He flinched, his skin paling. “Not pawn it, just use it as collateral. It’s totally different.”
Emma shot up from the chair, cheeks burning and fists clenched. “Todd Alexander Ness, what is wrong with you? That is our father’s watch, passed down in our family from generation to generation. It’s not a poker chip, it’s not a down payment on a damn dune buggy race. It was
daddy’s
!”
Todd recoiled, mouth tightening, green eyes dark with hurt. “I know that, Emma.”
“Clearly not,” she fumed, “or you wouldn’t be planning to risk it again before we’ve even gotten it back.”
“Well I can’t do it now, anyway, so you can stop acting so mad.” He wiped a hand over his upper lip. Emma opened her mouth to retort, but paused to frown. Todd’s hand trembled a little, and beads of sweat stood out on his forehead and lip. Her reprimand died on her tongue.
“Are you feeling okay?” she asked instead.
“A little dizzy and nauseous, actually.” His eyelids fluttered and Emma’s heart thumped in her chest. She sprinted to the door and stuck her head into the hall, thankful to spot the colorful scrubs of a nurse.
“Nurse! Please come here. I think there’s something wrong with my brother!”
The nurse was an older woman with dyed black hair and a kind, seamed face. “What’s the matter, hon?”
Emma ushered her into the room, where Todd had begun to breathe in shallow gulps. He was sweating more profusely, and his skin had turned ashy. Emma rushed to her brother’s side, clasping one of his hands in both of hers. The nurse picked up his chart and scowled at it before glancing up at the monitor near Todd’s head. Emma could see that his heart rate was elevated.
The older woman curtly ordered Todd to lay back, folded back the sheet, and began to press lightly along his abdomen. Emma bit her lip, chewing it as she watched the nurse work. Todd hissed as the nurse’s fingers reached just below his ribs. He squeezed Emma’s hand tightly.
“What is it?” Emma whispered.
The nurse covered Todd’s belly once more, yanking the blood pressure machine closer and wrapping the cuff around his upper arm. “Could be his spleen,” she replied shortly. She pressed some buttons and the blood pressure machine hummed to life. She also leaned over and pressed Todd’s call button. Emma felt her own stomach do a lazy roll.
“Is he going to be okay?”
“Don’t worry, sweetie,” the nurse said. But her terse tone was not at all comforting.
Todd squeezed her hand again. “I’ll be fine, Ems. Promise.”
“You better be. I’m not done yelling at you.” Tears pricked her eyes.
He smiled. “So, does this mean you’re finally on board with the plan?”
Another nurse entered the room. She didn’t even have a chance to speak before the older nurse sent her to chase down Todd’s doctor. Emma tried to bite back the sob that was clogging the back of her throat.
“I’ve been on board for weeks.”
His eyelids fluttered briefly again, as if he was fighting to stay conscious, but then he chuckled. “Not really. You don’t fool me, Emmaceratops.”
“I do too,” she said softly.
He shook his head. The doctor came in and conferred with the nurse. Emma felt a little comforted by the doctor’s smile and her low, firm voice.
“Let’s see what we’ve got here.” The doctor lifted the sheet to prod at Todd’s abdomen herself. Again, he winced when she reached a certain point. The doctor withdrew her hands and folded down his shirt. “Okay then, Mr. Ness, it seems like you might have a small splenic rupture. That can happen when you crash a dune buggy. I’m going to have Arlene here take you to get an ultrasound to confirm, and then we’ll see what we can do about getting it removed, hmm?”
“Is that. . . .” Emma had to stop and swallow the lump in her throat. “Is that dangerous?”
The doctor nodded, but she kept smiling. “It can be, in the case of a massive rupture. However, Mr. Ness’ blood pressure hasn’t dropped at all, so this appears to be a small one. Once we’ve confirmed that, we have a couple of options for treatment. I wouldn’t worry if I were you.”
The doctor patted Todd’s arm and left. Emma continued to worry. She would probably stay worried until she could take her brother home. Maybe even for a few weeks after that.
Especially if he rode another dune buggy
, she thought with a scowl.
Todd tugged on her hand. “I’ll be okay, Ems. Just . . . promise me you’re really on board with the plan. You’re not going to keep pretending you are while you cook up something else behind my back, are you?”
She actually chuckled a little through the sting of tears. “T-rex, are you using this vulnerable moment to compel my agreement?”
“Whatever works,” he said, his grin a little wobbly but there nonetheless.
“Do you promise me you’ll drop the stupid dune buggy racing idea?” she asked in return.
He nodded. “Promise.”
Emma stared down at the pale, sweaty face of her baby brother. She stroked the damp hair off his forehead, the way she had so many times when he was little, whenever he was feverish or afraid. He drove her crazy on many occasions and tried her patience to no end, but she loved him and would do anything for him.
Anything
.
Including, she thought with a sigh, dressing up in costume and sneaking into a masquerade ball she’d planned in order to steal back the watch he’d lost in a poker game.
“I’m on board. I promise. Besides,” she added, smiling wanly. “My idea was even worse than yours.” Todd’s responding smile was beatific.
The nurse finished attaching the monitors to the bed as an orderly moved around her to unlock the wheels. “Miss,” the nurse said, not unkindly, “we need to take him now.”
