“You’re in no shape to drive. Get your purse and let’s go.”
Since he was right, she didn’t argue, though she was surprised he had offered. Reese was her employer, CEO of the company. They didn’t really know each other on a personal level.
Somehow she managed to walk out of his office on legs that felt weak and unsteady. Louise’s desk sat in the open area out front, Kenzie’s desk and credenza in a spacious, more private location closer to Reese’s impressive executive office.
He paused at Louise’s desk. “Kenzie’s son was in an accident. He’s been taken to the emergency room at Baylor. I’m driving her to the hospital. If you need me, call my cell.”
“Yes, sir.” She turned to Kenzie. “Let me know what you find out about Griff, okay? I’ll worry till I know he’s all right.”
Kenzie nodded, her stomach clenched tight with nerves. “I will, Louise, I promise.” Hurrying over to her desk, she grabbed her handbag then continued with Reese to the private wood-paneled elevator that serviced the executive offices on the fourteenth floor of the building in the nineteen-hundred block of North Akard.
The elevator descended, then the doors opened in the underground parking garage behind the valet stand. A shiny black Jaguar idled in front, the air conditioner running, the September temperatures still uncomfortably high.
Reese walked her around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door, waited while she settled herself in the sporty, red-trimmed, black leather seats. Tugging down the navy blue pencil skirt she was wearing with a matching jacket and heels, she pushed her dark hair out of her face.
“Put your belt on,” Reese commanded as he slid behind the wheel and put the car in gear. He was the kind of man who was always in charge, always in control, yet somehow he seemed more efficient than overbearing. Working with him had been exhilarating, challenging, and exhausting. It was a job she truly loved.
Her heart was still racing as he drove the Jag out of the parking garage. The brakes slammed the instant they pulled into the street, and Reese softly cursed.
Dozens of people carrying signs and banners rushed up to surround the car.SOS, Save Our Shores. Stop Deep Sea Oil. No Drill No Spill.
“Son of a bitch.” Reese eased the car out into the street, nudging protesters aside, the vehicle crawling along when it was clear he would rather have hit the gas and charged forward. There weren’t more than a couple of dozen, most of them young, in their twenties or early thirties, wearing everything from purple hair and nose rings to Bozo the Clown masks.
“I’m sorry, Kenzie,” Reese said. “I knew there’d been some trouble at the Houston office, but this is the first time we’ve had protests here.”
She’d known about the recent protests to halt more drilling in the Gulf. She hadn’t realized they had expanded as far as Dallas. The odd thing was, the deal to buy the platform had been in progress for months and the rig had been producing oil for years.
She looked at the jeering crowd blocking their way and fear for her son intensified. Griff needed her. She had to reach him.
“Don’t worry, they aren’t going to stop us from getting there,” Reese said, reading her mind.
He increased his speed, the Jag’s powerful engine purring, the vehicle forcing the crowd to separate and really pissing them off. Though the windows were up and the air conditioner was running, she could hear the foul things they were saying about Garrett Resources, some specifically aimed at Reese as head of the company.
Reese ignored them and increased his speed, breaking free of the unruly mob and leaving them ranting and raving in the middle of the street behind them.
As he continued along North Akard toward Baylor Medical, Kenzie’s mind remained on her son. She checked her phone messages, found call after call from Tammy Stevens, her next door neighbor’s teenage daughter who’d been babysitting Griff. But when she tried to return the call, Tammy’s phone went directly to voice mail. Kenzie’s worry continued to build.Dear God, let him be okay.
As soon as Reese pulled the Jag into a space in the emergency parking lot, Kenzie opened the car door, jumped out, and ran for the entrance, praying all the way that Griff would be all right. He was only nine years old, his life just beginning. The thought that something terrible might have happened to him clogged her chest with fear.
Reese’s long strides caught up with her before she reached the glass doors. He was tall, his expensive suits custom tailored to his broad shoulders and narrow hips. She knew he enjoyed sports, played tennis, and worked out with a martial arts trainer three times week. As his personal assistant, Kenzie knew a lot about Reese Garrett.
He held the door as she hurried into a scene of organized chaos: nurses and doctors in scrubs, carts rattling by pushed by lab technicians, worried family members huddled together. The hospital smells of antiseptic and ammonia made her stomach roll. Vaguely, she wondered if Reese’s recent hospital stay had left him feeling equally unsettled.
He steered her directly to the nurses’ station, identified himself, and introduced Kenzie as Griffin Haines’s mother.
“We’d like to see the boy and speak to the doctor,” Reese said. “As soon as possible.”
Kenzie was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Reese Garrett had driven her to the hospital and instead of leaving was staying to lend his support. Reese had never met her son, yet she could sense his concern. It steadied her, kept her from sliding into total panic.
A petite, redheaded nurse behind the counter took one look at Reese and couldn’t move fast enough to help him. “I’ll find the doctor for you.” She took off at a run, and as they waited, Kenzie’s heart continued to pound.
Where was Griff? How badly was he injured?
“He’s just a boy,” she said, unconsciously speaking her thoughts. “He’s got to be okay.”
Reese caught her shoulders, turning her to face him. It was the first time he had ever touched her, she realized. In today’s business climate, there could be no hint of impropriety. As her boss, Reese had been scrupulous in his treatment of her. Never once had he stepped out of line.
“He’s going to be okay,” he said firmly. “You need to believe that unless you learn something different. If that happens, you can deal with it then. I learned that lesson a long time ago.”
