Prima Donna (27 page)

“What?”
Julia’s eyes bulged. “Why?”

“You mean besides—?” It was the first time Regan faltered. She’d come here fully intending on telling Julia every reason she had for quitting her job, including the most important one she’d finally come to grips with last night, but that wasn’t going to happen now. Did she really want these two to be the first ones to hear her say it? No freakin’ way. “I got another job.”

“When?”
Julia looked at Rossick like he’d have the answer, but of course all he could do was shrug. “Where?”

“It’s out of town.”

“Out of town?” Julia cried, scrambling to sort out everything that had happened in the last couple minutes. She reached for Regan’s arm, but stopped when Regan stepped back. “But why? I thought you liked it here.”

“I did.” She shifted on her feet and forced her voice to remain cool and calm, a direct contradiction to how it felt rattling up her throat. “Look, I really and truly appreciate you giving me this job, and I hope you were happy with having me here.”

“We were,” Julia rushed to answer, nodding between Rossick and Regan. “We
are
.”

“The truth is,” Regan went on, “things are complicated, and I needed to make some drastic changes, so when this opportunity came up, I had to take it. I got a job out of town. I actually came in here this morning to give you my two weeks’ notice, but now…” She swallowed hard, dragged her glare over Rossick before turning back to Jules. “Knowing what you really think of me, it’s probably best if I leave today.”

She’d already reached for the doorknob when Rossick huffed out a grunt.

“I can’t believe you’re just going to leave us in the lurch like this.”

Regan stopped, turned slowly. “And I can’t believe you just stood there and called me a slut. Guess we all learned something new today, didn’t we?”

“I didn’t mean—”

Regan turned to Julia, completely ignoring Rossick’s sputtering. “If you call the temp service, they can have someone here within the hour and I’m sure she can stay until you’re able to find someone permanently.”

She jerked the door open, then turned back, shaking her head at both of them. “How can you even think Carter’s not invested in you two or in this place? So he wouldn’t partner up here—who cares? Is that what you need him to do to prove you can trust him?”

Julia frowned at Rossick before turning back to Regan. “Uh, Regan—”

“No, Julia, don’t. Who stayed up with you night after night, tutoring you through bio-chem? That was Carter. And Rossick, who helped cover your tuition when your student loans were late being approved? Who helped connect you both with the faculty at St. Mark’s—connections that propelled you both into jobs there? Christ almighty, who fronted you the money for the down payment on this place?”

The stunned looks on their faces only riled her more.

“Shut your office doors if you don’t want me to hear what you’re talking about! Do you want to know why he leaves the decisions up to you two? Why he wouldn’t even give an opinion on which apartment you took?” She didn’t wait for either of them to answer. “Because he loves you and he wants you to have what
you
want, not what
he
wants. He wants you to be happy, that’s all, and no signature on a stupid lease is going to prove that any more than he already has!”

“Regan.” Julia took a step toward her, but Regan shifted back.

“How could you ever doubt that?” She jerked the door closed behind her and didn’t slow down until she was halfway home. The back road wasn’t exactly pedestrian friendly, but the walk helped calm her—a little, anyway—so by the time she got to her apartment, she’d stopped planning ways to maim Rossick.

It was one thing to have her mother call her those things—at least Regan was prepared. But to have Rossick…
Rossick
…suggest it…oh no, she sure as hell
did not
have to put up with that shit.

With a fresh cup of coffee in one hand, she pulled out her phone, scanned the contacts until she found his number, and hit send before she could change her mind.

“Griffin? It’s Regan Burke. Yeah, I’m good, thanks…Listen, I was wondering if I could make a counterproposal to your job offer.” Leaning against the bedroom door frame, she stared blindly at the unmade bed as she explained her idea to him. When she finished, there was silence on the other end of the phone for longer than she would have liked. “Griffin?…No, that’s it, there’s nothing else.”

There was another few seconds of silence before he answered, and once he did, it was Regan’s turn to be struck dumb for a few seconds. He’d actually agreed to it!

They talked over a few of the fine points, then Regan nodded against the phone.

“Okay, then I guess I’ll see you Wednesday.”

A few minutes later when the fog cleared from her mind, she lifted her phone again and sent a group text to Jayne, Ellie, and Maya.

Drinks at my place tonite @ 9

It wasn’t a question, so she wasn’t surprised when no one responded. Next she needed to talk to Carter, but it wasn’t like this was an emergency, so she wouldn’t bother him while he was on shift. Instead, there she was, tapping out another text. Or trying to, anyway.

Her thumbs tripped over themselves as she typed, erased, retyped, deleted, closed, reopened, and typed again.

