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Emma ended the call and sat there for a few minutes taking it all in again. She had to stop dwelling on Dylan McKay. Food usually kept her mind occupied. But oddly, she wasnât hungry. In fact, the thought of eating right now turned her stomach, so she nixed that plan and picked up the TV remote. She hit the on button and her small flat-screen lit up the dark room. The channel, tuned to the local network, was airing a movie. She settled back, propping up her feet, and stared ahead.
Dylan McKayâs handsome face popped up, filling most of the screen, his bone-melting blue eyes gazing into the pretty face of Hollywoodâs latest darling, Sophie Adams. The cowboy and his girl were about to ride into the sunset. The camera zoomed in for the movie-ending kiss, and just like that, something cold and painful snared Emmaâs heart as Dylanâs mouth locked onto Sophieâs.
Hitting the off button did little to calm her. Why couldnât she get away from Dylan?
Falling for the unattainable was romantic suicide. She wasnât that stupid.
Sheâd just have to get over her secret dibs.
End of story.
* * *
She was ready at precisely nine oâclock. When the doorbell rang, she took a quick glance in the mirror, checking her upswept hairstyle, snowy-white pants and the sherbet-pink blazer she wore over a dotted swiss top. A tiny locket nestled at the base of her throat; that, silver stud earrings and a fashionable chunky watch were all the jewelry sheâd opted for. She was going for a professional look without appearing unapproachable to the children. A little thrill ran through her body. Seeing Dylan aside, she was looking forward to meeting the kids, knowing firsthand how hard it was for a youngster to be outside the mainstream. Sheâd been one of those kids. Lucky for her, she had been healthy, but sheâd been different, unloved and unwanted, and sheâd never really felt as if she belonged.
Today was all about the kids.
She opened the door and was immediately yanked out of her noble thoughts as she took one look at Dylan standing on her doorstep. Sheâd expected his driver. But there Dylan was, in the flesh, his bandage gone now, the scar on the side of his head that would eventually heal only making him appear more manly, more dangerous, more gorgeous. Dressed in new jeans and a tan jacket over a white shirt, he smiled at her. âMorning. You look great.â
She didnât feel great. She had woken up pale as a ghost and feeling boneless from tossing and turning all night. But his compliments could get to her, if she put stock in them. He was smooth. He was the consummate lady-killer. He knew which buttons to push to make females fall at his feet. And with her, she was sure, he wasnât even trying.
âThank you. Is Brooke with you?â
He shook his head. âBrooke cracked a tooth this morning. She called me in a panic and said she had to get it fixed right away. I guess itâs because of your event tomorrow, but she bailed. Sheâs got a hot date with the dentist in twenty minutes.â
Or rather a hot date with Royce next week and she couldnât go toothless. âOh. Poor Brooke.â
âShe didnât call you?â
Emma lifted her phone out of her purse and glanced at the screen. âOh, yeah, she did,â she said. âLooks like a voice mail this morning. I was probably in the shower.â
Dylanâs eyes flickered and roamed over her body. Gosh, he was Flirt Central without even knowing it.
âIâm ready. Or would you like to come in?â Oh, boy, had she really invited him in? The last time heâd been here, theyâd...
He glanced behind her and scanned her apartment as if seeing it for the first time. It was clear he didnât remember coming here.
She put those thoughts out of her mind and wondered what he would think of her two-bedroom apartment tucked into an older residential area of Santa Monica. There were no views of the ocean, no trendy, glamorous furnishings or updated kitchen. But it was all hers. And she loved having...stuff of her own.
âMaybe some other time,â he said politely. âWe should probably hit the road.â
After she locked up her apartment, Dylan took her arm and guided her through the courtyard to the limousine parked by the sidewalk. âHere you go,â he said as the driver opened the door. She slid in and Dylan followed. âI havenât gotten clearance to drive yet,â he explained as he settled into the seat across from her by the window.
But it wasnât as if being carted around in a limo was foreign to him.
