The other elevator doors open a few seconds later. At first I think it’s empty, then a tiny figure skids out of it. Barefoot, the blue hospital gown far too large for her small body, she’s clutching her storybook against her chest. Six year old Maya, one of the little girls I volunteer for.
“Maya, what are you doing here?” I say and take her in my arms not wanting her to get sick from wandering without shoes on the cold floors. I immediately take her to the chairs and slump in one of them, rubbing my back.
“I heard nurse Mary say that you were here,” she says, putting her tiny arms around my neck. “Why didn’t you come to see me? Are you mad at me because I put cake in your hair at the party?”
I cannot help a smile. “I’m not mad at you at all. I had to take care of other things but I was going to come see you.”
“Are you sick?” she says with a frown.
“A friend of mine is.”
“Don’t be sad. Look, this will make you happy.” She clutches her book around her chest. “Will you read me a story?” she asks, looking at me with wide, hopeful eyes.
“Let’s go upstairs and I’ll read to all of you.”
She doesn’t answer right away, and I understand the conflict that is going on inside her. There are two sides to Maya. One that allows her to share all the candies she receives from her parents with all the other girls in her ward, and the other side that wants things-usually my attention-only for herself.
“Can we stay here?” she asks in a small, small voice. “Just for one story?”
I pretend to be thinking hard. “Does anyone know you are here?”
“No,” she says. “But I don’t think they’ll notice. I left immediately after nurse Mary left and she won’t come for another hour.”
I eye her closely. “Just one story.”
She opens the book to her favorite story: Cinderella. I must have read it to her at least fifteen times. She leans her head against my chest and I start reading in a loud voice, because the waiting room is empty.
I realize Maya has fallen asleep when I finish the story.
“You should be a professional storyteller.”
I raise my head so fast my neck snaps painfully.
“Parker,” I blurt. I haven’t seen him since I first arrived at the hospital, since he’s been busy taking all of James’s meetings. His black eye is almost healed. So is his lip. “How long have you been standing here?”
“Not that long,” he says with a smile. “Shouldn’t we take her to bed?”
“Yeah we should.”
“I’ll do it.”
“There she is,” someone exclaims, walking with heavy steps toward us. Nurse Mary. “I knew she’d come to see you. Give her to me, I’ll take her upstairs.”
Nurse Mary has been working here for as long as I can remember. She changes her haircut at least once a month, and the hair color every six months. The shockingly short, red do, styled in messy spikes with far too much hair gel, is her most endearing experiment yet.
“I’m sorry I didn’t pass by to see the girls,” I whisper, placing Maya in her arms with great care.
“Please, Serena. I know you’re here for your friend. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”
“That’s very kind of you,” I murmur as she takes off with Maya.
I turn to Parker, who sits in the chair next to me. “Did James send you?” It’s so like James not to trust that I’d be all right by myself.
“No, I came by myself,” Parker answers with fake affronting. “I know he’s in a meeting so I figured you might need my company.”
“Why aren’t you in the meeting?”
“It’s just James who went.”
“I thought you’d be in London by now anyway.”
“So did I,” he says with a smile, “but there’s still a lot to do here; I’ll probably stay for another month or so.”
“Excellent,” I say. “Dani needs an ally against James.”
He grins proudly. I like Parker. And for some unfathomable reason, he likes me too.
“I’m glad you and James sorted things out.”
“So am I.”
“You’re good for him,” he says and in the split second our gazes cross, I realize there’s much more to Lara’s story than he told me. I also realize he won’t tell me more.
It’s James’s story to tell.
“I don’t know about that,” I say jokingly, “but he’s good for me.”
Good is an understatement, really. The best, the perfect one. The only one who can catch my nightmares, pull me out of them, and make them vanish forever. Or at least for as long as I am in his arms. Funny how only a few days ago I was trying to convince myself he was the worst person for me. But that was when he was just a dream I was allowed to immerse myself in from time to time. A dream other women shared.
