Her Texas Rescue Doctor Page 7

  She knew she was babbling, but the floodgates were open. “It’s also Hollywood to lose your A-list status in the blink of an eye. Right now, Deezee has her dancing to his tune. The best scripts in circulation are sent her to read, but she’s blowing them off in order to party with him. Deezee says he needs her, and she goes running.”

  “It sounds like the D-list guy is hoping her A-list status will elevate him.”

  “Exactly. Yes, exactly.” Grace realized she’d reached out and clutched his forearm for emphasis. Despite the lightly chilly Texas air, she could feel the heat of his skin through the white shirt. His arm was solid in her grip. She meant to let go, but instead she gave his arm a little shake in her frustration. “How can you see it so easily, and she can’t see it at all? I’ve pointed it out to her, but it’s like talking to a child who doesn’t want to believe that eating a bucket of candy is the reason she’s sick to her stomach. I’m the one that’s getting sick of it. We spent ten years building up to where we are now, and she’s managing to destroy it in three months.”

  Grace did let go of his arm then. “Everything is going downhill. She’s starting to act like him, disrespectful in public. Worse, she’s being disrespectful to the public. Invitations have dried up, because no one wants her to bring Deezee to their event. The job offers will dry up next. The money will dry up. He’s hurt her reputation, her finances—heck, he’s even given her pneumonia.”

  Alex raised a brow at that. “He had an upper respiratory tract infection?”

  She shooed away an imaginary bug. “I’m on a roll. I’m blaming him for everything, okay?”

  Alex made a little sound of amusement, and Grace found herself doing something she never thought she’d do: laughing at the situation. Chuckling, at least. For a moment, anyway.

  Her smile faded. “It’s embarrassing, the way she talks to me now. I’m not normally a pushover. You probably find that hard to believe.”

  “Not at all. You didn’t let me push you around when I was being short with you. I’m sorry, again, for shutting you down when you first asked to speak to me alone.”

  “You didn’t know what I wanted to speak to you about.”

  “You’re letting me off the hook pretty easily. That makes you kind as well as brave.” He moved his arm, a simple shifting along the back of the bench, but his fingertips grazed her shoulder as he did. Did he linger? Had he touched her on purpose?

  Please. She wanted to be touched. More.

  She had no one to talk to but Sophia, no one to even hug except Sophia. Alex was too tempting. He was sympathetic and interested and warm, physically warm. And tall. With amazing blue eyes.

  He almost touched her. She saw his gaze drop to her shoulder, but he stopped himself and raised his eyes to hers instead. “You were brave enough to report a crime today. I’m sure you are brave enough to find yourself a new job. You should work for someone who appreciates you.”

  It was either the conviction in his words or the kindness in his eyes that just about undid her. Whichever it was, her throat felt suddenly tight with emotion, making her voice sound husky. “She’s my sister. I have to keep trying. I can’t just let her crash without trying to get her to put on the brakes, you know?”

  He hesitated only a moment. He set his hand on her shoulder, and gave her a firm squeeze, solid and warm, a masculine touch.

  “Family.”

  That was all he said. One word. It was the bottom line, she realized. It was her purpose in life, to take care of her family. Her only family.

  It felt like finding an oasis in a desert. Someone understood.

  But then Alex let go. He looked resigned even as he gave her a small smile. “I hear sirens coming. My break is going to be over whether I want it to be or not.” He stood, so she stood with him. “Are you going to be able to handle Deezee when he arrives?”

  “He won’t arrive. He can’t. Sophia’s contagious. You said so.”

  “Yes, but only for about forty-eight hours. She shouldn’t fly for a week, but she won’t be contagious for long. Antibiotics are effective.”

  Her heart sank. “I thought I had a week, maybe a month. I need to keep her in Texas as long as possible. We’ve only been here a day, and already I’ve caught some glimpses of the real Sophia returning.”

  In silence, he began putting his coat back on.

  “Couldn’t you tell her she’ll be contagious for a month?”

