SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (126 page)

The elevator doors opened, they both stepped inside and Josie, according to her name tag, pressed the button for the fourth floor.

“What floor?” Josie asked, finger poised to press another button.

“Same. Thanks,” Hilly answered.

When the doors opened, Hilly exited first, and Josie followed right behind her. Hilly briskly walked the long hallway thinking Josie would surely stop at one of the many rooms along the way, but when she didn’t Hilly began to wonder where she was actually headed.

When Hilly arrived at Dillon’s room Josie stopped right behind her, and as Hilly began to walk inside, she realized some of those flowers, bears and balloons were in fact for Dillon.

A mistake, she was sure.

“Excuse me,” Hilly said to Josie as she grabbed a teddy bear and the balloons. “You must have the wrong room number or maybe all of this was for the last patient who occupied this room. It certainly can’t be for Dillon Spencer.”

Josie checked her clipboard. “Nope, no mistake. My entire cart is for Mr. Spencer. This is my second trip up here.”

Hilly smiled, thinking this woman must be delusional. “This is Dillon Spencer’s room. The man lives in complete isolation, and has no friends, at least none that I’m aware of. It’s impossible for all of this to be his.”

“Then you must not know him very well, ‘cause I’ve got another load downstairs. Can’t put everything in his room at one time. Against the rules. Maybe you could take some of it home?”

Josie walked past Hilly, carrying a teddy bear and the balloons in one hand, and an overflowing vase of silk flowers in the other. Hilly followed her inside and abruptly stopped as she gazed around the now colorful room.

Large posters of Colorado’s great outdoors lined any free wall space; a patchwork quilt replaced the hospital-issued blanket that had covered Dillon the previous night, pastel colored balloons swayed on the ends of ribbons attached to chairs and drawer knobs. Teddy bears of all sizes and shapes, along with rich bouquets of silk flowers sat on every flat surface.

“He certainly has a lot of people who love him,” Josie said as she carried in the contents of the cart. “Normally we can’t bring all this stuff into Critical Care, but his doctor made the exception. I heard there were several people who wanted to get up here to visit him this morning, but weren’t allowed in ‘cause their names weren’t on the list. Too bad. In his condition, it might help to hear some familiar voices.”

She gazed over at Dillon, concern showing on her face.

Hilly stood rock still, trying to digest all this information. The curt and demanding man Hilly worked for, fretted over, had wanted to walk away from countless times, this was the same man who had been kind enough to an entire group of people who thought enough of him to send teddy bears and flowers?

Teddy bears to Dillon Spencer? It simply wasn’t possible.

The crazy dream popped into her head: Dillon sitting on the chair next to the tub, looking all handsome and smiling down at her as if he liked what he saw, as if they were intimate, as if they were lovers. The memory of him combined with all the affection that now surrounded him caused her eyes to water.

The Dillon Spencer she knew rarely smiled. Truth be told, she could probably count on one hand the times she’d seen him grin for any reason. She simply didn’t understand any of this, and she especially didn’t understand how after what happened last night, Dillon could still lie motionless in his hospital bed. Somehow she thought he’d be sitting up in his bed, issuing demands.

Josie gently rubbed Hilly’s shoulder for a moment. “I’m so sorry. He must be a wonderful husband.”

Hilly emerged from her trance, blinking away the tears. “Me? Him? No. I’m his assistant. I work for him.”

Josie nodded. “Oh, I just assumed . . . ”

“He’s not married.”

“Wow, a guy like him, still single? Why? Is he a confirmed bachelor?”

“He’s engaged.”

“But she’s not here. You are.”

“I’m sure she’s on her way.”

“Where’s she coming from? The other side of the planet?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Whatever, until she gets here, you’ve still got a chance.” She nudged Hilly. “When he comes out of this, you should go for it. From what I hear, he’s the catch of the county.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Hilly told her, as if going for Dillon Spencer was even a consideration. At least it hadn’t been up until that moment. She’d never given dating Dillon any serious thought, but something happened last night after she’d clasped that silver chain around his neck . . . that spark. Ever since then . . . she couldn’t explain it, but she felt differently towards him.

The Dillon in her dream had been right. She had felt a fondness for him, a deep, resounding affection.