âThanks again for coming with me today.â
Again, she was struck by his sincerity. âYouâre welcome. Actually, Iâm looking forward to it.â
He stared at her, waiting for more.
She shrugged. âItâs just that my own childhood wasnât ideal. If I can do something for these kids, even just as a bystander, Iâm all for it. But how are you doing? This is your first venture out in public since the...â
âAccident?â His lips tightened and he sighed. âLetâs just say, Iâm glad youâre here.â
âEven though youâll have your team waiting for you there?â
âMy agent and PA are great, donât get me wrong. But they see me one way. I donât think they get how hard this has been for me. Losing those days of my life, and losing Roy, has put me at a disadvantage Iâm not used to. There are missing pages in my life.â
And she could fill in some of those blanks if she had the courage.
He reached for her hand and laid their entwined fingers on the middle seat between them. âBrooke had good reason to jump ship today. Iâm just glad you didnât bail.â
âI wouldnât.â
âI know. Thatâs why I asked you to join me. I can count on you.â
They reached Childrenâs West Hospital, a beautiful building with white marble walls and modern lines. The limo slowed to a stop right in the circular drive that led to the entrance.
âReady for the show?â
Several news crews were waiting like vultures, snapping pictures even before the driver got out of the limo. Dylan made headlines everywhere he went, and his first time out in public since the accident was big news. She recognized Darren, his agent, and Rochelle, his prim assistant, also waiting along the lineup. âReady.â Emma gave off much more confidence than she was feeling.
Dylan waited two beats, sighed as if grasping for strength and then nodded to his driver, who had one hand on the door handle. The door opened and photos were snapped immediately. Dylan got out, waved to the crowd and then reached inside to take her hand. She exited the limo and was dragged into the fray by Dylan, who seemed to tighten his hold on her. A hospital official came forward to greet them and introductions were made as security guards ensured that none of the news media followed them into the hospital lobby. His agent and PA also followed behind, eyeing everyone. Still, Emma saw cameras pressed up against the windows, the paparazzi snapping photos of Dylan and his entourage as they moved along the corridors with Richard Jacoby, the hospital administrator, and a few other ranking hospital officials.
Mr. Jacoby stopped at a double-wide door and turned to their small group. âThe children are excited to meet you, Dylan. Weâve gathered our recovering patients here, in the doctorâs lounge. And later, weâll go up to see the other children who are still in treatment.â
Emma assumed that he was talking about the kids who couldnât make it out of bed. Her heart lurched and she braced herself for what was to come.
âAfterward, weâll shoot your promo spot with Beth and Pauly.â
âSounds good to me,â Dylan said.
âWe had a little movie premiere of His Rookie Year last night for everyone to get acquainted with who you are. Most of them already knew of you. Eddie Renquist was quite a character.â
The rated-G movie hadnât won Dylan any awards, but heâd garnered a whole new audience of youngsters with that role. It was on Emmaâs Top Ten Favorite list.
âAfter you,â Mr. Jacoby said, and they entered a large room filled with kids of all ages, sitting on grown-up chairs, their eyes as big as the smiles on their faces. They began waving at Dylan. With Emma at his side, he made his way over and spoke to each child. The younger boys called him Eddie and asked him all about baseball, as if he really was a star athlete like his character in the film. Dylan was quite knowledgeable actually and always reminded them he was only acting out a role. Some of them got it, others werenât quite sure. The girls were all over the map, the teens telling him he was hot and they loved him, while the younger ones wanted to shake his hand or give him a hug.
Dylan wasnât stingy with his hugs. He gave them freely and laughed with the kids, shook hands and recited lines from his movies when asked. Some of the kids with shaved heads had peach fuzz growing. They were the lucky ones, the ones who would eventually go home to live normal lives. Some wore back braces or leg casts; others were in wheelchairs. But all in all, every one of them reacted positively to Dylan. He was good with them and managed to bring Emma into the conversation often.
âThis is my friend Emma. She plans parties and knows a lot about everything,â he said.
âHave you ever planned a Cinderella party?â one of the younger girls asked.
