Dreams of Perfection (Dreams Come True) (12 page)

Chapter 22

Darcy’s opportunity presented itself sooner than she’d expected when her doorbell rang Sunday morning. She gathered her robe around her and padded in her bare feet to the door, opening it to find Josh standing with two cups from the coffee shop around the corner, a determined expression on his face. He looked like hell. Before she could light into him, he held out the cup like a peace offering.

“I’m sorry.”

His abrupt apology momentarily disarmed her. Then her anger flared again when she realized his unexpected remorse had robbed her of the chance to express her righteous anger over his inexcusable behavior.

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?” She stood with her arm on the door, blocking his entrance to her house, one eyebrow lifted in disdain.

“Well, that and a chai tea, just the way you like it.” Nothing. “Look, Darcy, can I come in?” When she didn’t move, Josh continued. “I said I was sorry.” Still nothing. “I was rude and out of line.” Darcy’s foot started tapping. “Okay, I was an asshole.”

Darcy gr
abbed the tea, held the door open for Josh to enter, and he followed her into the kitchen where she’d been making tea. When she saw him glance around, she said, “He’s not here.”

Josh relaxed. 

“Which is too bad, since he’s the one you should be apologizing to.”

“I know. You’re right.” Josh scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I’ll apologize next time I see him. Where is he by the way?”

“He’s in Timbuktu.”

Josh snorted. “No, really.”

“Yes, really. After we got back last night, an international medical charity called about a man who’d been mauled by a lion and needed an amputation immediately.” She leaned against the counter sipping her peace offering. She had been keenly disappointed since things had been heating up and she’d planned to ask him to stay the night. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to know where Blake is?”

“Because I wanted to apologize.” Josh leaned against the opposite countertop and toyed with his coffee cup. “Why else?”

Darcy narrowed her eyes. “Right.”

“So, since you’re a free woman for the day, want to hang out? It’s a nice day. We could walk to Dumbo.”

“I don’t know, Josh, I’m behind on my word count.” The look of disappointment on his face had her backtracking. “But how about I meet you at the batting cage on Third later and then we can grab dinner after.”

“Sure.” He pushed off the counter and, leaning down, kissed her temple. “Again, Darce, I’m really sorry. See you later.” He turned and let himself out.

Josh
was
sorry, but
primarily because he’d hurt Darcy. Damn, she’d looked so sexy standing there in her skimpy robe and bare feet, hair pulled back in some messy knot, no makeup. The relief he’d felt when he’d learned Blake hadn’t spent the night was overwhelming, as if he’d been in an underwater cave and had just come up for air.

He paused on her stoop, unable to bear the thought of going back to his quiet apartment. He’d spent too much time there last night worrying about how badly he’d screwed up with Darcy as a result of his alcohol-fortified interrogation of Blake.

To distract himself, he’d done a little research on Blake via Google, not expecting to turn up anything more than the people-finder agency. But he did come across various articles on his surgical skills and charitable endeavors. He’d performed life-saving surgeries all over the globe, everything from amputations, like Darcy had just mentioned, to
saving
limbs from amputation. If you could believe what they said online, Blake Garrett was some kind of medical saint. And a rich one at that, thinking about the flight to Maine. Yet, his sudden appearance in Darcy’s life defied explanation.

Sighing, he shoved his hands in his pockets, turned right, and headed for Prospect Park. Maybe he could pick up a chess match or two. The intellectual exercise would take his mind off Darcy and Blake. If only for a little while.

Bright and early Monday morning
, a little too early by Darcy’s standards, she woke up with a horrific toothache in an area where there was no tooth. After getting in to see her dentist, she learned she had not one, but two, impacted wisdom teeth that had to come out ASAP.

According to Dr. Jameson, it was a miracle she’d gone this long without a problem. He’d managed to get her in with an oral surgeon who worked her into his schedule the next morning.

“Now, Ms. Butler, since you’re having general anesthesia,” the surgeon’s nurse explained, “you’ll need someone to drive you home after the surgery and stay with you at least for the night. Do you have someone who can help you?”

