Kristi Gold - Hotel Marchand 04 (12 page)

That’s when Renee saw it, the exchanged look between her mother and William, the way he touched her shoulder, with inherent gentleness. The obvious connection between them.

“As soon as the nurse says we can go, I’ll take Daisy home with me,” Anne said.

Not a great idea, as far as Renee was concerned. “You should take her to Charlotte’s, Mother. You need to rest.”

“I can only rest if she’s with me so I can watch her tonight.”

Not at all surprising to Renee. “Fine, but I’m going to see if Charlotte can come over anyway, in case you need her.”

Anne looked both resigned and a bit frustrated. “Only if you absolutely think that’s necessary.”

“I do.”

“So do I,” Melanie chimed in. “And I’ll stay over, too.”

Daisy stopped twirling a lock of red hair around her finger and stuck out her lip in pout. “I want to see Adam.”

“He’s with the doctor right now,” Melanie said. “Maybe you can see him tomorrow.”

“How about we invite him over to play in the next day or so if he’s feeling up to it?” Anne offered.

Renee intended to find out exactly what was going on with Adam. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said as she headed into the hallway.

When she spotted a lithe woman dressed in bright floral scrubs approaching, she said, “Excuse me,” to garner her attention.

The nurse looked up from a metal chart and smiled. “May I help you?”

“I hope so. I’m wondering if you know how Adam Turnbow is doing.”

“Are you family?”

“Actually, no.” She pointed at the room behind her. “My niece was in the car with him at the time of the accident, and I’m a friend of Adam’s uncle. He should be with him now.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “That’s his uncle? They look so much alike, I thought he was the boy’s father.”

In many ways, Pete had assumed the role of Adam’s father. “Can you at least tell me if Adam’s okay?”

The nurse hesitated as if unsure whether she should release that information. But when Renee sent her a pleading look, she said, “He’s sedated and sleeping right now. He has a broken arm but no other serious injuries. Now, the boy’s uncle isn’t doing so well. He’s been grilling the doctor for the past few minutes. I almost offered to give him some sedation.”

Renee wasn’t surprised. She imagined Pete was completely torn up over seeing his nephew injured. “Thank you. I’ll check on him later.”

“You do that. He looks like he could use a friend about now.”

And Renee was more than willing to be that friend.

P
ETE HELD
A
DAM’S HAND
in the well of his palm, watching him sleep and realizing how small he looked at the moment. A fierce surge of protectiveness consumed him, as well as a good measure of guilt that he’d failed to keep him safe. Just like he’d failed Adam’s father. Like he’d failed Adam’s mother.

The sound of voices outside the room drew his attention to the open door where Renee now stood. He was so damn glad to see her it took all his strength not to leave his nephew and go to her, hold her, accept the solace he knew she could provide him.

“Can I come in?” she whispered.

“Sure.”

When Renee approached the bed, Adam’s eyes drifted open and he raised his head from the pillow. “My arm’s broken up, Renee.” He lifted his cast and displayed it with all the pride of a four-star general exhibiting his medals.

Renee pulled up a chair and sat. “It’s purple to match your New Orleans T-shirt.”

“Uh-huh.” Then he closed his eyes once more, his features growing slack.

Renee gently feathered a lock of hair from Adam’s forehead. “He’s totally worn out, isn’t he?”

“He’s drunk. Or maybe I should say drugged. They gave him something to help him sleep.”

“I take it they don’t intend to release him tonight.”

“No. They’re going to keep him under observation until the morning.”

Pete noted the panic in Renee’s expression right before she asked, “They don’t think anything is wrong with him aside from the broken arm, do they?”

“It’s a precautionary measure. I told the doctor I wasn’t going to leave until I knew without a doubt he was okay. It took a while, but he finally agreed to admit him. They’re supposedly about to move him to a room on the pediatric floor.”

“I’m sure you’ll both be more comfortable in a real room instead of this ER cubicle.”

He appreciated that Renee realized he planned to stay with Adam all night. She, on the other hand, needed some sleep. “You should go home now before you drop in your tracks.”

She set her purse on the floor beside her. “I’m not sleepy at all. Too much adrenaline on board. I thought I might stay, too. You could probably use the company.”

“That’s not necessary, Renee.” But he was glad she made the offer, even if he wasn’t going to accept it.

“I know it’s not necessary, but that’s what friends are for. I can help you stay awake since I know that’s what you’re determined to do.”

She knew him well, better than most women. Better than most people, even if she had emphasized they were only friends. “Okay, you can stay for a few hours. I’d like to find out how this happened.”

Pete had never seen Renee look so reticent, and that led him to believe he wouldn’t like what she had to tell him. “Luc was driving Melanie and the kids back to her apartment when this car—”

“Luc was driving?” He knew better than to trust him.

