“Right, don’t forget to assist Gabriel with the clean up at the back. We’ll need more hors d'oeuvres served in about ten minutes. Also, tell Gina that we need her out here to relight the candles that’ve gone out.
“Our guests will be seated in another twenty minutes.”
Alyssia doesn’t verbally respond but gives a slight dip of her head. What pisses me off the most is that she doesn’t even glance my way before rushing off again.
My gaze trails the woman who’s been haunting my dreams for the past few two month.
It takes another forty-five minutes, a ridiculous amount of small talk with people whose names I won’t remember, and a very unsatisfying dinner later, before I conspicuously make my way to the doorway Alyssia passed through earlier.
It leads to a long hallway that ends in two double doors, presumably to the kitchen.
To my surprise, right before I reach the kitchen doors, Alyssia bursts out of a side door I hadn’t even paid attention to.
She’s so frenetic in her movements that she slams directly into me. It’s only my steady balance that keeps us both upright.
With my hands on her shoulders, I look down into her eyes to see unbridled panic.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have to go to the hospital.”
CHAPTER 8
Travis
“What the hell do you mean I can’t go back there?” I demand to know at the patient station of the emergency room.
The moment I saw that frightened look in Alyssia’s eyes and her insistence that she needed to get to the hospital, instinct took over. I wrapped one arm around her waist while dialing my driver with the other.
I directed him to get us to the nearest hospital. We happened to be close to a well-known university medical facility. During the drive, Alyssia wouldn’t open up about what was wrong.
She shut down, in fact, only telling me that she needed to speak with a doctor right now.
I hated to see the way her leg bounced up and down while her hand firmly clutched her other knee.
When we arrived, the emergency department wasn’t busy. After filling out some paperwork, they were able to take Alyssia back after about twenty minutes of waiting. The entire time she went from sitting, to pacing, to absent mindedly massaging her shoulder.
All while silent. To me, anyway. I overheard her tell one of the nurses something about stomach cramping.
But minor stomach cramping wouldn’t put that fear in her eyes like that. Unless it’s something bigger.
She was taken in to see a doctor almost an hour ago and I haven’t been privy to any updates since. One phone call and I could have a hospital administrator here to cut through the red tape.
But I clamp down on the urge to violate Alyssia’s privacy.
The stony expression on her face as she’d turned to me and murmured thanks and that I could leave as she followed the nurse down the hall keeps coming back to mind. She didn’t want me to follow her or be with her.
So I chose to wait.
I refuse to leave without knowing that she’s alright.
Patience is one of my weaker traits. After another ten minutes of scuffing the linoleum floors with my Tom Fords, I can’t take much more of this.
“Hey, you can’t …” The woman behind the desk’s words trail off as I saunter down the hall.
Among the murmured tones and beeping medical machines, I listen for Alyssia’s voice. While I intend to do my best to give her the privacy she wants, I’m not about to let her slip through my fingers again.
At least not until I know she’s okay.