Can you give me a call when you get a sec?

Good grief—why was that so hard to type?

While she waited for him to call, there were things she needed to do. She arranged for her furniture to be put in storage, took her plants over to Mrs. McLaren, who added Regan’s four to the nineteen million she already had, and then down to Mr. Brandt’s unit to hand in her notice. Griffin might have agreed to her conditions, but it still didn’t make sense to pay for an apartment she’d barely use.

An 866 number called twice, but Regan ignored both calls, as she did when Julia’s number popped up on the display. While she was online setting up cancellation dates for her utilities, two clients called, both of which she happily answered.

She’d eventually call Julia back, just not yet.

Laundry, cleaning, list-making; she did it all while she waited for the one call that never came. Rational Regan shrugged it off without a care. Carter was working, he’d call when he had a break. For all she knew, the entire hospital could be in lockdown trying to deal with an outbreak of the Avian flu. Or smallpox. Or…or that flesh-eating disease.

Girlie Regan didn’t believe that for a second. Carter always called if she asked him to. And if he was busy, he sent a text telling her as much. Maybe it was time she considered the possibility that Rossick was right and she’d only been a one-night stand. Twice.

“You could be a little nicer, though.”

Han Solo,
The Empire Strikes Back

Regan waited until nine fifteen before calling Ellie, sighing when it went to voice mail.

“Hey, Ellie, it’s me. Just wondering if you’re coming over tonight. Maya and Jayne are already here. Call me back.”

“Maybe she got tied up with a customer,” Maya said, sliding up on the stool next to Jayne. “You know how she gets when someone’s having a wardrobe crisis.”

“We can catch her up when she gets here.” Jayne smiled her thanks when Regan handed her a glass of wine. “So what’s up?”

“Okay.” Regan gripped her drink tightly and leaned back against the counter. “I quit my job and I’m going to work for Griffin.”

There was wide-eyed, openmouthed silence for a very long five seconds, then they both broke out in huge watery-eyed grins.

“That’s…that’s great!” Maya cried. “What made you change your mind?”

“A couple things.” Regan sighed softly. “But mainly, it comes back to my mom. You guys were right—I keep waiting and hoping for something that’s not going to happen. I’m never going to have a ‘normal’ relationship with her and it’s time I got past that.”

“That’s not what we meant at all,” Jayne said.

“I know, but it’s the truth. Her costs keep going up, and no matter how many hours I put in running from one appointment to the next, or working at the clinic, I’m just spinning my wheels.”

“I thought it was going okay.” Jayne frowned.

“It is. It was. But it’s getting more expensive to keep her there, so I’m going to need the money. And besides, I really hate working out of someone’s kitchen.”

“But what about the job at the clinic?” Maya asked.

“What?”

Jayne honed in on Regan’s hesitation like a tick on a hound. “What happened?”

“Nothing, it’s just not working out there is all.”

“But you like it there! Jules and Rossick think the world of you—”

“Oooh, I don’t know about that.” Regan sipped her beer slowly as she gave them a very brief, and very vague, explanation of what happened. No matter how angry she was with Rossick, it still wasn’t her place to tell them what she’d walked in on, so she shrugged off most of their questions.

“Anyway,” she said. “I talked to Griffin and it’s all set. I leave Wednesday.”

Another few seconds of wide-eyed, openmouthed silence before Maya finally blinked.

“Wednesday?
This
Wednesday?”

“But—but…” Jayne gaped. “Why so soon?”

“Rehearsals start first thing Monday on his new film, but I told him I couldn’t leave until after Tuesday.”

Maya’s smile saddened, but she blinked past it and lifted her chin like a champ.

“But don’t you have to give notice at the clinic?”

The tight smile Regan forced made them both frown. “I had planned to, but after what Rossick said to me, I couldn’t stay.”

Her ringing phone flashed Ellie’s number.

“Ellie! Where are y—
what
?”

Maya and Jayne leaned closer, pelting her with questions, making it hard to hear Ellie, so she flapped her hand at them until they both shut up.

“Are you okay?…Are you sure?…I don’t care…it’s only a car, Ellie…” While Ellie continued to fret over the state of Regan’s car, Regan turned to Maya and Jayne and mouthed
She’s
okay.
“We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Ending the call, she immediately turned to Jayne, who’d only taken a few sips of her wine. “You’re driving. Ellie’s up at the hospital. Let’s go.”

Strapped into Jayne’s car, Regan repeated everything Ellie had said. “She was stopped at the light where the highway meets Main, waiting to turn left, and when the light changed, a truck came roaring straight through the intersection, crossed into her lane, slammed into her head-on, and then took off.”