“Yes, and it appears his quick thinking kept the accident from being worse when the car ran the stop sign. The other driver was definitely at fault.”

Hell, he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. He should probably feel bad about that, but right now, misjudging the concierge was the least of his concerns. “Where’s the bastard responsible for this?”

“No one knows who did it. They left the scene right after it happened. But Melanie did tell me something that might aid in the identity of the driver.”

“Did she get a license plate number?”

“No, but she described the car as being a black sedan, much like the one I saw in front of the hotel today.”

Son of a bitch. “You’re saying paparazzi might be responsible for this?”

“It’s just a theory, Pete. We don’t have any proof, but it makes sense if they were following Adam.”

“And trying to figure out who he was.” That was the only thing that made sense in this sorry situation. “The jackasses don’t give a damn about anything except selling photographs, regardless of the cost. It makes me sick.”

Renee laid a hand on his arm. “I could be wrong. It might have been someone who’d had too much to drink. I shouldn’t speculate when I don’t know for certain, and now I’ve only upset you more.”

Pete lowered his head and laced his fingers behind his neck. “Media hounds generally piss me off, Renee.” When she smoothed her hand through his hair, he looked up at her. “This is the part of the life that I despise. I’ve been able to save Adam and Trish from media antics up until now, but I should have known it wouldn’t last. It’s a good thing he’s leaving the country, otherwise they could make his and my sister’s life a living hell, and they don’t deserve that.”

As much as it had pained Pete to say it—to even think it—Adam’s departure was for the best. If he couldn’t maintain his own privacy, at least his family could theirs. And that only served to remind him that asking Renee to stay involved in his life wouldn’t be fair. He couldn’t protect her from the lack of privacy, the press’s penchant for laying your life bare as if they had a permit to intrude. He had no reason to believe she’d be willing to throw herself out into the spotlight, no right to expect anything at all from her. Period.

“Have you called your sister?” she asked.

He straightened and released a rough sigh. “I’ll call her in the morning, as soon as I know for sure Adam’s okay.”

“Pete, you should do it now. If I were Adam’s mother, I’d want to know immediately.”

“Not tonight.” He didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but he had his reasons for not wanting to call his sister.

Truth was, he didn’t want to upset Trish. He still carried around the fear that any life jolt whatsoever could send her back into a tailspin. And this time, he wouldn’t be there to save her.

R
ENEE DIDN’T KNOW
how long she’d been asleep on the sofa, but she did know that the room was dark, and incredibly cold. The red-and-gold USC sweatshirt she’d grabbed from the closet in her haste to get to the hospital had worn well with age—almost twenty years to be exact. But it didn’t seem to provide much in the way of protection against the almost frigid conditions. She also knew that that at some point during the night, she’d ended up with her cheek resting against Pete’s shoulder, his arm securely around her.

The door creaked open, spilling a stream of light over the bed where Adam still slept, seemingly oblivious that a nurse had been in periodically to check on him. Renee could see enough to tell that this was a different nurse, a male nurse, indicating that the shift had probably changed. And that usually meant 7:00 a.m. had arrived.

Stretching her arms above her head, Renee glanced to her right to see Pete watching the man check the readings on the monitors that had clicked like castanets throughout the night. She doubted Pete had slept at all, and although she’d tried to stay awake with him, his gentle strokes up and down her arm had eventually lulled her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

“How’s he doing?” Pete asked, his voice morning rough.

“He’s great,” the man said. “As soon as the doc makes rounds in an hour or two, he’ll probably be released.”

Pete leaned forward and dragged both hands over his face before regarding Renee. “I could really use some coffee.”

“So could I,” she said. “Why don’t we see if we can find some?”

“If he wakes up, I want to be here.”

“I’ll stay until you get back,” the nurse offered. “It’s slow this morning. If he wakes up, I’ll come get you. The vending machines are about four doors down, right off the waiting room next to the nurses’ station.”

Renee stood, slipped her purse strap over her shoulder and clasped Pete’s hands to pull him up. “Come on. You could use a break.” And she could use some time to talk to him alone, in a normal voice.

“Okay, but only for a few minutes.”

Pete followed Renee to the door and took a last look at Adam before they went in search of the vending machines. Without saying a word, Renee retrieved each of them coffee and led Pete into the small waiting room, which was fortunately deserted. After they took opposing chairs, she set her cup on the end table and rummaged through her purse to retrieve her cell phone.

“Use this to call your sister,” she said.

He studied some focal point above her head, ignoring her offer of the phone. “I’ve got my own phone. And I’m not ready to tell her yet.”

Renee dropped the cell back in her bag and sighed. “Okay. Suit yourself. But the longer you put if off, the more difficult it’s going to be. And what’s the worst that could happen?”

He leveled his gaze on her. “You don’t understand the situation with Trish. You don’t know what this might do to her.”

