Meet Cute (Love, Camera, Action #5) - Elise Faber Page 0,10

as she explained what happened.

They nodded, glanced from the gun to Tammy to me to the paparazzi, and then one of the officers stepped forward. “Let’s take this into the house.”

Her hands were covered with blood.

I glanced down, saw that my hands were equally coated as well, and felt bile burn the back of my throat.

Tammy was talking to the officer, who had urged us into the house, and he was taking notes on a pad as she stood there in her dress and heels with scraped knees.

And blood-covered hands.

I barely bit back my gag reflex.

Tammy’s head spun, her eyes locking with mine for one brief, intense moment, and then she was saying something to the policeman, before he nodded, and she crossed over to me.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Fine,” she clipped, snagging my arm and bringing me over to the large kitchen sink. The water turned on . . . and then she was scrubbing my hands in the sink, the stream turning pink then red then back to pink, until eventually it ran clear again. Soap into her palms, rubbing over mine, rubbing firmly until both of our hands were clean.

“There,” she whispered, snagging a towel and running it over my fingers and wrists. “Why don’t you sit down?”

My eyes were on my hands, on hers. “I’m okay,” I said.

Fingers on my jaw, drawing my gaze up to hers, those hazel depths searching mine, seeming to scour my very soul. Then she nodded and started to turn away.

And that’s when I saw the blood on her arm.

The gash on her arm.

My heart skipped, thudding in my chest, slamming against my ribs. She’d gotten hurt protecting me.

The bile disappeared. The shock flitted away.

Rage took its place.

“Your arm,” I said, snagging her wrist, drawing her to a stop.

“It’s fine,” she said, glancing back at me over her shoulder. “The medics gave me some gauze earlier to stop the bleeding. I’ll get it looked at when I’m done giving my statement.” A beat. “You’ll need to give yours next. Unless you need to call in a lawyer?”

Gauze? Gauze?

She slipped her wrist free, raised her brows. “Do you need to call someone?”

I shook my head. “I don’t need a lawyer for this.”

At least, I didn’t think so. It wasn’t like either of us had done anything wrong, and certainly the mob of paparazzi could corroborate what had happened. I might need Maggie and her magical PR skills, but I wasn’t going to ruin the night of her engagement party with a scandal.

Although . . . I pulled my cell from my pocket, fired off a text asking her to call me.

Because if I’d learned anything about my friend in the years we’d worked together, it was that she hated to be blindsided—and she would hate even more to wake up tomorrow and be taken by surprise with the events of this evening plastered all over every gossip mag and site, not to mention the main-stream news outlets.

The text would cover my bases.

And hopefully, she would see it after the party but before morning.

Tammy was talking to the officer by the time I finished texting, so I slipped down the hall and into the half-bath I’d stripped of all things towel just a little while before. There was a first aid kit beneath the sink, and I grabbed it, bringing it back into the kitchen and opening it up. More gauze. A wrap.

At least I could get it covered until Tammy had it checked out.

The last of which had me remembering a contact I’d programmed in my cell just the previous week. On Artie and Pierce’s recommendation, I’d signed up for a doctor’s service—it was easier than going into medical offices or the hospital (for non-emergency stuff)—and there was a direct number for urgent visits.

I stepped into the hall and called.

The calm, kind voice on the other end said they would be here in twenty minutes.

Feeling better about having done something, I told them to call my number when they arrived, so I could let them in, then went back into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. By the sound of the conversation Tammy was having with the officer, it seemed like they might be at it for a while, and then there was her arm to consider, how long it would take to treat it. We would probably be up for hours.

Plus, it gave me something to do that wasn’t standing around, staring into space, hating myself for freezing,