Darcy ran through her list of friends and family. Her parents were in San Francisco where her mother was speaking at a Jane Austen conference. And, of course, Blake was still in Timbuktu. She’d call Anne or Brandon. One of them would take care of her, they always did.

“Oh, um, yes, I can get someone.” A true needle-phobic, Darcy dreaded this surgery like a man dreaded a vasectomy.

“Okay, dear. We’ll see you at eight a.m. Don’t forget, nothing to eat or drink after midnight.”

Right.
No worries there, since her jaw throbbed like she’d just taken a right hook. The nurse handed her the paperwork, and asked where she could call in the prescription for pain medicine.

Drowning in self-pity, Darcy walked out of the office and hailed a taxi, wishing desperately that Blake were in town. He’d know exactly how to take care of her.

She called Anne from her cell.

Anne answered with an exhausted sounding, “Hello.”

“Hi, Anne. Listen, I have to have my wisdom teeth out tomorrow. Can you come take care of me?”

“Sorry, but Olivia’s got the stomach flu. There’s no way I can leave her.”

Darcy fought back the selfish disappointment. “I’m sorry. Will Olivia be all right?”

“She’ll be fine. Just one of those joys of childhood. You going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Darcy heard Olivia’s feeble voice in the background. “Thanks, and kiss Olivia for me.” Sighing, Darcy hit ‘end’ and dialed Brandon.

“Hey, Darce! How’s my favorite baby sister?”

“Well, I’ve got to have my wisdom teeth out tomorrow. Any chance you could play nurse for a day?”

“Sorry, sis. I’m in Toronto for an engineering conference. Won’t be back until early next week.”

Darcy winced. If she had to choose between an engineering conference and oral surgery, she just might go with the oral surgery. “Sounds like fun.”

“You know it. What about Anne?”

“Olivia’s sick.”

“Oh. Call Laura then. I gotta run. The session on amorphous metals is starting. Love you, sis.”

Great. Just great.
There was
no way
she was calling Gloria. She’d try Laura, even though she had more in common with Nurse Ratched than Florence Nightingale.

“
Guten morgen
,
Freundin
. What’s up?”

Jake must have run his course, but Darcy didn’t have the energy to ask about
l’amour du jour
.

Darcy got right to the point. “Laura, I’ve got to have my wisdom teeth cut out tomorrow.” She cringed at that visual. “And I need someone to bring me home and stay with me. Are you available?”

“Oh . . . well—blood, needles—not really my thing,” she muttered on the other end of the line. “But for you, girlfriend, I’d do it. Problem is, my team is pitching an ad campaign to a pet food conglomerate tomorrow and I can’t get away. What about your parents or Anne?”

Darcy explained the circumstances.

“Why don’t you call Josh? He’ll do it I’m sure, being the
Good Samaritan
and all,” Laura said, her sarcastic emphasis crystal clear.

Darcy sighed. “All right. Thanks, anyway. Good luck tomorrow.”

“Thanks. Good luck to you, too. I’ll come by after work and check on you. Bring you a little something to cheer you up.”

Darcy hung up, dropping her phone dejectedly in her lap. This is what boyfriends were for. She’d been completely and utterly abandoned. Grumbling about brilliant surgeons, jet-setting family members, stomach bugs, and pet food, she paid the cab driver, picked up her mail by the door, and let herself in. First stop, the freezer for an ice pack. Flinching as she placed the pack against her jaw, she dialed Josh at work.

“Hey, Sunshine.”

“Not so much. More like cloudy with a chance of doom and gloom.”

“What’s wrong, and why do you sound like you have a mouthful of marbles?”

“Oh, Josh.” Darcy teared up then began babbling about how her jaw felt like she’d just lost a bar fight to some guy named Guido, that she had to have surgery tomorrow, and that she was all alone.

“Oh, baby, sounds like you’ve had a rough day. Want me to come by after work?”

“Yes,” she whined. “But I also need you to take me tomorrow and bring me home.”

Josh quickly glanced at his calendar. “Done.”

“And to stay with me tomorrow night.” This last request was met with silence. “Josh?”

