“Seriously? Are you in a bar? Drunk?” I registered a lot of noise in the background, maybe a casino…or hotel. I leaned my hip into the counter for support—the emotion of the day, the enormity of the call, and the past were getting to me.
With the phone against my ear, I stared at the X-ray, not really seeing it.
“Yes. I’m sorry, I mean, no, I’m not drunk, but I really do need a favor. I tore my ACL, skiing…really tore it, and I need surgery.”
All of a sudden the beeping made sense. Daniel was in a hospital. “And you called me? Why?”
“Because I need surgery—I already said.”
I blew out a long breath; I wasn’t a fan of his playing dumb. “Let’s give up the ghost, Daniel. We’ve googled one another. You knew where to find me—here in Boston. And I happen to know you live happily in California. So forgive me, but what the hell do you want me to do about your ACL on the other coast?”
He cleared his throat again. To be honest, I’d never liked anyone until this man wizarded me into liking him during college. The sexy golfer with an accent, who was headed to the tour, and seemed to be into me—the half Jewish, half Italian, hot mess with a flaring temper and sardonic wit. He’d listened when I spoke and laughed when he saw my day-of-the-week panties. The sheets were still rumpled from us having sex when his demanding father showed up, calling me a distraction and making sure Daniel didn’t lose focus on the tour. I’d decidedon that very day to shelve love and my own distractions for my career, even though it wasn’t the profession I’d dreamed of…
“I’m in New Hampshire.”
His statement jolted me out of my journey down memory lane. And he took my silence as an invitation to go on.
“I was skiing, and this happened…my knee. And well, for a number of reasons, I don’t want to head home to have it fixed…”
Daniel
The line went silent, and honestly I wasn’t sure if she hung up with all the dinging and ringing in the background. My current situation—laid up in a small-town hospital, on only Tylenol for pain medication—was less than desirable.
“New Hampshire?”
“Yes, I was skiing with a few buddies. And well, I’m not as agile as I used to be.”
“Yes, I see. You don’t want to go back to California and admit to the people you see every day that you’re aging. So you want me to fix it on the sly, back east?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. I forgot how smart Wren was, and to be honest, how she didn’t mince words. She was only partly right, but I feared what she would truly say if I told her the whole truth. Also, for some godforsaken reason, I took this injury as a sign to reunite with the woman.
I’d spent years thinking about her, married and divorced someone else, trying to forget her, and it still hadn’t worked.
“I’d rather not travel on a plane like this, and you are also one of the best. You fixed the football player, so why not me?”
It burned me to even mention the quarterback, the one whose meniscus she repaired. I’d seen him touting her up all over social media, and I’d never hated anyone as much. Birdie was mine…for a few weeks…and I couldn’t stand to think of her with anyone else.
“Don’t you have a doctor wherever you are in New Hampshire? I mean, why are you even in the hospital? And are you sure it requires surgery?”
“Yeah, I have a doctor here—full tear, by the way—and I said I was calling in a favor with a friend in Boston. I’m here in the hospital on a separate courtesy. Um, I was skiing with a Hollywood friend. He’s here filming, and in an effort to hold the paparazzi at bay, they’re keeping me here. I don’t need this in the tabloids and neither does he…spending time on the slopes instead of working. His playboy ways have already gotten him in some trouble.”
“Okay, enough. I don’t want to know any more. Thinking of you and your Hollywood bestie acting like bachelor idiots is enough to throw me over the edge. Plus, all this vague name-dropping is giving me a headache. I’m sure you’re friends with the entire A-list. But me? I’m not your friend—”
“Wren, please?”
“Daniel, listen, I have an office full of patients waiting to be seen. We are one week from Christmas. I don’t know what my surgical schedule looks like…and it’s an unofficial rule to never operate on friends or family. Not that you’re either, but I can’t just squeeze you in at the busiest time of the year.”
Of course, she was lying. I didn’t think there was anything this woman didn’t know—especially her schedule—but I wasallowing her to keep up the charade. “I understand. If you could look into it, just for shite’s sake, that would mean the most.”
“Here’s what I’ll do. I’m going to give you back to my PA and she can have your images sent over. And then see about scheduling you with someone on my team or me, whoever is available first.”
“Or you, would be my preference. I don’t have any plans for Christmas,” I volunteered. I wondered if she had someone special in her life. Maybe they were Jewish?
“Daniel, this has been lovely. A real blast from the past, but I have to go. We have protocols here, and calling and demanding to talk with me won’t work next time.”
“Birdie, I need you to fix my knee,” I semi-begged into the phone.
Regina was back before I even knew if Wren heard me, asking me all kinds of questions.