Now that he’s only mine and I am his, now that the dream belongs only to us, there’s no reason not to admit he’s perfect for me.
Except for that one not-so-little bug I can’t get rid of-I’m by far not perfect for him.
“I just don’t get what he sees in me,” I voice my fear aloud for the first time.
Parker looks at me kindly, with blue eyes that resemble James’s too much. “You’re different from the girls he usually dates.”
“I know that I’m not one of you,” I say, remembering Natalie’s comment. “I don’t go on expensive trips in Malaysia or-”
“No,” he interrupts, “you work your ass off-pardon my expression-and in your free time do things like this.” He raises his hand in the direction nurse Mary left with Maya.
“Oh stop acting like you’re impressed or something. You attend charity balls for God’s sake.”
“Yeah,” he says warily, “organized by women who have too much time and money on their hands. Don’t get me wrong, I respect my mother and Aunt Beatrix, but charity is what they do. It’s required of them. It’s what Natalie and Angela and all others will do after they get married.”
“Stuck in the past century much?”
He frowns. “Not really. They all have a choice. They can choose to work, like Christie, and strive on their own. They just don’t want that.”
I stare at him, and have the impression this is the first time I really see him. By the courteous way he always addresses the lark, I would’ve never guessed what he really thinks of her. I wonder if I wasn’t too quick in thinking that he likes me. I don’t think I was.
“I thought Natalie owned part of your and James’s company,” I say.
“She does. A small part. But she’s not really involved in anything. Just passes by the office from time to time. I think she wanted to get involved just for fun, and because she likes to tell people she has something to do. Though investors seem to like her very much,” Parker says with an expression that tells me he questions the sanity of the investors.
I cannot hold back a smile, and then try to turn the conversation away from Natalie. “I’m sure James dated plenty non-blue-blooded girls before me.”
Parker snorts. “Boarding school was full of them. Even at Stanford, he only seemed to stumble on that kind.”
The perks of having a trust fund worth a few millions, I think to myself. Then I realize, how the hell does Parker know?
“How would you know that?” I scoff. “You went to college in England.”
“You’d be surprised how much you find out about James’s life in college if you’re stuck next to Natalie for a few hours in a plane,” he smirks.
Always, always Natalie.
“Do you want to see Jess?” I ask.
“Sure, that’s actually the other reason I’m here. She made me promise in the bar before the whole mayhem started that I’d tell her a few things about London.”
I bite my tongue to stop myself from laughing, pondering whether I should tell him that a few things are synonymous with one hell of an interrogation round. I decide against it. When I offered to give her tips on things to do in London, she blatantly told me she needs another source of information because I left London such a long time ago all my tips would be outdated. She’s probably right.
“Yeah, she had to reschedule that interview because she’s going to have that cast on her leg for quite a while. Her room is that way.” I point with my thumb to my right. “Just don’t tell her you came here by car. She’ll try to make you drive her around.”
I brought her car here yesterday, thinking I might need it in case James eventually had to leave. When she saw the car keys, she begged me for half an hour to take her for a ride, claiming she couldn’t bear lying in bed anymore. I tuck the keys safely away from her in my jeans ever since.
“I thought she seemed a little nuts in the bar,” he winks and I burst out laughing, elbowing him.
“That’s a very rude thing to say.”
“Well, this will sound even more rude,” he puts an arm over my shoulder, and I lean in, curiously. “I think she-”
A low, angered voice makes us both freeze.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
I leap from under Parker’s arm instantly.
“James, you’re back early,” I say, shocked. It’s not his return that shocks me, but his white, livid skin and balled fists.
“You’re in good company,” he says in a slicing voice, staring at Parker.
“Yeah, Parker stopped by to see how Jess was.”
“How considerate of him,” James says in a sneering tone. At least he loosens his fists. His eyes have that strange glint in them they had a few times before. The recognition bewilders me like nothing else.
Jealousy.