RED SOX: They are still hanging in there so we should too. Believe!
PATRIOTS: I guess the Pat's will be playing Bye, Bye Brady this year.
FEEDBACK: Love it? Hate it? Want the t-shirt? Let me know what you think p.phair@comcast.net
"Come on, babe, don't be hurrying off to work. Give me a little kiss or," he grinned in the way he knew melted her heart, "a big kiss. Maybe I can work up a little something for you in return."
Brook rolled her eyes as she reached behind her back to hook her bra. "Greg, I've got to be at the hotel by 8 am for a meeting. At this rate, I'll have to run there. Traffic is brutal this time of morning."
He watched her as she dressed from his spot reclined on the bed with his hands clasped behind his shaved head. His bare chest and legs looked warm and dark against the creamy silk sheets. As inviting as he tried to appear, Greg eventually realized Brook was not coming back to bed.
"Seeing as I finished servicing you, am I dismissed?" Brook flashed him a quick scowl but continued dressing. "Guess now that my chores are done, you want me to haul my big black ass out of here, Missy Brook."
Brook stopped mid push into her pump to warn, "Don't start that crap again."
"Why is it whenever I want to talk about my feelings, it's crap but when you want to get weepy over a call going to voice mail it's all about emotional trust?" Greg sat up to question.
Brook resumed putting on her shoes and grabbed her suit jacket. She was sliding her arm into the sleeve when a thrown pillow bounced off her hip.
"Jesus, Greg, I don't have time for this."
The man tossed the sheets aside and got to his tall, muscular body to its feet. "Say what you really mean, Brook. You only have time to fuck me. No, I should say, you only have time for me to fuck you but you don't have time for a life with me." Greg saw he finally had her full attention. "Now, the only thing I need to know is if you're ever going to make time for us or are you planning on just screwing around with the hired help until somebody rich, white, and presentable comes your way?"
Brook's cheeks reddened with anger, "Don't talk to me like that! I never treat you like…like…like…,"
"…your fuck toy," Greg supplied as he pushed passed her to retrieve his pants. "And, you just did."
Brook stood slack jawed at the statement. Greg never raised his eyes to meet hers. He merely shrugged into his jeans. She could see from his stilted motions and fixed stare he was very angry. In the nine years she had known him, Brook had never seen Greg as furious as he was now. It struck her that she might be watching him go for the last time.
"What are you doing?" She forced the words out over her fears.
Greg sighed heavily before answering. "I'm leaving. Don't want you to have to put me out. Wouldn’t want you to be worried about the candlesticks disappearing."
"Stop it. You know I trust you."
He gave a questioning snort but continued to pull himself together to leave.
"Greg, please wait." He kept dressing. "Give me a minute." He didn't look at her. "Greg, please! I love you!"
Her phone rang at that very moment.
"If you love me," Greg said on the second ring, "you're ready to stop hiding me. If you really love me, you'll let me answer your phone."
The phone rang a third time.
"Greg," Brook felt all the color drain from her face as she stepped into the freefall of an unplanned milestone, "would you get the phone."
He picked up on the next ring.
"Hello? Yes, this is Brook Sydney-Sebastian's residence."
He went quiet as he listened. His back straightened and he turned quickly toward Brook. His eyes narrowed with concern.
"Yes, yes, we're on our way." Greg dropped the phone, missing the cradle as he rushed to Brook's side. "We need to go. Now. There's been an accident…,"
Brook felt panic begin at every nerve ending, "What…who…?"
"Come on," Greg hustled her to the door. "It's Sage."
"NO! NO!"
Her tears and screaming did nothing to slow Greg's progress to the door. He all but carried her over the threshold as he raced her to her family's side. The family he had never met. He idly wondered if meeting Brook's family today would destroy their fragile, freshly expressed love.
Simone tried to scan the hospital lobby as she was hurried along by a pack of security guards. She could not see over them and could barely see around the hulking creatures employed to protect her. Unfortunately, they could only save her from physical harm. They were useless in defending her from heartbreak.
"Mrs. Sydney-Sebastian," a California tanned man in a tailored wool suit said as he met her entourage half way. "I'm Michael Ambrose, Boston General's guest relations vice president. We have a room prepared for you and your staff. Please, if you allow me...,"
Simone reached out, not to shake his hand, but to snatch a fistful of his fine suit jacket's lapel. "How is she?"
"Ma'am, the doctors will meet with you in…,"
"Listen here, Mickey," Simone hissed, "I don't need a fucking room! I need to know if my daughter is alive. If you can't tell me that then get the Hell out of my way before I let my thugs here beat you brainless."
"She's alive." Michael quickly clarified, "She was alive on arrival. She maintained strong vital signs in the air ambulance. The trauma team took her to surgery immediately from the roof port. I haven't heard any updates since they started working on her."
"Oh, God," Simone slumped fearing the worst.
Michael took a gentle hold of the arm which moments before assaulted him. "Get her a wheelchair," he calmly instructed one of her guards. "Mrs. Sydney-Sebastian, please try to breath deep. Don't pass out on us. It is good news that I haven't heard any more from the surgical suite. It means they are still working on her so she is still with us."
Simone allowed her burly protectors to lower her into a wheelchair. She grasped her pounding head in both hands. Only shear will kept her from being reduced to a puddle of tears.
"Please, follow me," Michael directed and the security detail promptly pushed Simone along the path he blazed.