  He pushed his glasses into place with his knuckle. “She’s my patient. I won’t lie to her.”

  Lying to celebrities was a given in Hollywood. You don’t have to wear anything you object to. There will be plenty of time to rehearse. This interview will only take five minutes, then we’ll get you some lunch. Telling Sophia she was contagious for a teensy bit longer than she really was barely counted as a fib in Hollywood. At least Grace’s lie was for Sophia’s own good.

  “Um...could you not tell her how long she’ll be contagious?”

  He looked at her in silence, and she imagined all kinds of disapproval focused on her through those lenses. Clark Kent never told a lie, if Grace remembered her superheroes correctly. Her sister would like dating a man who didn’t lie to her.

  “I’m not asking you to lie, just not to mention it if she doesn’t ask.” The sirens were getting closer by the second, feeding some sense of urgency that Grace hadn’t known was building. “The contagious thing is all I can think of to keep Deezee away from us.”

  Alex put his hands in his pockets. His poker face was back in place, but after a small eternity, he sighed. “I’m sure the nurse has given her the discharge orders by now. Unless she requests to see me specifically, she and I are done talking. Whether or not you choose to lie to your sister is something I can’t control.”

  They were done. Alex was going to leave her. She’d be on her own with Sophia again, with no one else to talk to, no one who shared her concern. “When can we see you again? I mean, when does she follow up with you?”

  “Unless she takes a sudden turn for the worse or spikes a significant fever, she should finish her antibiotics, travel home when she feels well enough and see her regular physician for follow-up.”

  This was goodbye, then.

  No, no, no. She needed to think of something, but with the sirens closing in and the clock running out, she could only fall back on what she knew. Sophia was a powerful draw for most men, and Grace had the valuable commodity of access. “I’m sure Sophia would like to thank you properly when she’s feeling better. If you give me your number, I can call you and we could set up a time for coffee or something.”

  “That isn’t entirely appropriate. I don’t normally visit a patient in their home—or hotel room. It stretches the limits of the doctor-patient relationship.”

  Desperation made her bold. “Let me give you my number, in case you change your mind.”

  She didn’t have her tote bag with her. She found one of Sophia’s gum wrappers in her pocket, but she had nothing to write with. Alex had a couple of pens clipped onto the edge of his pocket. He made no move to hand her one.

  The ambulance pulled under the portico with a deafening noise. Grace winced, but she only had seconds. She grabbed a pen, scribbled her number on the paper side of the foil wrapper, and shoved the pen and the little silver square into his pocket.

  He only raised one brow at her.

  “I’m not your patient,” she shouted over the sirens, “so you can call me.”

  The sirens cut off. Doors started slamming and personnel ran to open the back of the ambulance. Still facing her, Alex took one step backward, then two. “Stay safe. Don’t climb on any rubble like your sister, and don’t take any garbage from Deezee. Goodbye, Grace.”

  Then he turned around and joined the paramedics as they all jogged back into the building, pushing a gurney between them, call
ing out numbers to one another. Alex gave orders in Latin. He was saving someone else.

  Grace stayed, rooted in one spot, stuck in Sophia’s world.

  Come back, Alex. Save me.

  Chapter Seven

  Grace had never been kicked out of a hotel before.

  The South by Southwest festival had the entire city booked, and someone else had already paid for the suite she was trying so desperately to keep.

  The hotel’s general manager had given up any pretense of a friendly Texas drawl about twenty minutes ago. His words were brisk and his manner was as cold as the marble floor of the foyer. “The Presidential Suite was reserved a year in advance. We must honor that reservation. The bellhops will help you with your luggage, and the valets will call you a cab downstairs.”

  “Yes, but to where should we take the cab?”

  He pressed his lips together. Grace knew he wanted to tell her to go to hell.

  “You cannot stick Sophia Jackson in a cab and have her drive in circles around Austin, for goodness’ sake.” She smiled as she said it. Wouldn’t that just be so silly, Mr. Manager?

