself another one.”
Neisa accepted the glass of water the nurse handed her and sipped through the straw. “I’m sure it is, but I don’t need to file any reports or press any charges on Mr. Harper.”
The nurse stilled looked doubtful, “If that’s the story you’re sticking to—“
“It’s the truth. I only know Mr. Harper from the office,” she held a hand to her head. “Can I have something for this headache?”
“We’ll see what we can do.”
Luke knelt beside the bed when the nurse walked out and reached to brush a strand of her hair away from her face. He was so good-looking, she thought, and once more wished that he could really see her.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she murmured and forced herself to smile. “You really should stop carrying bricks in your briefcase.”
“Next trip, I promise.”
“Shouldn’t you be at the meeting?”
“Christi and Louis have it. I’m superfluous.”
“Sure you are—with a million dollar paycheck.”
“The big guns won’t come out until the morning. You’ll be out of the hospital by then.”
Neisa glanced down at the paper-thin gown and groaned, “Promise?”
“Christi’s going to bring your bag when she gets through. As soon as that happens, you can go back to the hotel. Get some rest, enjoy a weekend away on the office.”
“I’m sorry, Luke.”
“For what?”
“It’s an important meeting. I messed everything up—“
He shook his head, “My grandmother would have had my head if she knew. In a throng like that, I should have been looking out for you.”
No, she wanted to argue, you’ve never even really seen me. He was well liked, an almost superstar in the middle of his friends. Everyone wanted to talk to him, to know him.
He reached for her hands, running his thumb over her middle finger, “Maybe it’s not the accepted thing to do, but my grandmother would have called it the right thing. It got a little crazy. You’ve got small bones.”
“Just small hands. Don’t let the injury fool you. My mom will tell you I have a hard head—a testament to the bricks you’ve promised never to bring again,” she reached up with her free hand and touched the square bandage again. “What’s the damage?”
“Couple of butterfly bandages, that’s all, plus a concussion. You’ll be fine. Nurse DA promised me.”
Hours later she was back at the hotel, somewhat refreshed after a long nap and settled in her most comfortable pair of jeans and sweatshirt. Her job was to go over the reports and study them for legal tangles that might rise between the companies. They were all lawyers, but she was the one they counted on to have her nose in the book, to look for details and hidden problems.
She slipped on a pair of slim glasses, tucked her feet underneath her, and sat at the small table with the T.V. on some obscure comedy.
She barely even glanced up when the guys knocked on the door. Normally, Christi slipped out with them leaving Neisa to her silence, so she was surprised when Luke broke her concentration.
“You’re supposed to be resting.”
She looked up at him over the rims of her reading glasses. He was dressed formally in a tux, appearing at another social gala thing as was expected of him. Coming out of the bathroom, Christi had on her usual short cocktail dress and stiletto heels.
It was fun, Neisa knew, to dress up, but it was better to have a night of quiet after a long day.
“I have rested—I did, and now I’ve got to get this done.”
“I faxed in a copy to Tracy. She said she would have someone look over it.”
“And Tracy called me and asked if I was sure I couldn’t do it. It’s no big deal, Luke.”
“Then come with us. Have a relaxing evening out. You deserve it.”
Neisa laughed, “Yes I do—and not because you socked me in the head. Because I’m good at my job and I love it—and nothing would be more relaxing for me tonight then to do what is easiest.”
She glanced at Christi, seeking help. He wanted to argue and he hesitated long enough that Christi came over to save her and slipped her hand through his arm, “Come on Luke. We don’t want to be late.”
He frowned at Neisa, but finally nodded, “Fine, but Louis and I are coming back early. There’s a karaoke competition in the lounge downstairs and we thought it would be a blast—if you’re not tired, go with us to that.”
Neisa pulled her glasses off when he left and tucked the earpiece in her teeth. It was tempting, so tempting, to take him up on it—and it was getting hard, very hard, to remember that he’d barely spoken to her before this trip.
She sighed. She liked Luke. She always had, but she wasn’t ready to open herself up if the next trip was going to be a repeat of the past.
When she rolled out of bed the next morning, she nearly rolled back in. It was more than weariness she felt—a little nausea, a little disorientation. What she would give for a few hours at a spa … a massage, the whirl pool, a facial, manicure, pedicure … the works.
But as her body ached, it did not match the confusion in her soul, so she pushed herself to her feet and quietly headed into the bathroom. What she needed the most right now was a little time with her Savior.
As she tended to think of church as a date, as Christ was metaphorically her bridegroom, she dressed carefully and tried to push back thoughts of work and of Luke. It was a little hard this morning. He had been so attentive yesterday, so kind, his eyes so gentle. What was a girl to do but moon a little in private?
Dressed in a sleeveless linen rose dress that just skimmed her knees, she slipped out of the hotel room quietly, so not to disturb Christi, and carefully slipped her room key in between the pages of her Bible.
“Hey—morning neighbor.”
Luke’s voice surprised her. She turned quickly and felt her knees weaken.
“Whoa—“ he said and reached out with both hands to steady her, then pressed her back against the wall. “You okay? Do we need to get you to the hospital.”
“No—“ she said quickly. “It was just—the sudden movement. You surprised me.”
“Sorry. I seem to make all the wrong moves around you.”
She smiled, “Just recently.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
He held her up with both hands, but tucked under his harm was a worn leather Bible. Funny—though she’d worked with him a number of times, several of which had included a Sunday stay, she’d never passed him in the hall on the way to a church or known that he would try. He was one for his late night socials.
Or so, she admitted, she assumed. It was Christi and on other trips a number of other female co-workers she knew that came in while she succumbed to sleep. It was also easier to picture him as the partier, the womanizer, the drunk—then she might, maybe, think of him less.
“Going to church?” she asked and tried to keep her voice clear and calm.
“Was just on my way. You mind a little company? I think, maybe, you should have someone to watch over you,” he reached up and traced the scar, neatly hidden under her bangs instead of a bright white patch. She’d replaced the simple butterfly bandages herself. “It looks better.”
“It is—I am, I promise … you don’t have to watch after me.”
“No, but there’s no reason we need to go in different directions now. You know I’m not really all that dangerous,” he asked, and gestured out with his hand.
She smiled and took a step forward, “I don’t know. If I remember right, there was a nurse who thought differently.”
Then, when his gaze looked at her with surprise, she laughed, feeling her heart take flight. There was something in his eyes that was different, something that she could see for the first time.
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