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“Make sure that you do,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“Good night, K.”
“Good night.”
Thoughtfully she hung up the phone. She’d known David since she was seventeen years old and he was standing at the finish line when she’d won her race at a high school track meet.
“You’re good, but I can make you better,” he’d said by way of introduction.
She bent in half to catch her breath and looked up at him. “Who are you?”
“Your future coach.” He grinned and her heart did a funny little dance in her chest.
“You seem pretty sure of yourself.”
“I am.”
She stood up and braced her hands on her hips. “How do you know I want a coach?”
“Because you want to be a winner.” He handed her a towel.
She stared at it for a moment before taking it and wiping her face. “Thank you.”
“So what do you say? If you want me to talk to your family, I will.”
“There’s no one to talk to. Thanks for the towel and the offer. But forget it.” She handed him back the towel, turned and jogged away before he could react.
But as Kelly soon discovered, David was as determined as he was handsome and that was saying something. David Livingston was tall and lean, his features angular but with the kind of even brown complexion that women slaved to maintain. His smile was as generous as his eyes and his deep laughter reminded her of winter nights sitting in front of a fireplace.
He showed up for every track meet. He was the loudest in the stands as she jetted to the finish lines. David became a fixture to a point where she looked for him in the stands, listened for his cheers among the crowd.
Finally one day after practice she walked up to him.
“Okay, I give up. What can you do for me?”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.”
They’d been a “team” ever since.
But not even David knew all her secrets.
Slowly she went into the bathroom, pulled up the toilet seat and stuck her finger as far down her throat as she could.
Chapter 7
“This wheelchair is a bit much, David,” Kelly said as he pushed her through the terminal of American Airlines.
“You may be fast as lightning on the track, my dear, but you need a little work with the crutches. I want to get to the hotel sometime today.”
“Very funny.”
They trailed behind a redcap who pushed a metal cart that was loaded with their baggage.
“There’s a car waiting for us out front. We’ll have you settled in no time.” David weaved in and out of the flow of human traffic mindful of his precious cargo.
As always JFK airport was bustling with activity. The press of people in myriad attire, speaking in every imaginable language, was an awesome experience. The airport was a microcosm of humanity. Voices from unseen sources called out a steam of flights to everywhere in the known world, periodically interspersed with warnings about unattended baggage and the consequences of taking packages from persons unknown to you. A montage of aromas stampeded through the food court reminiscent of raucous stadium revelers doing a victory dance. The occasional National Guard patrolled the walkways, a holdover from 9/11.
“At least they cut the cast down,” Kelly said as they made it toward the exit doors. “I never would have made it through this crowd to the flight with my leg sticking out a mile in front of me.”
“It’s progress. I told you that you would be back in no time. It’s only been four weeks and look how far you’ve come.”
“Although this space boot isn’t a fashion statement.”
David chuckled and pushed open the glass doors.
The first blush of New York City welcomed them with a cool breeze and a spring shower.
A middle-aged man decked in a black suit, striped shirt and shiny black tie stood in front of a silver stretch limo holding up a sign with David’s name on it.
“Right here,” David instructed the redcap, pointing to the driver.
“Welcome to New York, Mr. Livingston, Ms. Maxwell. I’m your driver, Bill.” He turned to Kelly. “Let me help you into the car, ma’am.”
“I can—”
But before she’d finished her sentence, he’d lifted her from the wheelchair as if she were no heavier than a bag of rice and gently put her in the backseat.
“There’s juice, soda, snacks and the buttons above you control the music, DVD player and the air,” Bill said before backing out of the car door. He straightened and turned to David who immediately held up his hands.
“I think I can get in by myself.”
“Of course, Mr. Livingston.” He stood aside.
David got in and sat opposite Kelly. “Efficient,” he muttered then shut the door behind him.
Kelly giggled. “I thought for sure he was gonna pick you up, too.”
David reached for a bottle of chilled water from the bucket of ice. “So did I. But we would have had to fight.” He twisted off the top then took a long swallow. “Aaah. You okay?” He took another gulp.
“Fine.” She propped her leg up along the length of the wraparound leather seating.
The motion of the car rocked them gently against the plush interior. Kelly looked out the tinted windows as the landscape of the Big Apple spread out in front of her. Buildings rose toward the cloudy skies, murky silhouettes against the light gray backdrop. She was missing home already.
“How much do you know about this doctor-therapist, whatever he is?” she asked tersely.
