Heroes (Hollywood Heartthrobs #1) (3 page)

BOOK: Heroes (Hollywood Heartthrobs #1)
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She
got up from the bed and opened her suitcase. She unrolled the blue dress and
hung it in the hotel room’s tiny closet. She decided to wear it tomorrow as
well as to the panel on Saturday. No one would be likely to see her twice.
Plus, she hadn’t actually packed enough clothes to wear a new outfit each day
of the trip. That would have left too little room in the suitcase for books.
She smiled. The dress was a favorite, and it was going to look great on her.

The
hotel’s website had advertised stunning views of downtown Chicago. Opening the
cheap, chintzy curtains to reveal a view of an alley, a brick building, and
several oversized trashcans, Jessie stood at the window and thought about what
Adam had said about meeting someone. Since the fallout with Richard, she had
avoided dating men she met through her work, which mostly meant she dated men
with whom she had little in common. There had been a few short-lived
relationships, most recently an adjunct faculty member from the engineering
school who finally admitted in the heat of an argument to believing the arts
were just a way for people not smart enough for hard sciences to pass the time.
She had composed a sonnet in iambic pentameter as a break-up note. Not her most
mature moment, but the ass had it coming. She smiled thinking of the biting insult
to his manhood in the final couplet.

More
than anything, she wanted a man to respect her. Not just in the sense of
respect for boundaries or anything, that went without saying as far as Jessie
was concerned. She wanted someone who respected her abilities, her mind, hell,
even her fencing skills. So many men wanted to relegate her to a role as some
sort of overgrown teenage nerd unable to cope with reality. That, she couldn’t
bear.

Giving
up on Marvell, she checked the weather report for the next day. The forecast
was warm and sunny. Glorious, the busty blonde newscaster put it. Well, if you
say so, thought Jessie, pulling on her pajamas.

Maybe
if it was really nice, she could actually get outside a bit. She had an
appointment at a library in Streeterville in the morning; if it was really as
beautiful as Blondie said, maybe she’d take her notebook down to the Chicago
River Walk, spread out her books on a towel on the grass like she was back on
the quad. Or she could wander down to the lakeshore; watching the tourist boats
take off from Navy Pier might go nicely with some themes of journeying she had
been exploring in poetry. Probably not what Adam meant by a day out in Chicago,
but Jessie doubted very much she would meet anyone as sexy as the speaker in
To
His Coy Mistress
anywhere in the city.  

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 3

 

          Even with
small kids, the Everett house rose early, and the next day was no exception.
Nathan worked as an account manager at a big-time Chicago valuation firm. They
allowed him to telecommute from his office at the house Tuesdays and Thursdays,
but Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays he usually left before seven to make the
hour-plus drive into the city. Samantha was the proprietress of a trendy
cupcake shop near the house, and was out the door sometimes even before Nathan.
Even the boys were used to being up and off to the babysitter’s a few hours
before they had to be at school. So, at 6am Dean was the only one not looking
bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Since it was spring break at the local elementary
school, Samantha had called to cancel with the babysitter so the boys could go
into the city with Dean. The plan was to ride in with Nathan, show the boys off
at Nathan’s office over coffee and donuts, then Dean would take them site
seeing for the day before all riding home together.

          Dean felt
amusingly slovenly strolling into Nathan’s office with him. Nathan was dressed,
as usual, in an elegantly understated suit with a handkerchief that matched his
tie. He believed the best dressed man in the office was usually the one people
listened to, and his record at the firm seemed to support his theory. Dean,
however, was wearing a pair of Wranglers with a simple hooded sweatshirt and
sneakers. Used to assorted assistants to the show or one of Stuart’s revolving
door of beautiful young female employees primping him for the cameras at all
hours of the day and night, it felt great to be the most under-dressed man in
the room. Besides, all eyes were on the boys as Nathan’s coworkers came and
went with high-fives and affectionate childlike nicknames for Tucker and Alec
like “junior,” “tiger,” and “sport.” The view from Nathan’s thirty-fifth story
office was so impressive both boys left hand and nose prints on the plate
glass. That was Nathan’s cue for Dean to get them out.

          With Tucker
walking next to him and Alec riding on his shoulders, Dean led the way out of
the maze of skyscrapers in the center of Chicago to the clear open air of Lake
Shore Drive. It was a beautiful early spring day, unusually warm for late
April. Navy Pier jutted thoughtlessly out into the calm endless blue of Lake
Michigan. It was a terrific tourist trap brimming with bad food and kitschy
souvenir shops, but Dean held a soft spot for it. Navy Pier was home to the
Chicago Shakespeare Theater. At the age of fifteen, when his greatest hero had
been the first baseman for the Chicago Cubs, Dean had gone with a school trip
to see a matinee production of Shakespeare’s
Henry V
at the theater on
Navy Pier. Sitting in that theater, letting the words soak into his teenage
mind, that production had started him on the path to acting. A month later, he
had auditioned for the part of Mercutio in his high school production of
Romeo
and Juliet
. The rest, as they say, was history. It was a long way from
Shakespeare to
Once Bitten
, but this place held a special significance
to him still.