“Okay.” Josh hesitated. “I can do that.”

“Listen, if you have plans, it’s really no problem.”
Please don’t have plans.

“No. You can’t stay alone. I’ll stay with you.”

“Thanks, Josh. I really appreciate it.”

Chapter 23

Josh hung up the phone and rechecked his calendar for Tuesday and Wednesday. A conference call, and a meeting with one of the junior associates tomorrow to discuss a brief due in two weeks, nothing that couldn’t wait another day. Wednesday morning he had an appointment with Kelly, but with some juggling he might be able to see her in the afternoon if Darcy felt self-sufficient by then.

He’d always wanted to hear Darcy ask him to stay with her, or words similar to that effect, just not under these particular circumstances.

Unsettled, he stood up from his desk and walked over to his window, looking out over the Hudson River. He’d had a clear view of the Miracle on the Hudson when Captain Sully brought his Airbus A320 in for an emergency water landing. Little work got done that morning at the firm, with everyone crowded into the offices with river views, watching the human drama unfold in the icy river, and praying for the passengers, crew, and rescuers. 

In a couple more months he’d be moving to a bigger office, a partner’s office, one floor up. He only hoped it, too, had a view of the Hudson. Now that he had the goal in his sights, it didn’t hold the same appeal. He sure hoped he wasn’t turning into one those people who only wanted what they couldn’t have, and when they finally had it, didn’t want it anymore.

Would that be the result, he wondered, if Darcy ever reciprocated his feelings for her? Once he had her, would he still want her? Or was his unwavering desire for her simply the product of his unrequited love?

He picked up the case he’d been reading when Darcy had called. If he was going to be out tomorrow, he’d better get a head start on it today.

Missing a day at the office wasn’t the problem. He could get some work done at her place.
Her place
. That was the problem. Being around Darcy and hiding the truth was getting more and more difficult, especially now that Blake was in the picture. It seemed he was always fulfilling boyfriend obligations without the boyfriend benefits, he groused.

When she was going through first dates like the Yankees go through baseballs, he could sit back and be the one waiting in the wings. But now, Darcy’s clock didn’t seem to be the only one ticking like a time bomb. At some point, he had to decide whether to allow Darcy to walk away forever or risk their friendship by telling her his feelings for her. Either way, he could lose her.

Josh let hims
elf into Darcy’s house early the next morning. “Where’s the patient?” he called.

“She’s in here,” came the frail reply from the living room.

He walked in to see Darcy sitting on the sofa, an ice pack to her cheek. “My poor Darcy. You ready?”

“About as a ready as a cow going to slaughter,” she replied glumly.

“Look at the bright side.” He helped her up. “At least after you’ve healed, your mouth won’t hurt anymore. Right?”

“I’m in no mood to look at the bright side.”

Josh chuckled.

They stepped outside and while Josh went to lock up, Darcy stepped to the curb.

“We don’t need a cab,” Josh told Darcy. “I borrowed Martin’s car.” He pointed to a blue Prius parked at the curb. “I didn’t think you’d want to do the whole New York cab ride after your surgery.”

“Bless you,” she said, the relief apparent on her face. “I’d kiss you but it hurts too much to pucker up.”

He helped Darcy into the car and walked around to the driver’s side. Folding his long frame into the compact space, he glanced over at her. She sat, her head against the headrest, her eyes closed, a frown creasing her brow. He reached over and, squeezing her hand, said, “You’ll be fine. And if not, don’t worry, I’ll sue the pants off ‘em.”

She didn’t bother to open her eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

Josh juggled a very woozy Darc
y, a small bag of medical supplies and post-op instructions, and Darcy’s purse as he steered her toward her front steps. After a few miscues, he managed to get her to the door. The surgeon had said everything went well and that in a few days she should be good as new. The stitches would dissolve on their own, and she could begin eating normally as tolerated.

Right now Josh’s only concern was getting her in the house without her falling on her face. He leaned her up against the doorjamb while he unlocked the door, then caught her just as she slid sideways.

“Whoops-a-daisy,” Darcy slurred, with an inebriated smile, cotton packing peeking out of the corners of her mouth in a way she would find utterly humiliating if she had her faculties.