Emma nodded, clutching his hand tightly for another brief moment. “I love you, T-rex. Don’t you
dare
die on me.” She sniffled.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said as they began to wheel him out. “And Ems?”
“What?”
“There’s something in my coat pocket for you. I knew you’d need ‘em. You never fail me, Em.” He waved as they pushed him around the corner. Stifling a hiccupping sob, Emma crossed to his beside table and picked up the dusty, torn coat he’d been wearing when they brought him in. It took her a minute before she located the right pocket.
Her hand closed over a smooth plastic case and she drew it out, already knowing what she’d find.
A contacts case.
Emma chuckled, feeling a sudden burst of optimism. Her brother knew her too well. And he also knew that she’d lose it if anything happened to him. There was no way he’d do that to her. He was going to be fine, and they were going to pull this off. In just one more week, they’d have their father’s watch back.
She unscrewed one white plastic lid and smiled at the brown contact floating in its solution. For the first time since Todd told her about his plan, she felt something other than anxiety when she thought about it. Emma recognized the feeling. She’d experienced it enough times when embroiled in one of her baby brother’s mad plans. That spark and fizzle in her veins was
excitement
.
There was something different about Emma today, Josh thought as he watched her direct the setup crew. Her normally quiet, even tone was somehow brighter today, bubblier. As if she was constantly on the verge of breaking into laughter. It was in her eyes as well, he noticed. She’d glanced up at him when he came downstairs and found her marshaling the troops to cart the sofas and chairs from his conservatory out to a storage truck, and her eyes sparkled like rare emeralds.
He paused on the bottom step, momentarily stunned by her beauty. He’d noticed she was pretty before, yes, in her own quiet way. But lit up like this, she surpassed merely ‘pretty’. Her smile faltered when she caught his stunned look. He mustered a casual expression as he crossed the room to her.
“Things are starting to come together. I was just in the ballroom with Shinae, and the decorations look fantastic.”
She nodded, dropping her arresting eyes to her ever-present clipboard. He could see a diagram of table placements on top, but she flipped that page over to peruse what looked like a detailed itinerary. “Good. We’re on track then. Once we’ve got these set up,” she indicated the second line of workers, who were now hauling round dinner tables toward the conservatory, “we can begin dressing the rooms down here.”
“What’s left to do tomorrow?” he asked, impressed with the huge transformation Emma and her team had wrought already.
“My team and I will get here around 10 a.m. to do a final walk-through of the game rooms and make sure everything is in place. But I’ll be off before the ball starts. Dag will be coordinating the rest of the staff.”
Josh rubbed a hand against his slightly stubbled jaw. “What if something happens during the ball? Shouldn’t you be here in case any crises arise?”
She flicked an unreadable look at him up through her long lashes. “I have some private family matters to attend to over the next few days. Vince will be overseeing the kitchen and waitstaff. Charlotte is handling the front of the house—the coat check, valets, and footmen. I’ve assigned Ari to the musicians. Should they need anything at all, he’ll arrange it for them. Tanya has the games covered. And Dag can reach me in the event of an emergency. They’re all supremely competent, Joshua. I wouldn’t leave them in charge if I didn’t have complete faith in all of them.”
“I didn’t mean to insinuate. . . .” He trailed off, backtracking over what she’d said. “Wait, we have footmen? What on earth for?”
“Checking invitations and opening doors.” She raised her brows. “You didn’t expect your guests to open their own doors, did you?”
His lips quirked at the dry tone of her voice. “Yes, actually. If I’d thought about it at all, I would have.”
She shook her head. “That’s why you hired Picture Perfect: to think of these little details. Not only will it impress your guests, but it will help keep the flow of foot traffic away from the doorways. Trust me, you’ll be grateful for the footmen.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” He grinned.
Emma tucked her pen into her bun. “The rest of the Picture Perfect support staff will be at the office. Think of them as backup if anything goes wrong. Which it won’t,” she assured him. He was about to speak when she spun, catching the sleeve of one of the burly movers. “Wally, make sure they don’t unload all the chairs, please. The ones at the very rear of the truck are going back to Steinem’s.”
Wally nodded. “Are they remainders?”
“We always get a few. But Janice is waiting for them, so if you can run them over to her as soon as you guys are done here, she’ll swap them out for you.” Emma smiled at him and patted his muscled forearm. “Thank you.”
Josh watched her pluck the pen from her bun and mark a check on her clipboard. He chuckled when she slid the writing instrument back into her hairdo. She glanced up at him.
“My mom does that, too.” He gestured toward her bun. “The pen-in-the-hair thing. Sometimes she’ll end up with three or four in there by the end of the day. How do you not feel that?”
She blinked at him for a moment, and then a fleeting smile darted across her lips. “Well, I don’t know about your mother, but my hair is very thick. The pen doesn’t even touch my scalp, so there’s nothing to feel, really. Just a tiny bit of added weight. You know,” she said suddenly, “you need to give me those signed releases for the photographers.”
He frowned slightly at the abrupt shift in topic but motioned her toward the stairs. “Right. They’re in my office.”
Emma bit her lip. Was she nervous to be alone with him? They’d interacted one-on-one plenty of times, but never in a confined space like his office. Not that the room was small, but it was considerably narrower than the great living room or the conference room at Picture Perfect. He watched her straighten her shoulders, apparently shaking off whatever trepidation she was feeling, and turn to climb up the stairs before him.