Thinking
that kids stuffed full of donuts should probably have a break before the rides,
they strolled from the entrance all the way out to the end of the pier to look
at the lake before circling back to the Ferris Wheel, mini golf course, and
Chicago Children’s Museum.

          After a lunch
of greasy cheeseburgers, Tucker and Alec were clearly wearing thin. Nathan had
warned Dean they might not make it the day, and said that in that case they
were welcome to come back to the office and one of the secretaries could pop a
Disney movie in the projector in an empty conference room. By 2pm, this was
looking like a winning plan. Thinking the boys had had enough walking for the
day, Dean quickly checked the bus route map out in front of the entrance arch.
A bus here would require a transfer, but four blocks further on they could
catch one that would drop them right outside Nathan’s building. The boys could
hoof it another four blocks, no problem, he thought. This had been a great day,
and they were obviously tired, but their spirits had been sky-high all day.

          It turned out
four city blocks was a lot longer with two tired children in tow than Dean had
imagined. By the end of the second he found himself cajoling them that it was
just a little further and they would be there soon. Super soon. Super duper
soon.

          Up to that
point, the most significant events in Dean’s life had been events that took
time, included anticipation or dread, and were long enough in coming that he
mentally prepared for them. They included traumatic things like his mother’s
death when he was a teen after her long battle with cancer, or his father’s
passing three years ago after several successive strokes left him increasingly
weak. They also included joyful things, like standing as best man at Nathan and
Samantha’s wedding, or holding Tucker and then later Alec for the first time.
They included career successes like seeing a commercial he filmed air for the
first time, or getting the call that told him he’d won the part of Jared. But
none of those events had ever hit him as suddenly and completely as what was
about to happen. He was utterly unprepared.

          Finally
arriving at the bus stop, Tucker, Alec, and Dean were all clearly at the end of
their rope. Alec sat down on the sheltered bench and quietly began to play with
a toy Dean had helped him win from a claw game. It was a paddle game with an
attached rubber ball. Meanwhile, Tucker’s shoelaces had come undone, and in his
exhaustion he seemed to have suddenly forgotten how to retie them. Dean bent
down to help him as three or four other people began to congregate around the
stop. Later, Dean would ask himself repeatedly if he had heard, or could have
heard, the elastic string on Alec’s toy snap as the ball flew out of the bus
shelter enclosure.

The
first he did hear over Tucker’s soft whining about doing his laces “bunny
ears,” whatever that meant, was a man’s voice shout “Hey, kid!” The first thing
he saw was Tucker’s eyes go wide. Dean turned around like lightning, but he
wasn’t fast enough. Alec was standing a good four feet from the curb, broken
paddle toy in one hand, rubber ball in the other, right in the lane of traffic
as a delivery truck screeched in a desperate attempt to slow down before the
inevitable impact. Alec looked like a tiny deer in headlights. Dean moved to
pull him back, but he was too far.

          Someone else
was closer. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. In a blur of blue
topped with brown someone darted off the curb and threw Alec back toward the
enclosure. It was a woman. Now she was in the path of the truck. She turned
back to the curb just as the truck was closing in. Dean reached out and grabbed
her right arm, pulling her in toward him. He had a sudden blazingly clear image
of bright green eyes meeting his. But then the truck was on her. She put her
left arm up in an instinctive, if pointless, defensive reaction. It hit. She
seemed to bounce off the front of the truck and into his arms. He could feel
the impact of the truck shudder through her arm as it hit her and he pulled.

The
truck managed to stop about six feet from where the impact had occurred. Dean
was on the ground in front of the bus stop, the woman in blue on top of him.
Warm, sticky blood ran steadily from the wound at her left elbow down onto his
hand and sweatshirt. Someone was screaming, and Dean could hear the boys crying
desperately behind him. He didn’t move or think. Then there were panicked
voices shouting, followed shortly by sirens. He finally lifted his head to look
at the bench. Alec was sitting sobbing on the ground but apparently unhurt, Tucker’s
arms wrapped around him as he cried as well. Dean’s only thought was that the
boys were okay. He laid his head back on the concrete.

The
ambulance arrived and Dean still hadn’t moved. Neither had the woman on top of
him. All he could see was the top of her head, brown hair falling softly around
his neck. It seemed like everything, even his own body, was very far away. It
appeared the paramedics were trying to talk to him and the woman, but neither
were answering. One was touching her neck, then his, then ran two hands along
her spine. Checking for spinal injuries, maybe? Dean wondered distantly.
Evidently satisfied, the paramedic signaled to his partner, and they lifted the
woman onto a stretcher, bandaging up her arm. The white thing sticking out of the
red would have to be a bone, right? Dean thought. Then the paramedic was
touching his neck and sides. Only then did he realize maybe he should try to
answer.