No, she told herself. You will not fall for this man, especially not now when his outcome was unknown. She always seemed to fall for guys who were completely unattainable, and at the moment Dillon Spencer more than aptly fit the description.

She refused to allow her emotions to overtake her reason. Not only was he in a coma, but if he ever came out of it, he’d go right back to being his usual arrogant self. She felt sure of it.

“I call ’em like I see ’em,” Josie said as she plunked down a massive bouquet of red silk roses.

Hilly remained stoic.

She thought about Frank and wondered if somehow this was all his doing? Perhaps he had paid a company to provide colorful accessories to demonstrate to the hospital staff how much his son was loved.

Frank never missed an opportunity to advertise the compassion of the law firm.

“So, these visitors, were they from California mostly?”

“From what I heard, they were all local.”

That wasn’t like Frank. He would fly in high-profile visitors from California. It made for better copy. “Local? But Mr. Spencer is from Los Angeles.”

“Didn’t you see the local paper this morning? He’s the headline. According to what I’ve read, he’s like some kind of benefactor to the people of this town, especially to the employees of the Hotel Colorado. I’ve got a few copies of the paper on my cart. Would you like one?”

Hilly flashed on the newspapers on the tray outside the Molly Brown room that morning and how she hadn’t bothered to even read a headline.

“Sure.” Hilly had to see this for herself. She watched Josie as she stepped out of the room and returned with the Post Independent. She handed it to Hilly, then abruptly left, wishing Hilly a nice day.

Still holding onto her tiny bouquet of white silk daises, Hilly finally turned to face Dillon, and there, sitting on a chair on the far side of his bed, intently studying his face, was a slip of an older woman dressed in a white wool coat, white slacks, a trendy white knit cap and white gloves.

Hilly hadn’t noticed her before, hadn’t seen her come in, but there she was quietly singing in a clear voice,
“
Just Molly and she, and baby makes three, they’re happy in my blue heaven.”

A Shadow at Twilight: Chapter Five

Hilly and Margarita Green sat in the Family Room just outside of the Critical Care Unit. A bouquet of mixed real flowers sat on the coffee table in front of them and a fireplace burned bright across from the two women as they chatted, sitting side-by-side on a luxurious tan-colored leather sofa. Hilly thought it odd that Margarita never took off her hat and coat, but then she was such a tiny little lady that perhaps she was simply cold, despite the roaring fire.

They were alone in the room and their voices echoed off the walls.

“Dillon’s the best grandson I could ever ask for. He’s kind, generous to a fault, and so very loving. He would do anything for a friend, and treats me just like a queen. That boy had my heart from the moment I first saw him wrapped in a tiny blue blanket in his mother’s arms. It only took one look, one smile and I was smitten.”

Margarita seemed animated and happy despite Dillon’s dire condition which caused Hilly to wonder if the woman was taking some sort of antidepressant.

“He’s a little different in the office,” Hilly said as she gazed out the windows at the snowcapped mountains. For a brief moment, her thoughts drifted to Sarah, wondering if she was having a good time with Jimmy or was it Jason. She still couldn’t remember his name.

She let out a little sigh.

“That’s all for show, honey,” Margarita said. “My Dillon acts that way to please his father. Frank knows it, and uses it to his advantage. Dillon won’t ever disrespect his father, the old coot.”

In all the years Hilly had been at the law firm, Frank Spencer had never been referred to as an “old coot.” She rather liked it.

“I had that impression as soon as I started working there.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Too many years to admit.”

“Then you should know him pretty well by now. Is he still a pompous ass?”

Hilly detected a deep bitterness in her voice. Although Margarita was obviously well into her golden years, she seemed as feisty as a kitten determined to grab its own tail.

“He can be a bit challenging at times.”

“Oh, get real, honey, he was a pompous ass when I knew him, and he’s probably only ripened with age.”

Hilly felt uncomfortable dissing Frank so openly. She glanced over her shoulder to the open doorway to see if he was anywhere around. It was now well after three in the afternoon, and Frank still hadn’t officially shown up, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t lurking somewhere close. Frank prided himself on sneaking up on people when they least expected it.

