Hush (Just This Once) Page 14

  That does sadden me. Bertram Phillips was Christopher’s driver for years, which meant he was mine as well. He was older, kind and impossibly hard not to love. He was one of the shining lights in my life after my mother passed. “How?”

  “Heart attack.” Chris rests his palm against his chest. “In his sleep. God rest his soul.”

  I push past him to get to the door. “You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me. A call to my attorney would have sufficed.”

  His hand leaps to my shoulder to stop me. “I needed to tell you in person. Bertram left you something. A bequest in his will.”

  I look up and into his face. I feel nothing. The butterflies that were there when he first locked eyes with me at his office more than a decade ago have long flown away. I don’t have the yearning desire to kiss him anymore. All I see when I look up at him is an insecure man who valued the future much more than the present.

  “Bertram left me something?” I shake off his hand as I step back. “What is it?”

  His hand dips into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He pulls out a silver fountain pen and hands it to me. “He put a note in his will that you’d understand.”

  Tears sting my eyes as I reach for it. “I do understand. I do.”

  Chapter 42

  Evan

  For someone who is pregnant and wearing heels, Chloe can walk faster than most people in sneakers.

  We said goodbye at the diner and as she walked away, my phone rang. It was Jordan with a rundown of an update of one of my patients. I cut him off with the promise that I’d be at the hospital in ten minutes but that plan hit a snag when I realized that Chloe had left her scarf on the bench next to the table.

  I could have tucked it in my pocket until the next time I saw her.

  It would have been easy to call or text her to tell her that I had it, but I chased after her instead.

  She had a good half block on me before I was stopped by a light. By the times I caught up to her she was stopped on a sidewalk talking to a man. He’s older, distinguished and from what I can make out, he looks a hell of a lot like someone I’ve met.

  I stand silently near the corner watching as she takes something from his hand before she turns and walks into an office building.

  He shakes his head before his hands rake through his dark hair.

  When he starts walking in my direction, I approach him. I rarely forget a face and his has become imprinted in my brain because of one conversation we had years ago.

  I wait until he’s just about to pass me by before I call out to him. “Hey. I know you don’t I?”

  He turns then and I see no recognition in his eyes. “I don’t think so.”

  I push because I’m sure this is the same guy that I sat next to in the hospital chapel. “I’m Dr. Evan Scott. You’re Chris, right? I swear we met at the hospital a couple of years ago. I was in the chapel and you sat down…”

  “Next to you,” he interrupts me. “What the hell are you doing in this neighborhood?”

  What the hell were you doing talking to Chloe?

  I glance down the block to see if Chloe has exited the building but she’s not there. “I’m visiting a friend. Do you work around here?”

  His gaze darts to the street next to us. “I work uptown. I’m waiting for my driver to circle the block to pick me up. He’s new and apparently slow as fuck.”

  Arrogance. I have it and use it wisely. This guy doesn’t wear it well at all.

  “That night at the hospital,” I begin trying to find the right words. “I remember you had a lot on your mind. Did it all work out?”

  He glances back over his shoulder to where he was standing with Chloe not more than three minutes ago. “You could say that. I took your advice and I didn’t look back until now.”

  “You took my advice?” I question as I watch a black town car slow to a stop on the street next to us.

  He moves toward it. “I divorced my wife. She couldn’t give me what I wanted so I ended it that night. I had her things packed up before she got home from the hospital.”

  “Your wife was at the hospital too?”

  He nods as the driver rounds the car to open the back door. “My wife’s mother died that night. I was in the chapel praying to God that he’d give me a sign to leave Chloe. You asked if I needed anything and when you told me to think about what would make me happy, I knew that leaving her was the only choice I had.”

  What the fuck?

  “Your wife is named Chloe?”

  He lowers himself into the backseat, smoothing his suit jacket with his hand. “Chloe Newell, although she’s dropping that to go back to her maiden name. It’s career suicide but she’s never been bright.”

  My hand fists.

  “I just saw her.” He sighs deeply. “I’d still fuck her brains out but knowing that she’ll never give me a son makes it a waste of my time.”

  The driver slams the car door shut and I try and resist the urge to open it back up, haul him out of the and make him feel every ounce of pain he’s caused Chloe.

  ***

  “I need you to check on something for me, Jordan.” I approach him from behind.

  “What?” He doesn’t turn to face me and it pisses me off. That’s not on him. I’m still mad as fuck at Chris Newell and myself for sitting next to him at the hospital chapel two years ago.

  My mind has been reeling since he drove away. I didn’t go into the building that I saw Chloe enter. I couldn’t. I’m the fucked up reason her husband left her. He goddamn left her the night her mother died.

  I need the big picture before I can go to her and confess that I’m the guy who told her husband to look out for himself and leave her.

  The conversation I had with him has always stayed with me.

  He was alone in the chapel when I walked in. I sat next to him because he looked like he could use a shoulder and I needed one.

  Solace can be found in the walls of that place with strangers.