“Oh my God.” Maya and Jayne gasped in stereo. “Is she hurt?”

“She says she’s fine, just waiting for one of the doctors to check her over. Sounds like the airbag hit her kind of hard and she’s all freaked out because she was in my car.”

The tow truck was just pulling Regan’s car away when Jayne drove through the intersection and on toward the hospital.

“Holy crap,” Maya breathed against the back passenger window. “The whole front side is caved in. Are you sure she said she was fine?”

“That’s what she said.”

By the time they made it into the hospital, Ellie was in with the doctor, so they had to wait, but small towns being what they are, they didn’t have to wait long.

Andrea Bouwman, or rather Andrea Bouwman-Riker, on her first shift back since her honeymoon, ushered them into the curtained-off area as soon as the doctor left. Dressed in one of those horrible blue hospital gowns, Ellie was sitting up on a gurney looking a little shaky and pale, but otherwise uninjured. After they’d all hugged her, gently, she sighed heavily and immediately turned to Regan.

“I’m so sorry about your car.”

“It’s a freakin’ car, Ellie. Metal and plastic, that’s it.” Regan clicked her tongue. “It’s nothing.”

“I know, but—”

The curtain opened a little wider and Brett Hale stepped in, a notepad in one hand, his black and yellow Mountie hat tucked under his arm. Of all the cops in town, he had to be the poor sap assigned to her case; he who’d written her more speeding tickets than the rest of the detachment combined, and whom she had yet to say anything nice about.

As one, Regan, Maya, and Jayne tried to smother Ellie’s grumbling with cheery greetings, but he wasn’t fooled, and after brief nods at all of them, he inhaled slowly and set his sights on Ellie.

“How are you feeling?”

“Great,” she scoffed. “If I’d known it was this much fun getting slammed by a thousand-pound bag of hydrogen, I’d have done it sooner.”

“It’s not hydr—” He stopped, pursed his lips, and flipped his notepad open. “Can you tell me what happened? And before you start cursing me out, yes, I know you’ve already told Officer Hudak. No, I don’t care, and yes, you still have to tell me, too.”

Regan sucked her lips in behind her teeth to stop from laughing, and when she looked up, Jayne and Maya were doing the same thing.

“Funny,” Ellie groused. She took a minute to rearrange herself on the gurney, covering herself up with blankets, before telling him what happened.

“Did you recognize the truck?”

“No. It was big, older, and dark colored.”

“Make or model?”

“I just told you,” she huffed. “Big, older, and dark colored.”

“Did you see which direction he went?”

“Sorry, I was a little busy peeling my face off the air bag to pay attention to anything else.”

Brett’s mouth tightened for a second. “So that’s a no?”

Jayne jumped in before Ellie could say anything. “Weren’t there any witnesses?”

When Brett didn’t answer, they all looked at Ellie, who shook her head slowly. “There were headlights coming south, but they weren’t anywhere close.”

“They’re the ones who called 911,” Brett said.

“But who’d do this and then just drive off?” Maya frowned. “They must have seen Ellie was hurt.”

“I’m not hurt.”

“Probably a drunk driver or someone who already has outstanding warrants,” Brett said. “There’ll be plenty of damage to the front of his truck, too, so that’ll make it easier to find.”

“Good,” Ellie said. “No need to be wasting time here, then.”

Brett’s expression didn’t so much as twitch. He simply pulled a business card out of his pocket, wrote something on the back, and held it out to Ellie.

“Your file number. The insurance company will need it.” When she didn’t take it, he left it on the blanket next to her knee. “If you think of anything else, you’ll let me know.”

Regan wondered if she was the only one who noticed he phrased that as a statement, not a question. Looked like poor ol’ Brett had had enough of Ellie’s answers for one night.

“She will,” Regan said, following him out to the nurse’s station. “Do you really think it was a drunk driver?”

His unsmiling face stared straight back at her. “It’s possible.”

“But…?”

“But it’s too early to speculate.” He handed Andrea one of the same cards he’d just given Ellie, then turned back to Regan. “Doc says she can go home anytime. Will you make sure she gets there or should I have an officer take her?”

Regan snorted before she realized he was serious. “We’ll get her home, but I’m sure she appreciates your offer.”

“Uh-huh,” he grunted. “I’m sure.”

He started to walk away, then turned and came back. “We’ll do everything we can to find out who did this but it’d be easier if she was a little more cooperative.”

“I know.” She smiled up at him, but his expression never changed. “But she also knows that without a proper description of the truck or the driver, the chances of you finding him are slim and none.”