“Sir?
Sir! Can you hear me?” the paramedic asked, loudly. He had a scar on his
forehead. Dean thought it looked something like a half moon. “Sir, if you can
hear me, I need you to answer. Are you hurt? Were you hit by the truck?”

Dean
took in a breath. “No,” he said, with great effort. “The truck did not hit me.
It hit her.”

“Are
you hurt anywhere?”

Dean
had to think about that for a moment. Did anything hurt? He was not aware of
any pain. He thought about his arms, then his legs, then his back, then his
torso, then his head. His head, that hurt. Okay then.

“The
back of my head hurts,” he said slowly. “But not very bad.”

The
paramedic gingerly slid a hand under Dean’s neck. “I don’t feel or see any
blood. Do you think you can sit up?”

Dean
nodded that he thought he could. He sat up, reaching back to the sore spot on
the back of his head. A lump was forming at the sore spot, but there was no
blood. He appeared to be completely uninjured. So why did he feel like his
brain, heart, and lungs had been scooped out?

“I’m
alright.” He said to the paramedic. “What about her?”

The
paramedic looked over to his partner, just emerging from the ambulance. “She is
going to Chicago General Hospital. You’d better come along too, even if you
feel alright.”

“But,
the boys,” Dean said, looking over to Tucker and Alec, still sobbing but now
more quietly.

“Are
they in your care?” the paramedic asked in a businesslike fashion.

“Yes,”
Dean said forcefully. It was the only thing in the world he was sure of.

“Then
they ride with the officer.” Dean hadn’t even noticed the police cruiser join
the crowd. A kindly-looking officer came up to Tucker and Alec, held out her
hands, and told them they were all coming to the hospital together. Tucker and
Alec looked too terrified to argue.

“They
come with me,” Dean said, with a sudden rush of anger.

“Yes,
sir, your sons will ride with Officer Malley and meet you at the emergency
room. We need to ensure you are all safe and sound.” At this point the
paramedic was helping Dean to his feet and leading him to the ambulance. He sat
in a chair in the back. The woman in blue was lying, still apparently
unconscious, on the stretcher in the middle of the ambulance. Her neck was in a
brace and her left arm (bone still protruding ghoulishly) was strapped immobile
next to her.

The
next few hours were a haze to Dean.

He
could recall only vaguely the ride in the ambulance, sitting in a chair at the
back while a paramedic leaned over the woman in blue. Then there was an
emergency room, Tucker and Alec led by the police officer to sit near him while
a doctor satisfied himself that Dean was in fact unhurt. Someone handed him a
plain white t-shirt to put on, instructing him to take off his blood-stained
sweatshirt. At some point he must have either called Nathan or given one of the
medical staff Nathan’s cell number, because he remembered Nathan arriving. The
boys cried some more, this time probably with relief at the sight of their
father. Officer Malley had come to take a statement, and he told her what he
thought he remembered. The only clear memory he made of that conversation was
Officer Malley’s low whistle when he told her that, no, the woman had not been
with them. He had never seen her before. Dean had been cleared to leave, and
Nathan had attempted to lead him out with the boys, but he resisted. He had to
see that woman again, make sure she was okay before he left. Whatever he said
must have been convincing, because Nathan and the boys left quietly.

His
mind did not finally clear until he got to the woman in blue’s room. A nurse
had led him in, then left, presumably to attend other patients. She was no
longer in the emergency area, but had been assigned a regular room. She was
unconscious, and her chart listed her as a Jane Doe. The clock above the window
said it was a little after 6pm.

Dean
sat down on the chair, at last trying to process the events of the past hours.
He could see it over and over again in his mind: Alec standing in the street
holding the pieces of his broken carnival toy; the truck racing toward him
despite the squealing brakes; the blue blur as someone closer and faster pushed
Alec from the line of fire; and finally the green eyes locking with his as he
tried in vain to pull her back before the impact. He knew those seconds would
haunt him forever.

He
stood up to look more closely at the woman who had saved Alec. The blue dress
was nowhere to be seen, instead she wore an off-white hospital gown. She was no
longer wearing the neck brace, but a wide band of gauze was wrapped around her
head just above her eyes. Her arm was covered in bandages different from the
ones in the ambulance. It looked like there was a splint or cast underneath.
Had she been in surgery? She must have, with a break like that. Was she
unconscious again from the surgery, or unconscious still from the accident? He
tried to remember if anything had hit her head. He knew the front of the truck
had hit her arm first, then he could remember her falling towards him. But she
had been unconscious when the ambulance arrived. The truck’s side mirror,
perhaps? That was a possibility.

BOOK: Heroes (Hollywood Heartthrobs #1)
4.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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