The Soon-To-Be-Disinherited Wife. Jennifer Greene
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outside 201. He felt as if he’d been running hell-bent for leather for hours, which was fine but not how he wanted his sister to see him. He forced himself to stand still for a few minutes, pull it all together, concentrate on pulling off an image of calm strength.
A nurse buzzed past him. Then two aides. He took a step toward the door, when suddenly a woman walked out of Caroline’s room. She almost ran straight into him—would have if he hadn’t instinctively reached out to steady her.
Her head shot up. A mane of silky dark hair fell to shoulder length, framing a cameo face—elegant bones, huge eyes bluer than violet, a pale mouth with the lipstick worn off.
Her striking looks would have ransomed his attention even if he didn’t know her…but he did.
Her name didn’t pop into his head in that second, probably because, hell, his mind was gone after these past stress-packed hours. Yet stress or no stress, he immediately remembered her eyes. He remembered kissing her. He remembered dancing in the grass at midnight, remembered laughing…the way he never seemed to laugh with other people, not then or now. But she was different. She’d made him laugh. Made him fall harder in love than a crash.
Of course, that was aeons ago.
A lifetime and more.
“Garrett,” she said gently. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Emma.” He’d known her name all along. It was just that the memories had rushed into his head faster than the prosaic facts. “You’ve been with my sister?”
“Yes. It’s past visiting hours, but…” She hesitated. “I think no one wants to leave her alone. Your parents were here until about a half hour ago. In fact, I just stayed in the hall—but I heard her talking, realized she was upset. So when I saw them leave, I went in. I didn’t know what else to do. Except try to be there for her. She’s fallen asleep now.” Again she hesitated. A wisp of a smile softened her face. “It’s good to see you.”
“Not under these circumstances.”
“No. In fact, I remember your saying you’d never come back to Eastwick if you could help it.”
He remembered that suddenly, all too well. It was why he’d broken it off with her all those years ago—because he’d rather give up anything, everything, than live in this damn town. But that was how he’d felt at twenty-one, an age when everything was an ultimatum. An age when you assumed you didn’t need anyone ever. An age when it was so amazingly easy to be self-righteous.
Now he looked at Emma and thought she’d grown into her looks. She used to be lovely, but she’d gone far beyond lovely now. She was wearing blue pants, a dark cotton sweater. Dressed comfortably for a hospital visit, nothing fancy, but her choice of clothes showed off her long, lean body. There was pride in her posture, in her eyes. A poise she’d never had as a girl.
A loneliness.
She looked as if she wanted to say something else, but then shook her head. “You’ll want to go in to see her. And I’m just leaving—”
“Emma, if you wouldn’t mind…”
She cocked her head.
“I do want to see her. Right now. But if she’s fallen asleep, could you wait just a couple minutes? I’d appreciate hearing your impression of what the situation is—”
“Her doctor can tell you the facts. I really don’t know—”
“I’ll get all that. But I’d like the opinion of a friend. That is, if you can spare the time? I realize it’s already late.”
“Of course I can spare the time,” she said.
Again she offered him a smile. A smile like a gift—that’s how he used to think of smiles and laughter from her. She’d given him so much, so freely from the heart. Every moment with her had been like discovering something he’d never known he’d missed.
Just seeing her face brought that feeling back.
But then, of course, he strode in to see his sister.
Two
Emma paced the hallway outside Room 201, glancing at her watch every few minutes, thinking that she shouldn’t stay. It wasn’t as if she were direct family, not to Garrett or Caroline. She had no real business being here. She was just a friend. And she couldn’t help feeling awkward because of her history with Garrett.
But then he stumbled out of Caroline’s room, and her breath caught just looking at him.
He wasn’t that brash, sexy boy she remembered, the one whose kisses made her knees knock, made her pulse zoom, made her feel like a woman for the first time. But damned if the look of him didn’t send a crazy rush straight to her hormones.
He’d looked like Keanu Reeves as a boy. He was still tall and lean, still had the dark hair and magnetic eyes. Wearing an Italian suit and linen shirt, he radiated sophistication—even as rumpled and exhausted as he obviously was. Even whipped, though, she saw the power in his face, in his eyes.
Their history suddenly pinched her heart. He’d fiercely wanted to get out of Eastwick back then—primarily to escape his overbearing, controlling parents, a problem she could positively relate to.
She’d wanted to matter more to him, to factor more in his decisions. And hadn’t. It wasn’t as simple as escaping problems for Garrett. He used to wear a T-shirt that said It’s More Fun To Play In The Deep End. And that was him. He’d never wanted an easy life, didn’t expect one. He wanted to carve his own niche, to take all the risks, to make a mark with his own name on it.
Emma knew from gossip that he’d gone after his goals with both resolve and ambition—and never looked back. Even so, he didn’t look so much like a high roller in the investment world now. Closer up, she could see the pinched lines around his mouth, the anxiety and worry in his expression.
“Thanks for waiting,” he said.
She matched his subdued tone. “I’m guessing Caroline’s still asleep?”
“She’s out for the count. I didn’t want to leave her…but there doesn’t seem any point in sitting there when she’s so deeply under. And I have to believe she needs the rest.”
Emma nodded in agreement. “I’m guessing you rushed out of New York this afternoon? Have you had a chance to get any dinner?”
He shook his head. “But I don’t want to go far. If you don’t mind, I just want to talk to you for a couple minutes.”
“Sure. The hospital cafeteria is pitiful, but we should be able to scare up a sandwich or something reasonably edible.” She realized he didn’t want to be farther than running distance from his sister, but it wasn’t that hard to persuade him into a quick snack.
The food choices in the cafeteria were as ghastly as she’d promised. The best he could choose was a dry turkey sandwich on dry whole wheat, stale chips, a cup of pitch-black coffee. But Emma coaxed him to carry it outside, away from the sterile hospital smells and sights. Just beyond the side doors was a mini landscaped garden with cement benches in the moonlight.
“Feels good,” he admitted, taking one of the benches. Both of them inhaled the fresh air. A security light beamed enough reflection so they weren’t sitting in darkness yet felt the freedom of the shadows. Emma could almost see him relax—or try to.
“I keep thinking this is my fault,” he confessed. “Caroline called me twice this week. I was busier than hell, got the messages, just planned to call her back when I had time. She never said it was important or critical, but when the hospital called, my heart just seemed to leap in my throat.” He sucked in a breath, turned to look at her. “Would you tell me what you know?”
Emma only wished it were more. “I see her quite often—in town or at different functions. We’re not as close as sisters, but I’ve thought of her as a friend