Life Of Lies. Sharon Sala
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isn’t helping,” Sahara said. “I don’t suppose you know how to treat a burn?”
“No, but Adam said to tell you the doctor was on his way over. He should be here soon.”
“Thank God. I’m going to lie down. Will you listen for the doorbell and let him in?”
“Of course,” Lucy said, following Sahara into the kitchen as she got another handful of ice cubes, wrapped them in a dishcloth and left.
Lucy began putting groceries away, wondering what else this day would bring.
As she washed her hands a few minutes later, she heard the doorbell, so she dried them quickly before she hurried to answer.
The man at the door was not exactly what she was expecting, but he was carrying a black bag and properly identified himself with photo ID.
“Dr. Barrett to see Miss Travis?”
Lucy frowned at the jeans, sandals and casual cotton shirt hanging loose over his pants, and then eyed the three-day beard and sunglasses pushed up on the top of his head.
“You don’t dress like any doctor I ever saw.”
“Well, this is my day to spend at the free clinic, and I try not to outdress my patients. They seem to trust me more this way,” he said.
She smiled at him. “Sorry for jumping to judgment, but we can’t be too careful right now. I’m Lucy, by the way.”
“No problem, Lucy. I heard about what happened on the news this morning,” Barrett said.
“Sahara went back to her room to lie down. Follow me.”
Chris Barrett had been to this complex before and was used to treating the wealthy, but he had to admit the idea of seeing Sahara Travis in person was exciting. She was one of the most beautiful women in Hollywood, and also one of the most secretive. She didn’t follow the party circuit and was rarely seen other than at red-carpet events.
He followed Lucy through the elegant living area to the door ajar at the end of the hall.
Lucy knocked twice and pushed it inward.
“Dr. Barrett is here,” Lucy said.
Chris walked into the suite, expecting to see a diva in silk and satin. Instead, he was met with bare feet, old shorts, a ragged UCLA T-shirt and a face of exquisite beauty completely devoid of makeup.
“Miss Travis, I’m Chris Barrett,” he said, and fell head over heels in love.
“He’s dressed like this because it’s his day to work at a free clinic,” Lucy offered.
Sahara rolled her eyes. “And I’m dressed like this because it’s comfortable. Hello, Dr. Barrett, I’m Sahara,” she said.
Chris grimaced when he saw her foot.
“What happened here?” he asked, as he lifted her foot onto an ottoman.
“I spilled hot coffee on it. It was a fresh pot, so it was scalding. Do you have something to make it quit hurting...like a pill, or a shot, or a magic wand? I’m not picky.”
Now he was entranced by her deprecating humor.
“I left the wand at home, but I’m pretty sure I have stuff that will ease your pain.”
He took a bottle of disinfectant out of his bag and stood up. “May I use your bathroom?”
Sahara waved a hand toward the door behind her and then leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes.
Lucy caught the glimmer of tears on her lashes and was impressed by Sahara’s stoic manner. Somehow she’d always thought Sahara Travis was a pampered woman, but there was obviously a backbone to go with all that beauty. She knelt beside Sahara’s chair and laid a hand on her arm.
“I’m so sorry you’re hurting. This is the last thing you need right now. Can I get you anything? Something to drink maybe?”
Sahara grasped Lucy’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze.
“No, I’m fine, but thank you for asking.”
The doctor returned, properly disinfected, and was all business as he gloved up and began working on her foot.
When the house phone began to ring, Lucy got up to answer, leaving Sahara alone with the doctor.
Chris wanted to talk to her, to get to know her, but this felt like the wrong time. He might never get a chance like this again, but he was a doctor first, and she was obviously in too much pain to chitchat.
Sahara leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, letting her mind drift as the doctor worked so that pain was not at the forefront of her consciousness.
Finally, Chris taped the last piece of gauze around her foot and then gave her leg a quick pat.
“There you go, Miss Travis. This should keep you comfortable for a while.”
Sahara opened her eyes to see Lucy sitting nearby watching the process and then saw the white gauze wrapped around her foot.
“Thank you for coming here. I didn’t know how I was going to get out of the building without drawing attention to myself.”
“I can only imagine,” Chris said. “Now, don’t get it wet. Change the bandage once a day, and when you take this one off, make sure nothing looks infected, then apply some more of this salve and wrap it back up with more gauze.” He motioned to the assortment of supplies he was leaving behind. “I’ll stop by and check on you in a couple of days, if you’d like.”
She nodded.
“How long does the stuff last that you applied to the burn? Can she apply more or will over-the-counter pain meds help?” Lucy asked.
He handed her a prescription.
“If you’ll get this filled, she can take as needed. The main thing is to take it easy. Don’t be up on it too much right now and take the chance of reinjuring it.”
“Okay,” Sahara said.
“Well, I’d better be going. I’m sure there are patients waiting at the clinic,” he said. “I’ll see you in a couple of days unless you need me sooner.”
“I’ll see you to the door,” Lucy said, thus ending whatever else Chris Barrett wanted to say.
He looked back just as he was walking out the door, but Sahara was already out of the chair. So much for following doctor’s orders.
* * *
Sahara made it back to her bedroom before she burst into tears. Between the pain of the burn and Moira’s death, life had finally overwhelmed her. She hadn’t felt this lost since she was a child.
She eased down onto her bed and then turned onto her side away from the window and closed her eyes, trying to focus on anything but the pain.
Think, Sahara, think. Best day of your life?
That’s easy. The day I left New Orleans. It was a freedom I’d never known.
Best friend growing up? Susan, no, Emily, yes, Emily.
First time you had sex? The night of my sixteenth birthday with the boy across the street. What was his name? Larry? Harry? Well, shit. How did I forget the name of the first guy I had sex with? Bad me. Bad, bad me. It’s not like there were dozens afterward. Three, maybe four semiregular guys in my lifetime, but no one in over a year. I need to get laid.
Sahara groaned. The fact that she looked at life in this way made her sad. She’d always dreamed of sex meaning something between two people who loved each other, but she didn’t believe in Santa Claus anymore. Maybe there was no forever love, either.
Nix the pity party, Miss Travis. Some people pay good money for this kind of PR.
Lucy knocked on