Tristan took several deep breaths trying to force down the wave of nausea threatening to overtake her. The shots the emergency room doctor gave her for pain did wonders to alleviate the agony of her dislocated shoulder and his successful maneuver to relocate it. However, they left her stomach churning. She was certain one jarring motion would unleash a violent expulsion of whatever was left in that uneasy pit.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't my little snitch," Ines announced as she entered the exam room.
"Haven't I suffered enough?" Tristan mumbled before glaring at the owner of the taunting voice from her past. "Looks like somebody finally made good. Detective, is it? Nice to know harassing homeless kids pays off. Did they give you a gold plated gun along with the detective's shield?"
Ines grinned, "Nope, just more bullets. Enough about my career, let's talk about yours. Looks to me like you've finally hit the mother load in your chronic life of crime. This should just do the trick and buy you twenty to life. I must say, I am slightly impressed with your tenacious struggled to completely f 'up your life. Love to hang around reminiscing but I want to be sure you get on the last bus to Framingham tonight. I checked they have your old bed waiting for you. You know the drill. Hell, you probably heard it more than I've said it. You have the right to remain silent…"
"What? What are you talking about? I'm getting arrested for falling off a fucking building?"
Tristan tried to sit up on the gurney to face Ines but the room spun in a sickening tilt around her. Her belly roiled and she had to swallow hard to force back steaming remnants of undigested food trying to make an escape.
"No, falling is still legal," Ines said with a broad grin. "It's the tampering with equipment and attempted murder which remain crimes even in our liberal Commonwealth."
Tristan's collapsed back onto the gurney was as much from the shock as it was from pain. She stared at the Detective waiting for the punch line of this very bad joke. But, it never came. Instead, Ines continued to advice Tristan of her inalienable rights.
"Hold it, hold it, wait," Tristan attempted to hold back the verbal battering but Ines continued until the last right was stated.
"Do you understand…"
Tristan was finally able to interrupt the flow with a shout, "Are you kidding me? You think I did something to get us killed?"
"No, I think you were trying to kill just her." Ines' voice became menacing, "I have proof the safety lines were tampered with. From all the shop classes you got in juvie, we both know have the means to do such a sick thing. You've been very vocal in you newspaper columns about your hatred of the Sebastian's which provides the element of motive. The foreman of the roof crew confirmed you were on the roof long before anybody else. Final element of opportunity, check. So for the attempted murder of Sage Sebastian, I'm placing you, Tristan Ayer, under…,"
"Say nothing, Tristan," Gareth Sebastian all but growled as he barreled into the exam room.
Tristan's surprise at the attorney's sudden but disheveled appearance helped her obey the command. However, Ines believed she was too long in her job to ever be truly shocked by the human desire for revenge.
"There'll be no vigilante justice here, Mr. Sebastian. Let me handle this while you comfort your family." Ines' tone softened just a bit, "Come on, Gareth, be smart. I'll deal with Tristan and the investigation. You've got more than enough to do. No need adding battery charges to your plate."
Gareth, puffy red eyes and dripping nose, shook his head no. "You've misunderstood my intent, Detective. I'm Ms. Ayer's attorney."
Both women gave opened mouth stares at the pudgy man with a receding hairline. Silence draped the room; each listener too stunned to question his statement.
"If I were you, Detective, I'd rethink taking my client into custody. Our construction supervisor has given me a preliminary report. This morning's incident was nothing more than an unfortunate accident caused by a malfunctioning clamp." Garth stated with confidence but nervously loosened his already slack tie knot.
Ines was unconvinced.
"Just an hour ago, I was told the clamp was filed down. Mr. Lee…"
"Mr. Lee is no longer the construction supervisor. He has taken a temporary leave of absence from Sebastian/America. A death in the family required his return to Hong Kong. I expect he will be there for some time dealing with the matter," Gareth said in an easy, well rehearsed manner.
"Really," Ines grimly intoned. "That guy is having just a fucking horrible day. First, he's in charge when his boss' daughter gets taken for a swan dive. Then he's hurried off to a country with no U.S. extradition treaty. He must be the unluckiest employee of Sebastian/America."
Gareth's eyes misted momentarily, "Second unluckiest, actually. Sage would be the unluckiest."
Tristan flinched at the mention of the woman's name.
"Our acting supervisor is at the site now with OSHA investigators. They issued a joint verbal, preliminary agreement that the incident was accidental. I expect heavy fines to be levied against our company for safety violations but there is no criminal activity for you to concern yourself with. We appreciate your efforts to ensure our well being and the community at large but your services are not needed at this time."
Ines folded her arms over her chest as she considered the lawyer in front of her. He was visibly upset which was understandable considering his sister was in surgery. Yet, there was something calculated about his smooth presentation. It was very lawyer like. That fact alone convinced Ines the man was lying.
"Okay, Mr. Sebastian, we'll manage this your way for now. I want that OSHA report on my desk ten minutes after it hits your inbox. Don't screw around with me. I got no problem going after you for obstruction of justice if the report doesn't pan out, you got me?"
"Perfectly. Thank you for your time, Detective." Gareth turned his full attention to Tristan, "We'll let you get dressed in private now, Ms. Ayer. Then you can join me with the rest of the family while we wait for news of Sage's surgery. I'm sure you don't want to miss your exclusive look at my family's suffering."
Tristan watched the pair depart through the only exit to the exam room. Like so many times before in her life, Tristan knew she was trapped in a prison of her own design.