  I’ve sought counsel there on many times and I’ve offered advice to the families of patients who are either praying for a miracle or trying to accept the unthinkable.

  When he started talking about life, death and regret I listened. He said his wife couldn’t give him what he needed and it was tearing him apart. He hated her for it and the resentment that had started as a drop had grown into an ocean.

  I wasn’t in a good place so I told him to do whatever the fuck made him happy. I told him that life was too short to waste it on relationships that weren’t fulfilling.

  He mentioned leaving his wife, I gave him my friend Griffin’s name and number and he told me he’d call him that night to start the process of divorcing his wife.

  Chloe. That was Chloe.

  She was the woman who couldn’t give him what he needed and I now know with certainty that he was talking about a child.

  “I said what do you need?” Jordan spins around and looks right at me.

  I ignore his freshly plucked brows because I don’t have time to ask him what the fuck happened to his face. “I’m trying to find a patient. It was around two years ago. Her last name would have been Jones. She collapsed on a street. I need to know her cause of death. You know someone in records, right? You can give them that and they’ll figure it out?”

  He holds my gaze. “I don’t need to go to records. I was there when she died. You were too.”

  Tension tightens my shoulders. There’s no fucking way. “I wasn’t there.”

  “She was brought in after collapsing on a sidewalk,” Jordan begins.

  “You’re not thinking of the woman with the abdominal aortic aneurysm?” I interrupt.

  “That’s her.” He rests his hand on my shoulder. “Irena Jones, aged fifty-five. I’ll never forget that one. She coded on the table right after we opened her up. We were too late, Evan. She died right in front of us.”

  She did. I remember everything about that night. The piercing sound of the monitor as her pulse stopped;
the wails from the waiting room when Jordan went to tell her family that she was gone. I’ll never forget the sight of a woman with her head buried in the chest of her father while she wept for the mother that she’d never see again.

  I caused all of that. I was the man who changed Chloe’s life forever that night and fuck if I know how I’m going to tell her.

  Chapter 43

  Chloe

  I slam the desk of my drawer before I rest my face in my palms. “Dammit. Just dammit.”

  “That’s not the greeting I was hoping for but I’ll take it.”

  My head pops up to see Rocco standing in the doorway of my office with a basket of fruit in his hands.

  “Is that for me?” I tilt my head. “I hope it is because I’m starving.”

  He strolls in and places it in the middle of my desk. “I have no fucking idea what a pregnant woman likes so I picked a few of everything and shoved it in there for you.”

  I blow him a kiss. “You’re the best. I haven’t been eating enough fruit and now I don’t have an excuse.”

  He sits on the edge of my desk and scoops an apple from the basket. “What had you upset when I walked in?”

  I skim my fingers over my neck. “I lost my favorite scarf. I can’t remember where I left it.”

  He fingers the light gray one wrapped around his neck. “You’re welcome to take mine. I’m heading down to Boston for a few days and it’s windy as hell there. I can do without for you.”

  I pat him on the thigh. “You keep that one for yourself. It’s too masculine for me.”

  He sets the apple back down before he picks up the silver fountain pen that Christopher gave me. “This is beautiful, Chloe. Where did this come from?”

  I reach to take it from him. “Do you remember Bertram? He used to drive me and Chris everywhere.”

  His jaw tightens at the mention of my ex-husband. “I do remember him. Did he give that to you?”

  I slide my fingers up and down the pen. “He left it to me. He died last week.”

  “Shit.” He shakes his head. “That’s too bad. He seemed like a nice guy.”

  I look up at my brother. If anyone can be labeled a nice guy it’s him. “He was always there for me. He came to see me a few times after my mom died.”

  “That was good of him but why do you think he left you a pen? Does it have any significance to you?”

  I slide it onto my desk and squeeze my eyes shut briefly. “Bertram came to get me the day I signed my divorce papers. He said it would have pissed Chris off but that’s why he did it.”

  Rocco laughs. “I wish I would have known this guy.”

  I smile as I continue, “I didn’t ask him to go up to the office with me, but he did and when it was time for me to go into the conference room to sign, he handed me the pen. He said his mother had given it to him when he left Scotland to come here. He told me it was filled with luck so I used it sign the papers and I gave it back to him afterward.”

  “Treasure that pen, Chloe.” Rocco slides to his feet. “You got your freedom back the day you signed those papers and look at your life now. Your dreams are coming true.”

  I gaze down at the pen. “My future does look pretty fucking bright, doesn’t it?”

  “You know it. Nothing is standing in the way of the life you’ve always wanted.”

  ***

  I dial Evan’s cell number again and inwardly curse when it goes to voicemail. I can’t exactly be mad at the man. He’s busy at work and in his world that means helping people in a much more significant way than I do.

  I cross the street after exiting the subway and make my way down the tree-lined sidewalk. The green buds of spring are starting to pop up. The cold winter wind has been replaced with a spring breeze.