  “We did our best to find you another hotel room. I regret that South by Southwest has the city completely booked. Otherwise, we would have certainly extended Miss Jackson’s stay.” He raised his voice as he looked past Grace toward the suite’s living room, where Sophia was doing a fine job of following Dr. Gregory’s orders, reclining on the sofa while keeping her sprained ankle propped up on the armrest. “The cab could return you to the airport, perhaps. Your reservation was only for one night. We agreed to a late checkout, but it is nearly seven o’clock in the evening. You must leave.”

  Grace gritted her teeth. “Miss Jackson was in the hospital this afternoon. The doctor said she cannot fly today. I have a letter for the airlines explaining the medical necessity of changing her flight. That means it is a necessity for us to stay here, as well.”

  “Perhaps the hospital would care to provide you with a room, since they provided you with the letter.”

  Two bellhops stood like good soldiers, flanking the door. They had to be the two biggest bellhops on staff, hearty Texas boys who’d probably grown up eating steak on a cattle ranch. Despite their organ-grinder-monkey costumes, they were here to serve as bouncers, not bellhops. Sophia Jackson and her entourage, which consisted of one personal assistant, were being kicked out of this hotel. Deezee and his crew hadn’t even had a chance to show up and trash it first.

  Somehow, Grace kept her spine stiff with a dignity she didn’t feel. “If you’ll just give me a few more minutes, the director of Texas Rescue and Relief is going to call me momentarily. She’s trying to find Sophia another place to stay.”

  “If there were another room available in the city, we would have secured it for you. The Hotel Houston prides itself on the highest level of guest care.”

  Oh, obviously. Grace nearly choked on the sarcastic reply. Antagonizing the general manager of the hotel wouldn’t help her right now.

  Sophia began another coughing fit.

  Grace grasped at her only straw. She raised her voice for the benefit of the bellhop bouncers as she spoke to the manager. “The doctor said she’s highly contagious right now, but since her ankle is also broken,” a slight exaggeration, hardly a fib, “one of your bellhops will need to carry her to the elevator. I hope your staff is up to date on their flu vaccines.”

  The bellhops looked at one another in gratifying concern as Sophia sounded like she was hacking up a lung.

  “We have a wheelchair for emergencies.” The general manager nodded at one of the bellhops, who left the suite immediately, no doubt as eager to get away from Sophia’s germs as he was to locate a wheelchair.

  Grace hoped it would take a long time to find it. She looked at the cell phone in her hand, but the screen was still dark. The director of Texas Rescue had rather coolly informed her that she would ask if any Texas Rescue personnel were willing to put up two adults for a week in their own house. Knowing one of those two adults was sick with pneumonia made it unlikely, as she was sure Grace understood, but if she was successful, she’d call Grace.

  She hadn’t called.

  No one in Texas Rescue seemed very enchanted with Sophia Jackson after her grudging appearance at the ribbon cutting. Grace had seen the videos on social media during the cab ride back to the hotel. Her sister had clearly caused her own injury, stomping into an area marked with bright orange off-limits signs. Six-second Vines and little gifs with grammatically incorrect captions were now posted all over social media. Bloggers and meme makers had helpfully circled all the warning signs in bright colors. When Princessezz No Read.

  Sophia Jackson, who three months ago was a smart actress who made smart movies, had become a joke.

  Threatening to sue Texas Rescue hadn’t been the way to make them open their guest bedrooms, either. Grace didn’t know what to try next if no one in the organization took pity on them. She looked over her shoulder at Sophia. Yesterday’s complimentary fruit platter, a gift from the hotel before the Jacksons had refused to leave on time, adorned the coffee table like a work of art. It was an easy reach from the couch. Sophia ate a strawberry.

  Grace’s stomach rumbled. Her phone stayed dark. The manager stared her down.

  A knock at the door made everyone jump. The bellhop practically ran to the door, as if Grace might try to beat him to it. A police officer in a blue uniform, badge and gun on display, strode into the hotel room. His radio loudly sounded off with some official dispatcher talk.

