Authors: Sofia Grey
Lucas sat back and stared at his screen, his mind elsewhere. He’d swapped cell phone numbers and e-mail addresses with Natalie before she hung up, but she’d sounded awkward and stressed. Had he been too gruff? Too bitter about his ex-wife? Or was she just nervous? Despite his refusal to even think about getting involved with anyone, ever again, he was drawn to Natalie. He tried to untangle his feelings, but gave up.
After work, he used his most charming smile on Sarah. “Hey, sis. I need you to program a number into my phone.” She did this on a regular basis, setting up different ringtones for each person that might call. He kept the list small, so he could remember it.
“Sure.” Sarah took the phone and waited.
He handed her a printout from work, of Natalie’s phone number, and heard her tapping it in.
“Name?” she asked.
“Natalie Fontaine.” He was sure she gave a satisfied chuckle, but he ignored that.
More tapping. “Ringtone?”
He’d given it some thought. Something cheerful, a song he liked. “Stereophonics,” he replied firmly. “Dakota.”
“Good choice.” Sarah searched for the ringtone and then applied it to Natalie’s number, while he fussed over Molly. “How do the lyrics go again? Something about ‘The One’?” Her voice was too innocent, and Lucas glared at her.
“Just set it up, please.”
“It’s done.” She slipped the phone back into his palm. “Good luck.” She hugged him before he could grumble at her. “I just want you to be happy.”
Having Natalie’s private number in his phone made her nearer, somehow. More accessible. He could talk to her outside of work hours. His pulse kicked up at the thought.
The old Lucas, the one who could still see properly, would have done that. He’d have called her and chatted easily about movies, the new TV drama everyone was talking about, and good places to go on holiday.
Lucas pondered. He could always bluff his way through a conversation, but when she realized he was making it all up, what would she think of him? Maybe he should just tell her. Come right out with it.
No
. He shied away from that. Natalie was the only person who treated him normally, and the second she knew he was disabled, everything would change. He couldn’t take that risk. He
wouldn’t
.
*
Natalie picked at her fingernails and tried to avoid scratching at the needle in the back of her hand. The damned thing itched worse than any mosquito bite, and she was counting the hours until they removed the drip. Her surgeon had spoken to her as soon as she was awake. The operation had been a success. All she had to do was rest up, take it easy, and let her body heal itself. He wouldn’t speculate on the long-term prognosis.
The private room ensured she wouldn’t be disturbed by other patients, but it made for a lonely week ahead.
Great
. Another pity party, with her as the only attendee. She could, however, check her phone in peace.
She scrolled through her text messages, surprised at how many there were. Eight. Her colleagues at work had learned about her operation and were texting to send good wishes. Their boss, Jeremy, must have told them, and their response was sweet. Nothing from Lucas, but when she checked, she had three new voicemail messages. Her pulse raced as she dialed the messaging service.
“
Bonjour
, Natalie. I just wanted to say good luck today. I’ll be thinking of you.” Lucas sounded cheerful and businesslike in the first message.
“Hey,
comment ca va
? I’m guessing you’ve had the op now, so fingers crossed it all went well. Talk to you soon.” He was reassuring and soothing in the second voicemail, and Natalie felt tears pressing at the back of her eyes. He was so lovely.
“Hey, Natalie.” His voice was gruff the third time, a little rough around the edges. She wondered if he sounded like that when he first woke up. “Thinking of you. Gimme a call when you can.” She hugged the phone to her chest and smiled.
The door rattled open, and one of the nurses backed into the room, her arms filled with flowers. There had to be some mistake. The nurse turned around, a beaming smile lighting up her face. “These just arrived for you. Aren’t they gorgeous?” Lilies, roses, carnations, and many others she couldn’t name all jostled in a riot of color.
“For me?” Her voice squeaked.
