A Love Like This (8 page)

I frowned. “Well, Ryan is working all day
and it’s a damn good thing I didn’t go home first. Are you aware
what’s going on with the January feature?”

“I know the shoot was last Wednesday, but I
haven’t seen the pics yet. Why?”

“Oh, nothing.” I leaned back and pushed my
sandaled feet on the edge of my mahogany desk. I was in ratty
jeans, a t-shirt and flip flops. Slip-on shoes were mandatory for
the airport security, albeit if all wrong for the New York winter.
“Just the shoot was on the
wrong designer
. Not really a big
deal. It could just fuck the whole issue,” I said with mock
casualness that I wasn’t feeling. My heart was pounding and I was
freaking out, perspiration was dotting my forehead.

She gasped and I could see her almost jump
up from her chair in a frenzy. “How in the hell did that happen?”
she burst out. “More importantly, can you save it, Julia?”

“How should I know at this point? I just
found out ten minutes ago! I’m taking inventory of what’s been done
and I’ll know more when I find out if the cover printed. Jesus, I’m
glad I didn’t wait until Monday to come in here. Then there
would’ve been no chance to salvage it.”

She sighed on the phone. “Well, fuck!”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” I
retorted.

“What can you do?”

I loved how the messes always landed in my
lap. No matter who caused it, I was expected to clean it up. I
rolled my eyes and shook my head.

“I’m going to concentrate on the fix and
then I’ll figure out how this happened. I’m so pissed right now I’d
like to fire whoever is responsible. I may have to order a reshoot
or we may have to beg Dior to let us switch months. It won’t be
easy because they have their show in January. Not fucking
February
! We’ll be lucky if they don’t pull all together.
Either way, I’m left doing a completely new shoot and it’s gonna
cost the magazine a bunch of money. If the cover is printed, we’ll
have to reshoot with the correct material this weekend.” I wondered
if the disgust I felt was obvious in my voice. Ryan was supposed to
be off on Sunday and now I had to work. “Ahhhhhh!” I almost yelled
into the phone. “This is not how I was planning on spending the
weekend, Mere. Far from it.”

“Yes, I can imagine.”

I huffed.
No, you really can’t.

My eyes sought out the wedding photo on my
desk. Ryan was so handsome and the way he was looking at me melted
my heart.

When I finished the call on my office phone,
I pulled my cell phone out and sent a page to Ryan, letting him
know that I was back in New York safely. Due to all of the
equipment in the ER, the staff wasn’t allowed to have cell phones
on during their shifts so I had to content myself with hearing from
him during his breaks.

He wasn’t going to be happy. Now our plans
on Sunday were screwed. We’d planned to do early Christmas shopping
and he wanted me to make the cranberry and white chocolate cookies
he loved. Then there would have been the hours lying in each
other’s arms in front of the fireplace. Ryan had been so happy when
I called him yesterday and told him I’d be coming home a few days
early. I wanted to surprise him, but I couldn’t keep it to myself.
Now it was pretty much ruined.

My heart dropped into my stomach in a
sickening sort of way.
Don’t be mad at me, baby,
I silently
begged him in my mind. But, of course, I knew he’d be livid.

Mike stormed into my office without
knocking, loudly banging through the door and I jumped in my chair.
“What the hell, Julia? Andrea called and said I had to get in here
immediately, but wouldn’t say why. What’s going on?” he said
impatiently. “It’s a good thing I was already in Manhattan having
lunch with a friend.”

“Hmmm… yes.” He was dressed casually, but
always trendy. He certainly looked the part of a swank, fashion
photographer, his hair in a modern cut that he managed with gel.
“Well, the shoot last Wednesday? Did you look at the program I
left?”

His face creased. “What? I did.” He shook
his head. “The models were from Ford, I let the make-up people do
their thing per your instructions. I didn’t do shit but take
pictures. What was wrong with it?”

“Only the wrong wardrobe, wrong
designer.”

He was incredulous and his surprise showed
on his face. “Holy fuck! No way!”

“Yeah. No big deal, right? This is a hot
mess.”

Mike fell down into one of the leather
chairs opposite my desk. “Crap, Julia. I’m… sorry.”

I shrugged. “Let’s just get it fixed and
then we can try to find out how it happened.”

My phone rang and I could see from the
caller ID it was Andrea. “Hey, what’d you find out?” I said the
minute I picked up the phone.

“Bad news. Kent said the cover is printed
and already been shipped to bindery to wait for the pages. You know
the drill. We’re stuck with the features and the page count
now.”

“Crap.” I leaned forward on my elbows and
inhaled until I thought my lungs might burst. “Okay, get on the
phone and see if we can get the same models back for the weekend.
Whatever day, it doesn’t matter. I’ve got Mike with me so I can
deliver the happy news to him, but line up the make-up, set and
lighting people for the day you can get the models confirmed.”

Andrea groaned. “They’re gonna complain
because it’s so close to Thanksgiving. I can hear it all now.”

“It can’t be helped. I’m not happy about it
either. It will be expensive, but at least we don’t have to tell
the designer. Just get on the phone to Paris and tell the house
that we’re having some delays getting the garments back to them,
but we will send them on Monday. Apologize profusely for that, but
don’t tell them what happened.”

“Okay, will do,” she answered.

“Thanks. You rock, girl.” I hung up the
phone and looked back at the man sitting across from me. He was
running a thumb across his lower lip, his eyes raking over me. I
looked very different than he was used to seeing me.

“Cancel your plans, lover-boy. Your new
honey will have to cool her jets this weekend.”

“I gathered. How was Spain?”

“Gorgeous. It’s beautiful there. I really
want to take Ryan back if I ever get a vacation from this
place.”

“What about the work?” He raised his
eyebrows in question.