Renee was filled with a sudden sense of dread, but she wanted to know exactly what was wrong with his sister. “You’re right, I don’t understand. So make me understand.”

He collapsed against the back of the chair, as if the last of his energy had seeped out. “Trish hasn’t been well. She’s doing better now, and she assures me she’s completely recovered, but I’m reluctant to believe it. I don’t want to upset her.”

None of this made any sense to Renee. “I’d think she’d be more upset if you didn’t tell her that her son’s been hurt. She’s going to know when she sees him on Friday.”

“She’s fragile, Renee. And I don’t mean physically.”

Finally, the complete story was about to unfold. “Then you’re saying this has something to do with her mental state?”

When Pete leaned forward and studied the floor, Renee suspected he wasn’t going to make any more revelations, until he finally said, “After I left your apartment that morning three years ago, I got a call from one of Trish’s neighbors. She couldn’t get Trish to come to the door and she could hear Adam crying. I immediately caught a plane to Phoenix to see about her. And even now, thinking about what I discovered makes me sick.”

From the abject pain on Pete’s face, the distress in his tone, Renee suspected the scenario was much worse than she’d envisioned. “I’d understand if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“Maybe I should talk about it.”

She moved to the chair next to his and took his hand. “I’m listening.”

Following a sharp intake of breath, he continued. “The house was a wreck. Trish was on the couch, and when I came in, she only stared at me. I didn’t see any emotion in her eyes, not even any real recognition. I found Adam in his crib and an empty bottle on the floor. I don’t know when he’d eaten last, or how long it had been since she’d held him. I only know he reached for me like I was some kind of savior. Funny thing was, at that time he didn’t really know me, because I’d been too damn busy to get to know him.”

Renee’s heart ached for Pete, as well as for Adam and Adam’s mother. And then it dawned on her why Pete would have been reluctant to make her movie—the story of a young man whose mental illness affected everyone around him. “What happened after that?”

“I called 911 and they sent out an ambulance. She’d basically suffered a breakdown, resulting from depression over Sean’s death combined with raising Adam alone, or so they think. She was institutionalized, and that’s when I petitioned to be Adam’s guardian.” He released a humorless laugh. “Me, a legal guardian. A director who only dealt with kids during a film. I didn’t know a damn thing about how to take care of him, day in and day out, but I had to do it until Trish was released last year and I transitioned him back into her care. For two years, he was my responsibility, and I had to figure it all out as I went. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

Renee leaned her head on his shoulder. “And you’ve done a remarkable job.”

He bolted from the chair and began to pace. “But I didn’t protect him last night, just like I failed to protect Sean. And Trish.”

Renee didn’t know what surprised her most—that he took all the responsibility for things he couldn’t control, or that he’d admitted it to her. “Come on, Pete. You couldn’t have foreseen that Adam was going to be in an accident, and it could have easily happened when he was with you. As far as Sean Turnbow went, he was a renegade stuntman. Everyone knew he took risks.”

He spun around, his hands fisted at his sides, as if he might try to hit something. “I could have stopped him when he insisted on foregoing the usual gear when he climbed into that car. He wanted more reality, he told me, and I let him have it. And the reality is, it cost him his life.”

“And that was his decision, not yours.”

His expression went stony. “What about Trish, Renee? If I’d been paying attention to her, none of this would have happened. I should have called her more. I was all she had, and I let her down. I didn’t help her until it was almost too late.”

Renee went to her feet. “That’s the key word—almost. You did come through for her in the end, and you’ve definitely done right by Adam. You can’t protect everyone, Pete. Testosterone does not provide a man with superpowers or the ability to predict the future.”

“But my notoriety cost Adam last night. I should have considered that the press wasn’t going to let up. I sure as hell shouldn’t have let him venture out. And I shouldn’t have…” Both his words and gaze drifted away.

“Shouldn’t have been with me,” she finished for him.

“I didn’t mean it that way, Renee.”

“Yes, you did, and I understand.” She did understand, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. After retrieving her purse from the chair, she clutched it close to her body. “I’m going to go now. I have a backlog of work and I need to get busy.” She began to back away from him, feeling as if an invisible fortress had been erected between them. “Give Adam a hug for me. If you have a chance, call me and let me know how he’s doing.”

“Renee, I’m sorry.”

She raised one hand, palm forward, to stop him. “It’s okay, Pete. Really, it is.”

He hesitated a moment as if he had something important to say, just as he had at her apartment before this whole mess happened. “I appreciate all that you’ve done.”

That was it?
I appreciate you?
“You’re welcome, Pete.”

Right then, Renee only needed one thing—to get out of there fast, before Pete saw the threatening tears, the heartache most surely mirrored in her eyes.

