Her Texas Rescue Doctor (7 page)

He only raised one brow at her.

“I'm not your patient,” she shouted over the sirens, “so you can call me.”

The sirens cut off. Doors started slamming and personnel ran to open the back of the ambulance. Still facing her, Alex took one step backward, then two. “Stay safe. Don't climb on any rubble like your sister, and don't take any garbage from Deezee. Goodbye, Grace.”

Then he turned around and joined the paramedics as they all jogged back into the building, pushing a gurney between them, calling out numbers to one another. Alex gave orders in Latin. He was saving someone else.

Grace stayed, rooted in one spot, stuck in Sophia's world.

Come back, Alex. Save me.

Chapter Seven

G
race had never been kicked out of a hotel before.

The South by Southwest festival had the entire city booked, and someone else had already paid for the suite she was trying so desperately to keep.

The hotel's general manager had given up any pretense of a friendly Texas drawl about twenty minutes ago. His words were brisk and his manner was as cold as the marble floor of the foyer. “The Presidential Suite was reserved a year in advance. We must honor that reservation. The bellhops will help you with your luggage, and the valets will call you a cab downstairs.”

“Yes, but to where should we take the cab?”

He pressed his lips together. Grace knew he wanted to tell her to go to hell.

“You cannot stick Sophia Jackson in a cab and have her drive in circles around Austin, for goodness' sake.” She smiled as she said it.
Wouldn't that just be so silly, Mr. Manager?

“We did our best to find you another hotel room. I regret that South by Southwest has the city completely booked. Otherwise, we would have certainly extended Miss Jackson's stay.” He raised his voice as he looked past Grace toward the suite's living room, where Sophia was doing a fine job of following Dr. Gregory's orders, reclining on the sofa while keeping her sprained ankle propped up on the armrest. “The cab could return you to the airport, perhaps. Your reservation was only for one night. We agreed to a late checkout, but it is nearly seven o'clock in the evening. You must leave.”

Grace gritted her teeth. “Miss Jackson was in the hospital this afternoon. The doctor said she cannot fly today. I have a letter for the airlines explaining the medical necessity of changing her flight. That means it is a necessity for us to stay here, as well.”

“Perhaps the hospital would care to provide you with a room, since they provided you with the letter.”

Two bellhops stood like good soldiers, flanking the door. They had to be the two biggest bellhops on staff, hearty Texas boys who'd probably grown up eating steak on a cattle ranch. Despite their organ-grinder-monkey costumes, they were here to serve as bouncers, not bellhops. Sophia Jackson and her entourage, which consisted of one personal assistant, were being kicked out of this hotel. Deezee and his crew hadn't even had a chance to show up and trash it first.

Somehow, Grace kept her spine stiff with a dignity she didn't feel. “If you'll just give me a few more minutes, the director of Texas Rescue and Relief is going to call me momentarily. She's trying to find Sophia another place to stay.”

“If there were another room available in the city, we would have secured it for you. The Hotel Houston prides itself on the highest level of guest care.”

Oh, obviously.
Grace nearly choked on the sarcastic reply. Antagonizing the general manager of the hotel wouldn't help her right now.

Sophia began another coughing fit.

Grace grasped at her only straw. She raised her voice for the benefit of the bellhop bouncers as she spoke to the manager. “The doctor said she's highly contagious right now, but since her ankle is also broken,” a slight exaggeration, hardly a fib, “one of your bellhops will need to carry her to the elevator. I hope your staff is up to date on their flu vaccines.”

The bellhops looked at one another in gratifying concern as Sophia sounded like she was hacking up a lung.

“We have a wheelchair for emergencies.” The general manager nodded at one of the bellhops, who left the suite immediately, no doubt as eager to get away from Sophia's germs as he was to locate a wheelchair.