“Yes, of course.” The nurse seemed surprised. She settled the flowers into a vase and fiddled with the blooms, arranging them swiftly while Natalie gaped. “Should I leave them here by the window? The perfume is amazing.”
“Yes, it is.” The rich floral scent already filled the room. Stuck for words, Natalie unfolded the tiny card that accompanied the bouquet.
Get better soon. From all of us in the office.
Yes, Jeremy had definitely organized this.
“There’s more.” The nurse interrupted her thoughts.
Natalie looked up, puzzled. “More flowers?”
“Oh, yes. Just wait until you see these.” The nurse left the room and returned a moment later with a huge shiny carrier bag and a delicate arrangement of lavender stems interwoven with tiny yellow roses.
The breath caught in Natalie’s chest.
From Lucas.
She’d told him how much she loved lavender after seeing the endless lavender fields in Provence. With a shaking hand, she took the card and opened it.
Hope this makes you feel better. The lavender should mask the smell of hospital, and the roses will light up your room.
Lucas
In the excitement of the flowers, she forgot about the gift bag. The nurse patted it with her fingertips. “Well? Are you going to open this one?”
Natalie felt a little faint. How could anything top the lavender? She couldn’t have wished for a more perfect gift. She tugged at the ribbon and peered inside. Something soft and fluffy. A teddy bear? She dug her hands into the bag, and eased out the gift. A soft toy, yes, but a golden haired Labrador, sporting a bright-pink collar with a bone-shaped nametag. A nametag that read HOLLY.
The nurse cooed over the toy and fished out a card that lay in the bottom of the bag.
Thought you might like some company. Lucas
Oh Lord, it was official. Natalie was smitten.
Lucas’s cell phone burst to life with the bouncy guitar riff from
Dakota
. Unfortunately, he was in the middle of a lengthy call with a supplier and had to leave the phone to divert to voicemail. He tried to interrupt, but the supplier was in full flow. Helpful Dave was in a flat panic about another shipment he couldn’t fulfil, and Lucas was trying to help by talking to his contacts. There were rumors that Masons would be taking their business elsewhere if their orders weren’t fulfilled more quickly.
As soon as humanly possible, Lucas grabbed his cell, just in time for a voicemail to ping its arrival.
“Lucas”—Natalie’s voice was warmer than ever, her gentle accent even more pronounced—“the flowers and the dog—Holly—are beautiful. Thank you so much. I can tell you that yes, they do make me feel much better.
A bientôt, mon ami.”
He knew that phrase. ‘See you later, my friend’. Lucas relaxed, happy the gifts had arrived.
You may have given her the wrong idea
, murmured the angel on his shoulder.
She’s single, so are you, and she may think there’s more.
He ignored the warning and speed-dialed her number.
She answered straight away. “Lucas.” He loved the way she pronounced his name, the softness to the ‘L’ and with the emphasis on ‘Luc.’ “I just left you a message to say thank you. It was very generous of you.”
“How are you feeling? Did everything go okay?” He still had no idea what was wrong with her or how serious it might be. It nagged at him. She might have something life threatening and not trust him enough to say so.
Like I don’t tell her I’m going blind.
“Yes, I think so.” Her sigh drifted down the line. “The surgeon is pleased, so I guess it was a success. They’ve removed some metal wires and pins from my ankle. It wasn’t a major operation.”
Relief washed over Lucas, and he found himself afloat on a wave of unfamiliar emotions. “I didn’t know. I’m glad it was nothing worse.”
“Thank you. I guess you’re bursting to ask, so I’ll tell you. I was in a bad car accident a few years ago, and my ankle needed to be reconstructed. It’s been giving me a lot of pain recently, and so they decided to remove the hardware, to see if it will heal on its own.”
Lucas absorbed the news. He frowned. Surely not the same accident? He opened his mouth to ask, but she spoke first. “Yes, I was in the car with my parents.”