“I checked Dr. Hutchinson’s credentials thoroughly. He’s worked with plenty of athletes. He’s one of the best.”
Kelly looked away. “How long do we have to stay here?”
“Until you’re better.” He glanced at her profile. Her mouth was a tight line as it always was when she was upset, worried or concentrating on the track. This was not the track. “You want to tell me what’s really bothering you?”
“Nothing,” she muttered.
“Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”
She folded her arms. “Sure.”
“Hungry?”
“No.”
“You really haven’t been eating lately. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Please stop asking me.”
“All right, all right. Take it easy.”
She pushed out a breath. “I’m sorry. Guess my nerves are getting the best of me.”
David leaned over and took her hand. “Look at me.”
Reluctantly she did.
“Haven’t I always taken care of you?”
“Yes.”
“Have I ever let you down?”
“No.”
“Then that’s all you need to remember.”
“But what if someone finds out?”
“They won’t. They won’t,” he repeated. “All you have to do is follow the instructions of the therapist and the rest will take care of itself.”
The car slowed then came to a stop. Moments later, Bill opened the door. David got out first, went around to the trunk and retrieved Kelly’s crutches. Together he and Bill helped her from the car.
“What…no wheelchair?” Kelly quipped while gaining her balance.
“Time is no longer of the essence.”
Bill signaled the bellhop and they loaded the luggage onto a cart.
The decor of the Marriott was gracefully elegant. A dazzling chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling was the centerpiece of the circular floor. Light touches of gold filigree graced tables, the edges of counters and the reception desks. The hotel was busy. There was a steady movement of guests and uniformed hotel staff, but not one seemed to pay Kelly any undue attention. In a town like New York, celebrities were a dime a dozen.
“Welcome to the Marriott,” the concierge greeted. “I hope you have a lovely stay with us and if there is anything we can do to make you more comfortable, Ms. Maxwell, please let me know.”
“Thank you, I will.”
“If you will follow me, I’ll personally escort you to your room. You’re all checked in.”
“You have her in the presidential suite, correct?” David asked.
“Of course. Only the best. And it has the connecting suite as you requested.”
David nodded. “Excellent.”
“Connecting suite?” Kelly mouthed to David.
“We’ll talk upstairs.”
Once they were settled and the concierge had bowed his way out, Kelly didn’t waste a moment in getting to the connecting suite situation.
“You want to tell me now?”
“Look, I plan to be here for the next two weeks. You’re going to need help. What sense does it make for me to be in a completely different room, possibly on a different floor, in case of an emergency?”
She’d have to be extra careful. David must never know. There were many things she shared with David, but this could not be one of them. No one must find out. She was too ashamed.
“Fine. I suppose you’re right. Just make sure you knock first.”
He chuckled. “The door locks from your side.”
Her lips flickered ever so slightly until they formed the halo of a smile. She half walked, half hopped toward the couch and sat down. She looked up at him then stretched out her hand.
David walked toward her, took her hand then sat down. “What?” His voice was a gentle nudge.
“If I haven’t told you thank you—then thank you—for everything. I don’t know how many strings you had to pull to get me here. I did my research, too. This Dr. Hutchinson is booked through the year.”
He tightened his hold on her hand and looked her deep in the eyes. “I told you, whatever needed to be done to help you I was going to make it happen.”
Kelly lowered her gaze. “I owe you so much.” She looked up and stared into his eyes.
David felt himself being pulled into the midnight pools of her eyes. It would be so easy to kiss her right at that moment. Easy to loosen the barrette that held her hair in place and watch it fall in waves across her shoulders. So easy to lean her back against the pillows of the couch and caress the skin that he knew would feel like satin beneath his fingertips.
David forced a smile. “I’d better unpack.” Quickly he stood before desire outweighed reason. “Why don’t you order room service? Let’s see if the hotel lives up to all its hype.” He started to walk toward the door that separated them. “I’ll be back in a few.”
Kelly didn’t trust herself to speak so she simply nodded her head. Once David closed the door behind him, she finally released the breath she’d held. How was she going to be able to get through the next two weeks with David less than one hundred feet away every night?
Chapter 8
Dr. Alex Hutchinson strolled casually down the corridor of New York University Hospital, while studying the chart he held in his hand.
Kelly Maxwell. 29. Track star… He reviewed the details of her injury and his gut instinct and years of experience told him only a miracle would have her running again, at least competitively.
