The driver finally pauses for breath as we turn onto the main street leading to Harmony Harbor General. “Anyway, you folks in town for the festival?”
“Just passing through,” I say, my first words since we got in the car.
“Shame. The chowder competition alone is worth the trip. My cousin Margie’s been reigning champion three years running. Secret’s in the bacon fat.”
We pull up to the hospital entrance before he can elaborate further on Margie’s culinary secrets. Atticus handles the payment and tip before Mason or I get the chance.
The same receptionist from our previous visit looks up as we approach. Her eyes go wide when they land on Atticus, gleeful recognition flickering across her face before she smooths it into professional composure.
“Mr. Sloan! So nice to see you again.” She’s already typing something into her computer, nails clicking against the keys. “You’re here to see Ms. Gerber?”
“That’s right.” Atticus leans against the counter, deploying that easy charm that makes everyone in his vicinity feel like they’re the only person in the room. “How’s she doing?”
“Much better, actually.” The receptionist’s smile brightens. “She was transferred out of the ICU yesterday. Room 412 now. You’ll find her in much better spirits.”
Relief loosens something tight in my chest. “That’s great news.”
“Oh yes, she’s been giving the nursing staff quite a workout.” There’s a note of fond exasperation in the woman’s voice. “Very…determined, that one.”
That’s one word for Stephanie.
We make our way to the fourth floor—after a quick stop at the hospital gift shop—and follow the numbered plaques down a corridor that smells slightly less like industrial-strength cleanser than the ICU did.
The door of Stephanie’s room is propped open, and I can hear her voice before we even reach the threshold.
“—the European syndication rights need to be locked down before the premiere window closes, I don’t care if legal is dragging their feet, that’s not my problem?—“
We pause in the doorway.
Stephanie is propped up in bed, but she looks nothing like the fragile figure I saw in the ICU. She’s wearing a silk robe over her hospital gown, her laptop balanced on a rolling tray table, a Bluetooth headset hooked over one ear. The bandage on her head has been replaced with a smaller, more discreet patch, and her blonde hair has been somehow styled into presentable waves despite the circumstances.
When she spots us in the doorway, she holds up a single finger without breaking stride in her conversation.
“—and tell Tokyo that the interview window is non-negotiable. If they want exclusive content, they work around our schedule, not the other way around.” A pause. “Yes. Yes. Fine. Send me the revised contracts by end of business. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
She taps her earpiece and finally gives us her full attention.
“Well, well. The wandering party returns.” Her gaze sweeps over us, one eyebrow raised. “You all look like hell.”
That’s pretty rich coming from the woman in a hospital bed, but I keep that thought to myself.
Sliding into a chair at her bedside, I set down the bouquet of flowers just purchased from gift shop on her side table. “Well, you look great.”
“As always.” Her eyes narrow as she surveys me. “I see you’re recovered from that “unexpected”heat.”
Her air quotes are clearly audible even without her fingers moving.
“We’ve had a eventful few days,” Atticus says mildly.
I keep my response pleasant, reminding myself she recently suffered a head injury. “Mostly passed. Thanks for asking.”
“Mm-hmm.” She’s still watching me with that sharp, knowing look. “And Mason’s sympathetic heat? Also resolved?”
Sympathetic heat.Of course Stephanie knows that there is something more going on than what was included in the hasty emails Mason sent to the studio that she was CC’ed on. She’s professional enough not to ask questions, but that doesn’t mean she wants to leave us thinking she’s an idiot with the wool over her eyes.
“We’re all feeling much better,” I say carefully. “How are you? We’ve been worried.”
Stephanie waves a hand dismissively. “I’m fine. I’d already be discharged if the doctor would just get their heads out of their asses.”