Once in the hall, they walked in opposite directions, Pete returning to his nephew, while she returned to her job. Exactly as it had been the last time they were together.

“Y
OU LOOK TERRIBLE
, R
ENEE
.”

Charlotte certainly wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. “Try sleeping in a stiff lounge chair all night, then see how you look.” Try adding a good sobbing session to the mix. “Have you heard from Mother this morning?”

“Yes, and she told me Daisy Rose is fine and she had to talk Sylvie out of catching the first plane home from Boston. Melanie’s still shaken up and Luc’s a basket case. He’s asked about the kids several times.”

Poor Luc. He didn’t need to feel guilty, but Renee wasn’t surprised he did. “You did tell him we’re not holding him responsible, right?”

“I told him, but I don’t think it’s quite registered with him yet. Maybe he’ll be better in a few days.”

Charlotte pulled the door closed, ventured across the room and dragged a chair up in front of Renee’s desk. “So what’s going on with you and the director?”

Renee was too tired for twenty questions. She was too tired for even one question, particularly that one. “I’ve already told you, and our mother, we’re friends. Now let’s leave it at that.”

“But you were with him all day, then out with him last night again. At your apartment.”

Renee felt the initial flood of a blush. “Yes.”

Charlotte’s knowing smile crept in. “And?”

Realizing she wouldn’t get rid of her sister until she played true confessions, Renee decided to give Charlotte the answer she wanted. With a few embellishments, of course. “We had sex. Wild unrestrained sex in every feasible position and on every flat surface, as well as a few that weren’t flat. Are you happy now?”

As usual, Charlotte didn’t appear at all shocked. “Question is, are
you
happy now? Because you certainly don’t seem very happy.”

Dear Charlotte, who had always been able to read Renee like her favorite book. “It was fantastic. Better than fantastic. And that’s all there was to it, fantastic sex.”

Charlotte inclined her head and studied Renee. “You’re lying. That’s not all there is to it. You have feelings for Pete. My guess is, really strong feelings for him.”

She had guessed right. “It doesn’t matter how I feel about him. On Friday, he’ll be going back to his world while I stay in mine. And because Adam was injured last night, I doubt I’ll even see him between now and then.”

“But if he makes his movie here, you can see him then.”

Renee had considered that possibility, until this morning. “He might not be back for months. Maybe even a year. I’m not going to put my life on hold for him.”

“What life, Renee?” Charlotte asked. “You go to work and you go home. You don’t mingle. You don’t date. You don’t do much of anything.”

Renee couldn’t believe Charlotte’s nerve. “That’s a bit hypocritical, don’t you think? Because I could swear you and I have the same routine.”

That earned Renee a scowl. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you and this incredibly gorgeous man, who happens to be a famous director. Don’t you think exploring a relationship with him might be worth a shot?”

Not at the risk of her emotional well-being. “I can’t, Charlotte. Not this time.”

“Why not?”

“Because it hurts too badly to say goodbye.”

Charlotte rose and pointed at Renee. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to find some way to be alone with him again. You’re going to tell him how you feel, then you’re going to show him. And after that, if he decides to leave without any kind of commitment, then let him go. But don’t let him leave with things left unsaid. You’ll only live to regret it, and wonder what might have been.”

The sincerity in Charlotte’s tone, her somber expression, led Renee to believe that she might be speaking from experience. “I’ll think about it tomorrow.”

Charlotte grinned. “Spoken like a true procrastinating Southern Belle.”

“Go away, Charlotte. I need to call the local newspaper and make sure they don’t identify Pete’s nephew in the accident report.”

Charlotte straightened and tugged at the hem of her beige cashmere sweater. “How do you intend to do that?”

“By making a few promises, namely agreeing to purchase a full-page ad in the special insert scheduled to come out the week before Mardi Gras.”

“That’s a huge expense, Renee. We can’t afford it.”

“We can’t afford the blow to our reputation if word gets out one of our famous guests—a child no less—was injured while under the care of our employees, even if it was an accident. I’ll use my own money if I have to.” To protect the hotel, and Pete.

Charlotte lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Okay. You’re the PR guru. I’ll have to trust you on this one.”

“Thank you. Now go to work and let me do the same, otherwise neither of us will have a job.”

Renee would do everything in her power to prevent the hotel from falling into ruin, and she knew her sisters felt the same. They needed to do more than simply have it stay solvent. They needed to make it thrive, to be assured that their parents’ legacy stayed in the family for years to come. And after Pete left, the Hotel Marchand would once again be her refuge, just as it had been when she was fired from the studio.

“Y
OU NEARLY KILLED TWO KIDS
, you bastard.”

For a moment Luc only heard the ominous sound of rasping breath, satisfied that he had caught Dan Corbin off guard. But his satisfaction was short-lived when Corbin said, “You’re walking on thin ice, Mr. Carter.”