Grace hoped it would take a long time to find it. She looked at the cell phone in her hand, but the screen was still dark. The director of Texas Rescue had rather coolly informed her that she would ask if any Texas Rescue personnel were willing to put up two adults for a week in their own house. Knowing one of those two adults was sick with pneumonia made it unlikely, as she was sure Grace understood, but if she was successful, she'd call Grace.

She hadn't called.

No one in Texas Rescue seemed very enchanted with Sophia Jackson after her grudging appearance at the ribbon cutting. Grace had seen the videos on social media during the cab ride back to the hotel. Her sister had clearly caused her own injury, stomping into an area marked with bright orange off-limits signs. Six-second Vines and little gifs with grammatically incorrect captions were now posted all over social media. Bloggers and meme makers had helpfully circled all the warning signs in bright colors.
When Princessezz No Read
.

Sophia Jackson, who three months ago was a smart actress who made smart movies, had become a joke.

Threatening to sue Texas Rescue hadn't been the way to make them open their guest bedrooms, either. Grace didn't know what to try next if no one in the organization took pity on them. She looked over her shoulder at Sophia. Yesterday's complimentary fruit platter, a gift from the hotel before the Jacksons had refused to leave on time, adorned the coffee table like a work of art. It was an easy reach from the couch. Sophia ate a strawberry.

Grace's stomach rumbled. Her phone stayed dark. The manager stared her down.

A knock at the door made everyone jump. The bellhop practically ran to the door, as if Grace might try to beat him to it. A police officer in a blue uniform, badge and gun on display, strode into the hotel room. His radio loudly sounded off with some official dispatcher talk.

“Seriously?” Sophia said, lifting her head and pitching her half-eaten strawberry onto the coffee table. “You called the goddamned cops on us?”

The manager was looking smug, but the cop was looking from the bellhop to the manager to Sophia, and the look on his face was definitely confused. Grace had barely had a second to wonder what the policeman had expected to see when Dr. Gregory walked in.

She would have been as surprised to see the president of the United States walk into the presidential suite. Alex was still wearing his green scrubs, but the stethoscope was missing and he'd pushed up the long sleeves of that white undershirt. His day's razor stubble was reaching beard status. He looked tired, but he was looking for her, because he stopped and nodded at her once he saw her.

Sophia commanded center stage from her sofa. “You know what they say about men who have to compensate by calling in cops.” She'd propped herself up on her elbows, taking in the scene. When all the men looked at her, she arched back a little bit and gave her blond hair a shake. The look she leveled on the manager conveyed both confidence in herself and derision toward him. “Were you afraid of me? Thought you needed a
bigger
man to back you up?”

The way she pronounced
up
, popping the
p
sound through her strawberry-stained lips, made Grace want to blush. She didn't dare make eye contact with Alex.

The manager snapped his fingers at the bellhop. “Charles, please go into the bedroom and get Miss Jackson's luggage for her.”

“Don't you dare touch my stuff,” Sophia said.

The bellhop froze in place, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

Grace smiled in vain. “You can't get our luggage, you see, because it isn't packed yet. It's just a big empty suitcase.”

“I suggest you pack quickly,” the manager said. “The police don't have all day. You can wait for your phone call in the lobby.”

“We cannot wait in the lobby.” Grace spoke through a clenched jaw, but she couldn't keep smiling and being deferential forever. “She's Sophia Jackson.”

“I'm well aware of that.”

“She was in
Space Maze
. That's a huge sci-fi hit, and the reason you're out of rooms is because South by Southwest is in full swing. Your hotel is full of
Space Maze
fans.” It was another small lie. The indie music and film festival wasn't the same thing as a sci-fi movie convention, but accuracy didn't matter right now. “They'll mob her. Then you really will need the police, because she'll be in danger on your property.” And that much was too true.

Alex stepped into the center of the room. The manager, bellhops, cop and movie star were arrayed all around him. He rested his hands on his hips and looked right at Grace. “I seem to have walked into the middle of something here.”

She took a breath to explain, ready to plead her case one more time, but Alex slowly winked at her.

He didn't break his poker face, but that wink...

He'd walked into the middle...