“Are you still mad at me because you didn’t
get to go? I needed you here.”

“And look how well that turned out,” Mike
stated the obvious with a smirk and incredulous expression.

Smart ass.

“Yes,” I answered, sarcasm lacing my tone.
“The settings at Gibraltar were amazing, but the photographer
wasn’t you. Satisfied?” I bit my lip and tried not to smile.

“No! But that helped a little. What are you
doing here, anyway? Trouble in paradise?” Mike asked
sardonically.

“No.” I shook my head and smiled brightly.
“No trouble at all. Bliss, just not enough time. It’s not bad
enough that Ryan lives at the hospital, but then I have this type
of shit to deal with! Any ideas on what caused it?”

Mike’s brow dropped slightly as he
considered the question and he shook his head. “Ah… nothing. I
followed the logs. Who was in charge of them? Andrea?”

I shoved my chair back from my desk and
picked up one of his photos. They really were incredible. Too bad
they couldn’t be used. “Not Andrea. I’d trust her with anything.
Look how well she did when I had the accident. Nothing went wrong
at all during those months, right?”

“Nothing to this magnitude; but it wasn’t
perfect. I’m sure Meredith didn’t want to bog you down with the
details.”

“Hmmm. I guess. I’ll let you know if it’s
Saturday or Sunday for the shoot. Thanks for coming in.”

“Julia, it’s good to have you back.” His
eyes roamed over my body suggestively. “You look good.”

“Happiness will do that for you!” I shot
back. “See you this weekend.”

I decided that I might as well leave the
office, so after one last check-in with Andrea and I’d answered all
of the pressing emails, I was out the door. The wind was brisk as I
hailed a cab that would take me home, hoping that I’d find my
luggage waiting for me with the concierge.

I pulled my phone out and looked at it
longingly. No word from my husband yet. He must be incredibly busy
or he would have called by now.
Ugh.

I watched the people rush over the
crosswalks in droves as the cab stopped at the light. The
buildings, cars and people melted into a blur as I lost myself in
my thoughts. I missed Ryan and ached to get my arms around him, to
feel his body cover mine. I closed my eyes and rested my head
against the back of the seat, silently wishing it was the middle of
the night and Ryan was finally joining me in our big bed. The hours
would drag until then.

At home, I busied myself with calling my
parents and Ellie to check in. My parents still required I call at
the end of a journey to let them know I was safe and I wanted to
see how Ellie was doing. She seemed a little better, but rattled
about a new celebrity client. The woman was a big name, so she
should have been ecstatic, but her voice was decidedly flat. My
heart was still aching for her, but part of me wanted to yell at
her to get her head out of her ass.

In my heart, I knew Harris was loyal to her.
So why didn’t she?

I’d just spent every non-working moment in
Spain trying to convince her. I felt bad for both of them, but they
were both so stubborn. There was a real chance that they would
break up for good if neither of them were willing to compromise.
The situation made me sad and long for Ryan’s arms around me. I
could think of nothing more important to me than him. Nothing I
wouldn’t sacrifice to be with him.

I sighed as the doorbell rang. It was the
bellman with my luggage and I took it from him gratefully, then
went to my purse for a tip.

“Thank you, Brian.” I smiled at the
teenager. He smiled shyly and nodded but didn’t say anything.

I needed to unpack and do the laundry and
then make myself a light dinner.
Alone. Again.

The emptiness of the apartment screamed
Ryan’s absence like a banshee. Ryan left the bed unmade and after I
toted the bag in and dropped it on the floor, I fell upon it,
wrapping my arms around the pillow and filling my lungs with his
familiar scent.
Yum.

I was tired and I could fall asleep immersed
in the bed he’d vacated pretending he was with me, wound up with my
body. My eyes were heavy, as I rolled further into the pillows and
let them drift shut, my breathing getting deeper. It was six hours
later in Barcelona and so the jet lag was bound to be an issue. If
I slept now I would be awake when Ryan finally came home around two
in the morning. Yes… this was a good idea.

I peeled the latex gloves off as I left the
examining room. It had been a hellaciously busy day and it was only
dinner time. I looked longingly at the clock. I’d been on for
almost twelve hours and still had eight more to go.

I was excited when Julia told me that she
was coming home three days early, but I’d carefully arranged my
schedule with the other residents and the attending so that I’d be
off on Sunday, the day after she was supposed to arrive.

“Jane,” I spoke to one of the nurses, “I’m
going to take a break for a few minutes. My wife is getting back
from Spain and I need to see if she called. I’ll be right
back.”

“Sure, Ryan.” The pretty blonde smiled at
me. She was a very good nurse, competent and efficient; two traits
extremely important to work in emergency medicine. I could count on
her to be steady and focused. She didn’t get rattled like some of
the others. A few were so scattered, I wondered how in the hell
they ever made it through school.

“Page me if I’m needed.” She nodded and I
rushed to the physician’s lounge so I could retrieve my phone from
my locker. I rubbed the back of my neck as I walked down the
sterile hallway, the white floor shining in the bright florescent
light. “Uhhh…” I sighed as I pushed the door open.

It was a large room with lockers on one wall
and a few tables with counters, a refrigerator, cupboards and a
microwave on the opposite side. There was a television and a few
recliners on one end and a door leading into a couple of small
rooms with cots where the residents could rest when we were on
call. I sometimes felt like I spent more time in these rooms than
in my own apartment.

Caleb Montgomery, one of the other
residents, was coming out of a sleeping room. He was a small kid,
almost scrawny with red-rimmed eyes and hunched shoulders, easily
six inches shorter than me. He was third year, and even though two
years my senior, he seemed younger, somehow. He was a genuinely
nice guy and we became fast friends when I offered to share some of
Julia’s cheesecake a couple of months back.