âWell, of course. Cinderella and Belle and Ariel are friends of mine,â she said.
A cluster of little girls surrounded her and asked her dozens of questions.
Dylan caught her eye and nodded as he continued to make his way around the room. Once Dylan had greeted every single child, he came to stand at the front of the room and asked if they would like to sing a few songs. âEmma has a great voice and knows lots of songs.â
It wasnât exactly out of her wheelhouse to entertain children, but this had come out of the blue. âOh, of course. We can do that.â She jumped right in.
She led them in Taylor Swift and Katy Perry songs as well as a song from Frozen, for the little ones, and then Mr. Jacoby signaled to her that their time was up. Dylan walked over to his personal assistant and she handed him a packet of cards.
âThanks for giving me a chance to meet you all,â he said to the kids. âIâm going to come around the room again one more time and hand out movie passes for you and your families.â
And afterward, they were whisked away, riding up in the elevator to the third floor where the really ill children lay in beds. What really struck Emma was how happy all the children seemed to be, despite the bald heads, wires and tubes going through them, limbs in casts and machines humming. Experiencing their unqualified acceptance and genuine gladness to see them was as heartwarming as it was heartbreaking. Emma sent up silent prayers for all of them, wishing that affliction wouldnât strike ones so young. But their spirit was amazing and many adults, including her, could learn from their sense of joy and gratefulness.
Dylan treated these kids in the same way he had the others. No pity shone in his eyes; instead, there was a sense of camaraderie and friendship. He was one with them, talking movies and baseball and family with these wonderfully unaffected children.
âItâs a lot to take in,â Dylan said once they were alone in the hallway.
âTheyâre sweet kids.â
âThey shouldnât have to deal with this crap. They should be allowed to be kids.â
This wasnât just a photo op for Dylan. âYouâre a softy. Who knew?â
She knew. Sheâd seen it firsthand and sheâd learned something about Dylan today. His compassion for the less fortunate was astounding.
âShh. You donât want to wreck my image, do you?â He grinned.
âHeavens, not me.â
His agent and PA called him away, and he excused himself. When he returned, he was frowning. âThe little boy Pauly who was to do the shoot with us had a setback. Heâs not healthy enough to do the promo spot right now. Theyâre giving me the option to do it with only Beth or to pick another child, or I can wait for Pauly. The camera crew is all here, everythingâs set up, but hereâs the thing. Pauly was really looking forward to this. They tell me itâs all heâs talked about all week.â Dylan ran a hand down his face. âWhat do you think?â
He was asking her advice? She didnât know about the technical nature of this business or the cost involved, but she had only one answer for Dylan. âIâd wait for Pauly. It might make the difference in his recovery, if he has this to look forward to.â
Dylan smiled wide, his eyes locking to hers in relief. âThatâs what I was thinking, too.â He leaned over and kissed her cheek. âThanks.â
He turned away before he could take in her shocked expression. Heâd kissed her again.
It had to be the surroundings, the children, the good that heâd done today to brighten lives here at Childrenâs West Hospital, and thatâs all Emma would read into it.
When they walked out of the hospital a short time later, the press vultures were waiting, snapping pictures and shooting questions at him from behind a roped-off line. She stood in the background with Darren and Rochelle, noting how perfectly Dylan handled the situation, stopping them with a hand up. âIâll make a brief statement. As you can see, Iâm doing well and recovering. Iâll be back to work very soon, but today is not about me. Itâs about the wonderful work this hospital is doing for the children. The doctors and staff here are dedicated and so willing to give of themselves. Weâre hoping to shine a light on Childrenâs West Hospital today. Visit their website to see how you can help these brave children. Thank you.â
With that, Dylan ushered Emma into the limo and it sped off before she could get her seat belt on.
âWhoa,â he said, and for the first time today, she glimpsed beads of sweat on his brow.
âDylan, are you okay?â
He sank down, shrugged into his seat belt and tossed his head against the headrest. âIâve been better.â
âDizzy spell?â She clamped her own seat belt on.