He set his hat firmly in place and bobbed a short nod at her. “I’ll find him.”

An hour later, they had Ellie tucked up in her own bed with a cup of tea, a freshly warmed heat pack, and her phone. If she wasn’t going to let one of them stay with her, they would be only a quick call away.

“I wonder how long it’ll take the insurance to fix your car,” Jayne mused as they drove back to Regan’s apartment. “Or do you think they’ll just write it off?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Regan laughed. “ ’Cause I won’t be here to drive it anyway.”

“Right. In all the excitement, I sort of forgot about that.”

“We’re going to miss you, Reggie.” Maya reached around from the backseat and nudged Regan’s side until she gave it a squeeze.

“I’m not leaving forever, Maya. We’re going to do it on a trial basis and see how things go. Bottom line, he knows I want my own salon back, and going to work for him is simply a means to an end.”

When they pulled up in front of Regan’s building, she motioned discreetly for Jayne to stay for a second as they said goodbye to Maya and watched her drive off. When she was gone, they climbed back into Jayne’s car and just sat there for a few seconds while Regan worked up her nerve.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Apparently it’s not news to anyone that I’m not really good at asking for favors, and this one’s pretty huge, so I completely understand if you can’t do it.”

“Sounds ominous,” Jayne murmured. “What is it?”

“I want to buy your house.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s going to take me a couple months working with Griffin to get the down payment, so I was wondering if you and Nick would consider holding off listing it for a while.” She inhaled and hurried on, wanting to belch out everything at once. “It’s perfect, Jayne, you helped me see that when you set up the garage the other week. With mortgage rates the way they are, I’d be paying less than what I pay in rent for my apartment, and if I found a roommate, I could easily—”

“I can’t.” Jayne wasn’t a crier, but right there, staring back at Regan, it looked like she was going to. “I’m so sorry, Regan, we already accepted an offer.”

It took a few seconds for the words to sink into her brain.

“From who?”

“We don’t know, the buyer wanted to remain anonymous.”

“Oh.” She knew she was frowning, and knew it was only making the moment more awkward, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “I didn’t know you’d even listed it yet.”

“We hadn’t, but that new realtor next door to Maya’s shop called Nick the other day saying he had a client asking about our place and wondering if we’d consider selling, and since we’ve already started the new house…” She pressed her forehead against the steering wheel and groaned. “We signed the papers this morning.”

Regan couldn’t decide which was worse: feeling like such an ass for even asking, or making Jayne feel like an ass for having to say no. This was why she didn’t drag people into her problems. Ugh.

There was only one way out of this; she’d lie.

“It’s no big deal,” she said, waving her hand casually. “I’ll find another place. I just figured since you were selling anyway…”

“What other place?” Jayne asked. “The only for-sale signs you see these days are sitting outside mobile homes or condos, and even if you found one of those with a closed-in garage, you’d never get past the housing bylaws.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. You know what the real estate market’s like. Today there’s nothing; tomorrow the market’ll be flooded with listings.”

Jayne didn’t look even a little bit convinced, but Regan smiled anyway. “Seriously—it’s fine.”

“If I’d known you were thinking about this, we never would have signed.”

“I know. Thank you.” She wasn’t about to sit there making either of them feel more awkward, so she reached for the door handle and chuckled. “I have one more favor to ask, but this one’s easy. It’s going to be a long day on Wednesday with the stopovers between here and New Orleans, so if you could hook me up with a couple good books…”

“You got it!” Jayne smiled, but it wasn’t entirely real. “Swing by the store tomorrow and I’ll load you up.”

First thing Regan did when she got inside was check her phone for messages. The first was the one Julia left earlier, asking her to please call, then one from an automated service congratulating her on a ten-day cruise she’d just won if she’d just call back with her credit card number to hold the space.

That was it.

He’s just busy, Rational Regan insisted.

Yeah, Girlie Regan moped. Busy avoiding us.

Eighteen hours into his shift, after a hundred and sixty-odd patients and one Norovirus scare disproved, Carter was more than ready for sleep, and he still had six more hours to go. The nurses kept him going with fresh coffee and full plates of cookies, which were much appreciated, but all he wanted was two minutes to call Regan.

He thought he was being the good guy by slipping out in the middle of the night—keeping to her no sleepovers rule—but he’d fully expected to be able to call her before she went to work so he could say hi, to hear her voice, and to find out what she wanted to do about their…situation.

He hoped to be able to convince her to wait until he got home before telling Jules and Rossick anything, that if she was going to do it, it was something they should do together, but he’d been slammed from the second he walked through the doors of St. Mark’s and hadn’t had a chance to even look at his phone until well after midnight.