hear the hope in my voice.
“Yes.”
“Where do you want to go? It’s your day, Ana.”
“I know just the place.”
She diverts off I-5, back across the river, and into downtown Portland. Eventually she pulls up outside the restaurant where we ate after José Rodriguez’s photography exhibition. The day I won her back.
“For one minute I thought you were going to take me to that dreadful bar you drunk-dialed me from,” I tease her.
“Why would I do that?”
“To check the azaleas are still alive.” I give her a sideways look, and she blushes.
Oh, yes, baby. You vomited at my feet.
“Don’t remind me! Besides, you still took me to your hotel room.” Smirking, she lifts her chin in that stubborn, triumphant way that she has.
“Best decision I ever made.”
“Yes. It was.” She leans over and kisses me.
“Do you think that supercilious fucker is still waiting tables?” I ask.
“Supercilious? I thought he was fine.”
“He was trying to impress you.”
“Well, he succeeded.”
Ana, you’re too easily impressed.
“Shall we go see?” she says, amused.
“Lead on, Mrs. Grey.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. For the last couple of hours I’ve been working in the confines of the ICU waiting room. Ana has been at Ray’s bedside since we returned from lunch; last time I checked, she was reading to him. She’s a kind and considerate daughter—he must have been a wonderful father to inspire such devotion.
I’ve read through the Shipyard Heads of Agreement, and I have a list of questions, which I’ve e-mailed to Ros. I’m not signing anything until we’ve spoken, but all that can wait until Monday at the earliest.
My phone buzzes. It’s Taylor, calling to say he’s delivered Ana’s mother and her husband to The Heathman. I check the time, noting it’s just after 5 p.m. Carla needs to know about Ray—I can’t put that off any longer. Reluctantly, I call the hotel and ask to be put through to the Adamses’ room.
I’m not looking forward to this.
“Hello,” Carla answers.
I take a deep breath. “Carla, it’s Christian.”
“Christian,” she gushes. “We had such a wonderful flight over here. Thank you so much.”
“I’m glad you had a pleasant journey. I have some bad news, though.”
“Oh no! Is Ana okay?”
“Ana’s fine. It’s Ray. He was involved in a car accident and he’s in the ICU here in Portland. That’s why we’re in Portland and not Seattle. His condition is improving. Though he’s in an induced coma at the moment, but he’ll be coming out of it tomorrow.”
“Oh no,” she breathes. “How’s Ana?”
“She’s holding up. And because all the news from the ICU is good, I thought we’d go ahead and celebrate her birthday.”
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
“I thought you should know before this evening. But I’d still like to keep your arrival a surprise.”
“Yes. Yes,” she says. “I’ve deliberately not called or texted Ana to keep the surprise.”
“I appreciate that, and I’m sorry to be the bearer of this news. It must be upsetting.”
“No. Christian. Thank you for telling me. I’m very fond of Ray.”
“I’ll see you later this evening.”
“Yes. You will. Bye for now.” She hangs up.
That was not as bad as I anticipated.
It’s time to go back to the hotel. I pack up my laptop, then stand and stretch. These are not the most comfortable seats.
Ana is still reading off her phone to Ray. I watch from the end of the bed as she caresses his hand and glances at him occasionally, her lovelight burning bright.
She notices me as Nurse Kellie approaches.
“It’s time to go, Ana,” I say gently.
She tightens her hold on Ray’s hand, making it clear she doesn’t want to leave him.
“I want to feed you. Come. It’s late,” I insist.
“I’m about to give Mr. Steele a sponge bath,” Nurse Kellie says.
“Okay,” Ana acquiesces. “We’ll be back tomorrow morning.” Leaning over, she kisses Ray’s cheek.
She’s quiet and thoughtful as we walk across the parking lot.
“Do you want me to drive?” I ask.
Her face whips to mine. “No. I’m good,” she says, and opens the driver’s door.
There’s my girl.
I grin and climb in beside her.
In the elevator she’s quiet again. Her mind is with Ray, I’m sure of it. Wrapping her in my arms, I offer her the only comfort I can.
Me. And the warmth of my body.
I hold her close as we travel up to our floor.
“I thought we’d dine downstairs. In a private room.” I open the door to our suite and usher her in.
“Really? Finish what you started a few months ago?” Ana raises a brow.
“If you’re very lucky, Mrs. Grey.”
She laughs.