She did. She’d been injured before. But never when her livelihood was in such jeopardy.
“Tell me everything we need to know about taking care of her,” Dimitri demanded.
Dr. Ross gave him a measured look. “Are you her husband?”
“What? No. We live together.”
Dr. Ross held up his hands. “Ah, my mistake. No judgment implied.”
“It’s temporary,” she mumbled as Dimitri and Dr. Ross stepped out to get materials about treatment and rehab.
Kevin and Lori exchanged a look across the hospital bed. Kevin voiced the question written on both their faces. “Why didn’t you ask to stay with one of us?”
Natasha pushed her glasses up and rubbed her eyes. “I didn’t want to inconvenience you. Dimitri called while I was figuring it out, and he offered his guest room. But now with this new rule from the show . . . it’ll look bad no matter who I’m staying with, so this falls under DTD territory.”
“Don’t tell Donna,” Lori whispered.
“Right. I’ve also got all these side jobs right now, and it was just easiest to pack a few things and stay with Dimitri.”
“Do you need help covering the classes?” Lori asked. “I’m certified for a bunch of stuff.”
“I can cover some, too,” Kevin added.
Natasha opened her mouth to tell them no, it was too generous, then forced herself to shut it. They cared. They wanted to help. She searched their faces, looking for signs of obligation, but their offer seemed in earnest. “Really?”
“Of course.” Kevin’s usual grin was back.
Natasha smiled at him. “The ladies in my Soulsa class will never want me to come back if you teach it.”
He shrugged. “We’ll work it out. Text us your calendar and just tell us when and where we should go.”
The trembling feeling was back. She bit her lip to stop the quiver and nodded. There were still some classes she’d have to find specialized teachers for, but if Kevin and Lori could truly cover the majority of them . . .
She’d still lose out on the money, but at least she wouldn’t have to quit the jobs entirely. Maybe this would be a quick recovery time. She’d stay in bed tomorrow and—
Dimitri returned, clutching a sheaf of printouts on green paper.
“How many days?” she asked.
“At least seventy-two hours. Then we’ll see how you’re doing.”
Natasha gaped at him. “That’s three whole days!”
Lori rubbed her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Tash. Kevin and I don’t have any gigs right now. We’ll cover for you.”
Three days with no pay.At least.“Thanks, guys.” She should sound more grateful, but reality was setting in. The longer she was out of work, the longer she’d have to stay with Dimitri. And the more people who knew she was living there, the higher the chances of Donna finding out. Natasha had been careful not to let anyone photograph her in the hospital, but things got out.
“I got them to prescribe you the strong stuff,” Dimitri said, helping her out of bed and into the wheelchair brought by a nurse.
“Good.” She was going to need it.
17
First stop, pharmacy.
“I switched out the Porsche for the X3 when I stopped to get your glasses,” Dimitri said over his shoulder to Natasha, propped up in the back seat of the SUV with her right leg stretched out on the bench to keep her ankle up.
“Mmm. Thanks for that, by the way.” She’d taken the glasses off and was holding them in her lap, eyes closed.