The hollowness of her voice tore at him. “God, Natalie. I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t know, and it’s nothing that you should be apologizing for.” Maybe not, but he still felt bad. “So anyway,” she continued, “if you have a couple of minutes, you can tell me where to buy…
Wait a moment
.” He heard a door closing in the background and the murmur of voices. Natalie was greeting somebody.
“I’m sorry. I have to go. I have a visitor.” Her voice was happy and bright again.
“Sure. Catch you tomorrow, maybe?”
“That would be good. Bye.”
She obviously couldn’t wait to get off the phone. Whoever her visitor was, she was pleased to see them. Lucas shrugged and tried to focus on tying up his last activities of the day. It was time to go home, walk Molly, and hit the gym.
For some reason, he had more energy than usual today, and he spent longer on his weights and sit-ups. After an extra half hour, he still hadn’t burned it off, and only quit because he was sweating like a pig and his hands were slipping on the equipment. He kept wondering about Natalie’s visitor. Of course she had friends. Probably lots of them. She wouldn’t be a virtual recluse. Not like him.
*
The next few days in the hospital sped by for Natalie. Deema came to visit every day, and her boss called in for a few minutes. Natalie was touched by their concern. Deema would sit on the edge of the bed and tempt her to eat all manner of Indian delicacies, completely unfamiliar to her, and then tell her all the gossip from the office. Natalie loved to hear about Deema’s family, her lecturer husband and three bright-eyed children, but it was Lucas who made the hours fly. His French improved with every day that passed, and Natalie wondered again if that was the only reason he wanted her.
She was finally almost ready to go home and would be released in the morning. She needed two weeks of complete rest before she started to exercise her damaged ankle, but she’d be recovering in her own home, away from doctors and nurses constantly interrupting her, and she’d not feel so self-conscious talking to Lucas. They’d only spoken once today, and Natalie guessed he had to be busy at work.
He sent an e-mail late in the afternoon.
Hey, Natalie. I’m going to have to leave the lessons for a while. I’m due on a training course and won’t have much free time. Hope you’re okay. Catch you later. Lucas
She read the scant few lines again, as though a different message would appear. He hadn’t mentioned her going home, even though he knew she was excited about it. Maybe she’d been reading too much into their chats. She hovered her fingers over the touchscreen of her phone. How to reply without sounding disappointed?
No problem. Enjoy the course. Natalie
The rest of the afternoon dragged. Her bag was packed and ready. Her street clothes hung within arm’s length, and a new set of crutches leaned against the wall. Lucas’s e-mail nagged at her. Training courses were never arranged at such short notice. Either he’d known about it for a while and had neglected to mention it, or he was busy with something else.
He’s bored with talking to me. I’m too clingy.
She hugged the toy dog, and took a deep breath. She had to get a grip. He was a colleague. Nothing more. Even though she might like to daydream, he would never want her. Hot on the heels of self-doubt came a new worry. What if he’d been talking to one of her colleagues? What if he knew about her scars? Was that why he suddenly didn’t want to talk?
Natalie rolled over in bed, wrapped Holly in her arms, and squeezed tight. She tried to push away the memories of her ex. She’d been in love with Phil, and they were about to move in together, when she was in the accident. It not only robbed Natalie of her parents, it also took her old life away forever. There had been months in and out of the hospital, reconstructive surgery, skin grafts, emergency operations. She’d died on the operating table and had her chest ripped open when they resuscitated her. She’d had drips and IV’s, catheters and braces. Name any medical procedure, and Natalie would bet she’d undergone it.
Phil had been great at first. Of course it made sense to put off buying a house. She totally understood. What didn’t make sense was how he stopped loving her. How he was so repulsed by her body, he couldn’t imagine having sex with her again. After everything she’d been through, that had been the final straw. She’d packed up her home, her job, and what was left of her life and moved away from Wellington, to settle in Auckland.
It had taken three years to rebuild her composure, but in just one afternoon, Lucas threatened to rip it apart.