âNope, itâs just a little bit...crazy, isnât it? Iâm not feeling myself just yet.â
âThatâs understandable, Dylan. Youâve been through a lot. But you handled them like a pro.â
He turned to her, shaking his head. âMaybe I shouldâve kept you out of it. Your picture might just make the front page of some of those rags.â
âI did hear several questions shouted about the redhead.â A giggle sounding more like a hiccup escaped her mouth. Sheâd lived in Los Angeles long enough to know how desperate the paparazzi could be. âI noticed you ignored those.â
âThink theyâd believe me if I said you were a friend of the family? Not on your life. Let âem guess.â
âYeah, let them guess.â Bet theyâd never guess sheâd been the one-night stand Dylan McKay had no memory of. Now, that was a story for the tabloids.
âThank you for coming with me today. It made a difference having you here.â
She was his surrogate sister. She didnât mind. Not today. âYou know, Iâm glad I came, too, and if I helped you in the process, thatâs a bonus.â
âYou did.â Dylan leaned over, gave her a sweet kiss that seemed to linger on her lips, then retreated to his seat and closed his eyes. âThanks.â
She was pretty sure surrogate sisters didnât get kisses like that.
In fact, she didnât remember much about his kisses at all.
And that stumped her. A man like Dylan...well, a girl shouldnât forget something like that, drunk on mojitos and in a blackout or not.
* * *
The Montalvo party went off without a hitch, except for one boisterous guest whoâd gotten smashed on martinis and fallen off the top tier of the multilevel grounds. Luckily for him, it was only a five-foot drop and heâd fallen on a shelf of border boxwoods that pinched like the dickens but broke his fall and prevented major damage. After causing a momentary ruckus, the man sobered up real fast, skulked off like a pup with his tail between his legs, and the party picked up again from there.
Emma was proud of the display theyâd put on for the fifties party and their company was hired on the spot by a theatre producer in attendance to host a similar event. It had been a win-win night.
Sheâd worked her butt off these past few weeks. Brooke had her head in the clouds after her date with Royce and theyâd seen each other three times since. Emma didnât mind picking up the slack, except that sheâd been extremely tired and with her resistance down she managed to catch Brookeâs cold. Now both of them werenât feeling well. But while Brooke had only sniffles and sneezes, Emma had an upset stomach, as well. She couldnât look at food for days and even now the thought of eating anything but a piece of fruit made her tummy grumble. And the big golf tournament event was in just four days.
âEmma, get your ducks in a row,â she muttered. She lay on her bed praying for strength. A commercial for a big sloppy hamburger came on the television screen and she didnât turn her head away in time. âOh, God.â Her stomach soured instantly and her legs tangled in the sheets as she fumbled from bed and raced to the bathroom. She landed on her knees and made it to the toilet just as her stomach contracted.
Wonderful...just wonderful. After she flushed the toilet she sat back on her knees. The little energy sheâd had this morning had seeped out of her. But the flu bug would not get her down. She wouldnât miss their big charity event coming up. She grasped the bathroom counter for support and lifted herself up. Her head spun for a second, until finally her eyes focused and she mustered every ounce of strength to stay upright.
âOkay, Emma,â she whispered. âYou can do this.â
Carefully, she stepped away from the sink. The merry-go-round in her head was gone. Thank you, Flu Gods. But just a second later gripping pain attacked her stomach. âOh.â She held her belly and flew toward the toilet again. Sinking down onto the floor, she emptied everything into the porcelain bowl, until there was nothing left.
An hour later, after managing to climb her way back into bed, her body shaking, her bones weak, she clutched her cell and pushed Brookeâs number. âHi,â she whispered.
âWhatâs wrong?â
Brooke knew her so well.
âIâm down, Brooke. Canât make it out of bed right now. The flu.â
âOh, Em. Iâm so sorry. I got you sick and now youâre getting the brunt of it. You sound terrible.â
âMy stomachâs finally eased off, but it wasnât pretty an hour ago. Iâm so...tired. Iâm gonna try to make it into the office later today.â