  “Seriously?” Sophia said, lifting her head and pitching her half-eaten strawberry onto the coffee table. “You called the goddamned cops on us?”

  The manager was looking smug, but the cop was looking from the bellhop to the manager to Sophia, and the look on his face was definitely confused. Grace had barely had a second to wonder what the policeman had expected to see when Dr. Gregory walked in.

  She would have been as surprised to see the president of the United States walk into the presidential suite. Alex was still wearing his green scrubs, but the stethoscope was missing and he’d pushed up the long sleeves of that white undershirt. His day’s razor stubble was reaching beard status. He looked tired, but he was looking for her, because he stopped and nodded at her once he saw her.

  Sophia commanded center stage from her sofa. “You know what they say about men who have to compensate by calling in cops.” She’d propped herself up on her elbows, taking in the scene. When all the men looked at her, she arched back a little bit and gave her blond hair a shake. The look she leveled on the manager conveyed both confidence in herself and derision toward him. “Were you afraid of me? Thought you needed a bigger man to back you up?”

  The way she pronounced up, popping the p sound through her strawberry-stained lips, made Grace want to blush. She didn’t dare make eye contact with Alex.

  The manager snapped his fingers at the bellhop. “Charles, please go into the bedroom and get Miss Jackson’s luggage for her.”

  “Don’t you dare touch my stuff,” Sophia said.

  The bellhop froze in place, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

  Grace smiled in vain. “You can’t get our luggage, you see, because it isn’t packed yet. It’s just a big empty suitcase.”

  “I suggest you pack quickly,” the manager said. “The police don’t have all day. You can wait for your phone call in the lobby.”

  “We cannot wait in the lobby.” Grace spoke through a clenched jaw, but she couldn’t keep smiling and being deferential forever. “She’s Sophia Jackson.”

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  “She was in Space Maze. That’s a huge sci-fi hit, and the reason you’re out of rooms is because South by Southwest is in full swing. Your hotel is full of Space Maze fans.” It was another small lie. The indie
music and film festival wasn’t the same thing as a sci-fi movie convention, but accuracy didn’t matter right now. “They’ll mob her. Then you really will need the police, because she’ll be in danger on your property.” And that much was too true.

  Alex stepped into the center of the room. The manager, bellhops, cop and movie star were arrayed all around him. He rested his hands on his hips and looked right at Grace. “I seem to have walked into the middle of something here.”

  She took a breath to explain, ready to plead her case one more time, but Alex slowly winked at her.

  He didn’t break his poker face, but that wink...

  He’d walked into the middle...

  Was he—was he making a pun while she was being kicked out into the street?

  “And you are?” the manager intoned in what was now some kind of British butler’s voice.

  “Dr. Alexander Gregory. And you are?”

  Grace bit her lip. Alex did a better man-in-charge voice than the manager, probably because he was used to being in charge in the emergency room, where things were a lot more important than who got two queens and a sleeper sofa.

  The manager was only halfway through giving his official title when the police officer interrupted him. “I need to speak to Miss Jackson. It’s time sensitive.”

  “Indeed. They were supposed to vacate the room by four o’clock—”

  “He means there’s a judge and a possible warrant waiting to be issued. We need to speak to Miss Jackson.” Alex sounded calm, but there was something in his voice, a little impatience, perhaps.

  “Ohmigod. What did I do?” Sophia definitely sounded less than calm. “I didn’t do anything.”

  Alex actually rolled his eyes before turning toward the couch. “Everything’s not always about you, Sophia. We need to talk to Grace.”

  Sophia didn’t have a chance to recover from her momentary shock at being dismissed by Alex, because the bellhop arrived with the wheelchair. Alex and the police officer exchanged a look.

  The officer held out his arms and made a general shooing motion toward the door with the clipboard in his hand. “Everybody out. I’m conducting an interview.”