Was he—was he making a
pun
while she was being kicked out into the street?

“And you are?” the manager intoned in what was now some kind of British butler's voice.

“Dr. Alexander Gregory. And you are?”

Grace bit her lip. Alex did a better man-in-charge voice than the manager, probably because he was used to being in charge in the emergency room, where things were a lot more important than who got two queens and a sleeper sofa.

The manager was only halfway through giving his official title when the police officer interrupted him. “I need to speak to Miss Jackson. It's time sensitive.”

“Indeed. They were supposed to vacate the room by four o'clock—”

“He means there's a judge and a possible warrant waiting to be issued. We need to speak to Miss Jackson.” Alex sounded calm, but there was something in his voice, a little impatience, perhaps.

“Ohmigod. What did I do?” Sophia definitely sounded less than calm. “I didn't do anything.”

Alex actually rolled his eyes before turning toward the couch. “Everything's not always about you, Sophia. We need to talk to Grace.”

Sophia didn't have a chance to recover from her momentary shock at being dismissed by Alex, because the bellhop arrived with the wheelchair. Alex and the police officer exchanged a look.

The officer held out his arms and made a general shooing motion toward the door with the clipboard in his hand. “Everybody out. I'm conducting an interview.”

The manager thought about objecting, Grace could tell, but the officer didn't look like he was open to discussion. The manager followed his bellhops out the door.

The officer hesitated before shutting the door, looking from Sophia's cast boot to the wheelchair, but Alex shook his head. “That's her sister.”

“Ah.” The officer was subtle about it, but now he looked between bombshell Sophia and gray-clad Grace.

Yeah, I know. Never would have guessed, would you?

“If you'd rather speak in private, your sister could move into the bedroom,” he said.

Sophia rolled her booted foot from side to side. “Only if you carry me, big guy. My little tootsies can't touch the floor.”

Grace tried to ignore her sister and focus on Alex. “I thought you didn't want to visit a patient in her hotel room.”

A ghost of a smile briefly touched his lips. “I discharged her this afternoon. Technically, she's no longer my patient, but I didn't come to see her, anyway.”

“I thought maybe Texas Rescue had sent you over, but the policeman gave it away. You must have an update for me on Mrs. Burns, after all.” Oh, but wouldn't it have been nice if Alex had been the person from Texas Rescue to offer her shelter from the angry hotel staff? It was a selfish wish. The officer's uniform, with its holster and handcuffs, was a vivid reminder that no matter how frustrating her situation was, another woman in Austin was in far worse straits. “Isn't that why you're here?”

The officer spoke. “I'd like to ask you a few questions. You aren't obligated to answer, but I'm hoping you can help us.”

“Yes, of course.”

She followed the officer to sit at the dining room table. Alex sat in the chair next to hers, resting his forearms on the table. With his sleeves pushed up, she could see his arms were tan. A real tan, not a Hollywood spray tan. She already knew his skin was warm...

He caught her staring.

She was hungry, she was about to be homeless, but she forced herself to focus. He hadn't answered her question. “Why are
you
here with the police officer?”

“Because I knew you would say ‘yes, of course' without stopping to think of yourself.” He phrased it like a criticism, but the warmth in his ice-blue eyes made her feel like she'd been complimented. “I made you a promise back in the ER that I'd personally make sure any interview with the police was private.”

“I wouldn't have interviewed her on a street corner with a megaphone,” the officer said with some amusement in his voice.

Alex ignored him. “I also told you not to worry, that I'd handle the situation. If I gave your location to the police and went home while you got a surprise visit from law enforcement, I wouldn't be a man of my word.”

A man of his word. She hoped Sophia had heard that. Her sister was the one who needed a kinder, better man. But honestly, if Sophia couldn't appreciate a man like Alex, then Grace was tempted to...well...tempt the man herself. If she could remember how.

What kind of sister am I? Alex is just what Sophia needs.

The police officer silenced his radio. “Shall we begin?”