“Okay.” Josh abandoned her purse and the bag by the door, and scooped Darcy up in his arms.

“Wheee!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and cradled her head against him.

The light floral scent of her shampoo drifted to his nose and he closed his eyes briefly against its subtle attack on his senses. Her trim body, even smaller after a couple of days on a liquid diet, pressed against his chest, her waist so small he could practically wrap his hands around it.

He carried her to the sofa and carefully set her down on it, but she didn’t release him. “Joth, you thmell thoooo good,” she said, doing a fair imitation of her niece, Sam.

“Um, thanks.” He gently tried to pry her hands from around his neck. Finally succeeding, he set them in her lap. “Okay. Wait here. Don’t move.” He held up his hands. “I’ll be right back.”

He darted back to the stoop to collect her things and close the door. When he walked back into the living room, Darcy still sat, hands in her lap, her eyes closed. He stepped out of the living room and glanced up her staircase. There was no way he was going to get her up the stairs in her present condition.

He took the stairs two at a time and, striding into her bedroom, snagged a pillow off her bed. As he left the room, he noticed a photo of him at his law school graduation, still wearing his cap and gown, and holding up a bottle of champagne. He never knew she’d framed that picture.

He hadn’t been in her bedroom since he and some of the guys had helped her move in almost five years ago. Seeing the photo in her bedroom gave him pause, but sooner or later it would no doubt be replaced by one of her and Blake.

Running back into the living room, he put the pillow at one end of the sofa and eased her back, careful to prop her up like the doctor said, before lifting her legs and stretching them out. He grabbed a throw off the window seat in the bay window and covered her with it.

Darcy snuggled into the pillow and pulled the blanket up to her chin. “I wuv you, Joth.” And she was out.

If only she meant those words the way he wanted her to. That one statement—four little words—socked him in the gut, leaving him breathless, not unlike the time Billy Maloney had head-butted him in the belly in football practice. The difference was, he’d recovered from Billy’s blow.

Darcy woke up, a little disoriented, wond
ering why it felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to her mouth. Moaning, she tried to sit up.

“Shh. Lie back.”

She felt a hand stroking her hair and, opening her eyes, looked up into Josh’s warm brown ones.

“How do you feel?”

“Like hell,” was all she managed to get out. Her mouth resembled the Sahara and tasted like she’d been sucking on nickels. She shifted a little, and realized she was lying with her head on a pillow in Josh’s lap. Some dim memory of Josh carrying her prodded at her aching head.

“Did I do anything . . . strange?”

Josh considered a moment. “No. Unless you count running out your front door naked.”

“That would only be strange if it were the middle of winter.”

“Then no, you didn’t do anything strange.” 

“Good. How long have I been asleep?” Her words slurred around the cotton in her mouth.

“A few hours.”

She closed her eyes again.

“Do you think you could eat something? I’m not worth much in the kitchen, but nuking a can of soup isn’t too far beyond my limited capabilities. I saw some chicken noodle in your cupboard.”

“Okay. Sure.”

He helped her sit up and then propped her up against the back of the couch. “One bowl of chicken noodle coming up. And how about some hot tea?”

“Good.” She moaned as the jackhammer picked up the pace.

“And I’m sure you could use a Percocet.”

A few minutes later Josh came in carrying a tray, which he placed on the coffee table. 

Darcy tried to stand, but a wave of dizziness overtook her.

“Whoa. Where do you think you’re going?” Josh steadied her.

“Bathroom.”

“Well, hang on.” He held out his hands indicating he would help her up.

She hesitated. “You’re not going with me.”

“I am, at least to the door.”

“God, this is so embarrassing.” She groaned as she stood.

Josh wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her to the powder bath tucked underneath the stairs.

“Now go away,” Darcy croaked.

“Hey, did anyone ever tell you, you do a pretty good impression of the Godfather? Come on, make me an offer I can’t refuse.” He egged her on by waving his hands toward his face.

If she’d had the strength, she’d have slapped that grin right off.

Instead, she slammed the door in his face.