“He’s not here,” Margarita said. “The old coot won’t come anywhere near this hospital as long as Dillon’s in the shape he’s in. Frank’s got a real fear of death. Always did. Thinks if he gets too close, it might jump up and grab him.”

Hilly smiled. Obviously Margarita didn’t know Frank as well as she thought she did. “He told me he would be here today, and I’m confident he’ll arrive any minute.”

“Don’t hold your breath, sweetheart. He didn’t show up when his own wife was dying, so why should he now?”

Hilly wanted her to elaborate. “I can’t believe that.”

“It’s the truth. He made sure she had access to the best doctors in the country, hired twenty-four hour care for her and kept her comfortable at all times. He made it seem as though he was the best husband any girl could hope for during such a trying time. Then about six months into her battle with breast cancer, when it didn’t look as if she would win, he told her he was sorry but he couldn’t be around her anymore. That he loved her too much to watch her go through all that pain and suffering. And he moved out.”

Emotion welled up in Hilly as she tried to absorb what Margarita had said. For a moment, she couldn’t speak, and then when she finally regained her composure, anger took over. “That’s not possible. No one would do that to the person they love. Not when that person is so vulnerable.”

“You left out a modifier there, sweetie. No
compassionate
person would do that. No one with even a smidgeon of empathy or concern could even think of walking out on the person they loved. Frank has none of those human traits. He operates from a different plane. I don’t know what that plane is exactly, but I’m in a place right now where I think I can find out.”

Hilly figured she was referring to her age.

“But Dillon’s his son. His only child.”

Margarita chuckled. “The only thing Frank cares about is winning his next case. He doesn’t care one lick for family. If Dillon passes on, and I pray he doesn’t, then Frank will show up all teary eyed and full of himself for the funeral. But not while Dillon’s fighting for his life.”

Hilly’s phone rang. “Excuse me,” she told Margarita, stood and took the call. It was Frank’s assistant, Phil Miller, a terse man in his mid-twenties, posturing himself to be just like Frank. She was the only person in the office who knew that Phil, although engaged to Frank’s niece, a snooty woman who never acknowledged Hilly’s existence, had a propensity for women of the pay-on-demand variety.

“Hello,” Hilly said, trying to act nonchalant about the call, knowing that a call from Phil could only mean one thing: Frank wasn’t coming.

“Mr. Spencer,
Senior
,” he emphasized, “has been detained and won’t be able to make it in today. He expects you to guarantee all the necessary arrangements have been made should Dillon succumb to what the doctors are saying is inevitable. If Dillon should pull through today, but shows no improvement, Mr. Spencer will keep in touch with you, but sees no benefit in flying to Colorado while his son is unconscious. He feels he can better serve his son by remaining in Los Angeles tending to their clients.

“In the meantime, Mr. Spencer,
Senior
is in close contact with the doctors and has been updated on Dillon Spencer’s condition. If you have any questions for Mr. Spencer, I can forward them to him and he will make every attempt to get the answer back to you in a timely manner.” He paused then asked, “So, do you?”

Anger and complete contempt for not only Frank the Tank but for his smarmy assistant, Phil, soured Hilly’s ability to maintain a friendly disposition.

“Do I what?”

“Have any questions for Mr. Spencer,
Senior?”

Hilly thought about it for a moment. “Yes, ask the cold-hearted asshole how the hell he sleeps at night?”

Then she promptly disconnected and turned back to Margarita.

Margarita shot Hilly a knowing smile, her eyes saying everything Hilly was feeling. “Frank?”

Hilly shook with anger. “His assistant.”

“And?”

Hilly plopped down on the sofa, her body still tense from the phone call. “You were right. He’s not coming. I can’t believe it. How can he ignore his own son at a time like this? I mean, I knew Frank was ruthless when it came to winning a case, always going for the jugular, but to turn his back on his own son? That takes a kind of objective detachment I can’t understand.”

“Oh honey, you’re too sweet. Don’t you know there are evil people in this world? Frank Spencer happens to be one of them.”

Hilly let out a sigh. “I’m stunned.”

“I overheard your last comment. Frank’s not going to like what you said about him. The devil doesn’t always like to be called out for what he is.”