  I approach my dad’s house with excitement. I’ve been waiting to have this conversation with him for weeks and I thought the best way to do that would be to show up out of the blue with a box of his favorite cookies from the bakery he used to visit all the time when he lived in Manhattan.

  I’m just about to knock when the door swings open.

  I stand in shocked silence when I see my dad in an embrace with a redhead.

  “Chloe?” He scrambles to back away from the woman when he locks eyes with me. “What in the world are you doing here?”

  The redhead spins around to face me.

  She’s my dad’s age with soft creases around her green eyes. Her smile is warm and infectious. “You must be Chloe. I’m April.”

  I take her outstretched hand in mine and give it a soft shake. I manage to say a few words even though I feel as though my voice is caught somewhere between my stomach and my throat. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “April lives up the block.” My dad’s hand floats past my head toward the sidewalk. “We were having a coffee and…”

  “Sharing stories,” April finishes for him. “Your dad is a great storyteller, Chloe. I know all about you and your three brothers.”

  My mouth curves. “I hope I didn’t interrupt.”

  “I was on my way home.” April steps past me as she pulls her thin sweater around her shoulders to cover her purple dress. “If you two want a bite to eat later, I’ll bring over some dinner. You just let me know.”

  I watch her walk away and when I turn back to look at my dad, I see something in his eyes that hasn’t been there for a very long time. Hope.

  I see no reason not to add to that, so I say the five words I’ve been holding inside for the past three-and-a-half months. “I’m having a baby, dad.”

  The hug he pulls me into tells me that we’re both going to be just fine.

  Chapter 44

  Evan

  I’ve been avoiding the woman I’m falling in love with for two days because I’m damn sure that everything between us will change when she realizes that I’m the guy who steamrolled her life into a million little pieces on a Thursday night two years ago.

  I finally found what I was looking for online when I searched for Chloe Newell.

  Image after image of my beautiful Chloe appeared. Some of them were from her days in law school but many were from her time spent as the head of an advocacy group for disabled workers.

  She’s put in her time to improve the community and she stood next to her dick of an ex-husband at a host of charity events to benefit others.

  The pictures of Chloe standing alongside Christopher Newell made my stomach churn. She was obviously his trophy wife; a young woman meant to boost his ego and his stature among his friends.

  I read a few interviews where Christopher stated that he was looking most forward to starting a family with Chloe.

  It was all about the heir for him and when she couldn’t produce it, he tossed her to the curb.

  Their divorce has been dirty and filled with countless accusations all tossed at her. She’s kept tight lipped about what tore her marriage apart, instead focusing on others who need her and building a career of her own.

  When I tracked down a picture on a blog of their family on their wedding day, my worst fear was confirmed. The woman who had taken her last breath while I was readying to save her life was Chloe’s mom.

  The loss of a patient is never easy. Knowing that it was someone who Chloe cherished makes it almost too much to shoulder.

  “You can’t control what happened that night.” Jack pushes his bottle of beer against my back. “You gave that ass advice not knowing that he was married to a great girl and you did what you could for her mom.”

  I watch as he rounds me before he takes a seat on my sofa.

  “Are you going to pace the floor all night, Evan, or are you going to join me and watch the game?”

  I can’t sit. I can’t think straight. I can’t fucking focus on a hockey game.

  “What if she blames me for everything?”

  Jack glances over at me. “You didn’t do a thing wrong. Why the hell are you beating yourself up about this? You saved her from a bad marriage and you tried to save her
mother’s life.”

  “I ruined her life in the space of two hours.” I clench my fists at my side. “Her divorce has been a battle. She’s been dragged through the mud and she’s had to cope with her mom’s death.”

  “All of that would have happened if you would have been at the hospital that night or not.” He lifts his beer in the air. “It’s not on you. None of this is on you.”

  I don’t see it that way. “I’m the one who told her husband to dump her that night. I had no fucking clue that her mother had just died.”

  “He’s the dick who made that decision.”

  “What if she never talks to me again?”

  He raises a brow as he looks over at where I’m still standing. “You two are having a child, Evan. Even if she somehow blames you for that fucked up night, you’re still going to co-parent this baby. Give her some credit.”

  “I know I need to talk to her about this.”

  “You need to find your balls and do it as soon as possible.” He looks at the television. “If you keep this all a secret from her you’ll regret it. Be honest. Tell her what happened and the two of you can put this behind you.”

  It sounds reasonable coming from him but he’s not the one who changed the entire course of Chloe’s life. I did that and before another day passes, I need to own that.

  Chapter 45

  Chloe

  I look over at Evan when Dr. Bergstein’s nurse calls out my name.

  Chloe Newell.

  He doesn’t react which I suspect is because he did some digging and realized that I’m still lugging around my married name. I’ve been meaning to file the paperwork to change it back to Jones. I’m definitely doing that before the baby is born.

  “Do you want the baby to have your last name?” I ask when we both stand to follow the nurse to the exam room. “Or we could do a hyphenated thing like Jones hyphen Scott or we could just name the baby Jones Scott.”