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Authors: Jane Tara

Forecast (13 page)

BOOK: Forecast
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Oh God no, he felt like crying!

He pushed Delphine’s hands away. “Sorry … can you stop doing that?”

She looked at him, straight through him. “I know,” is all she said.

She moved away from the bed and had a sip of water. Drew felt edgy, exposed. Mel was still working on his leg, his eyes closed now. For all Drew knew, he was probably asleep, and still charging by the minute.

Delphine returned to the bed and started poking near Drew’s groin. “As to be expected. Nothing wrong with your root chakra!”

Drew wished she’d leave his root chakra alone. It had been over four weeks since it had seen any action and it certainly didn’t need to be teased by a sixty-year-old woman in a kaftan.

Drew wanted to write these people off as complete weirdoes—but they weren’t. They were all nice and smart. They made a few well-timed jokes, mostly at their own expense. They were more than willing to find the humor in what they did, and to also listen to, and intelligently assuage his doubts. By the end of the session, Drew was wiped. He thanked them for coming, waved them off, and then fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He didn’t wake for eighteen hours.

Delphine returned everyday for the rest of the week. She worked extensively on his leg, and threw the occasional symbol onto his chest. By Friday she felt her work was done.

“Give it about five days and then demand some new tests,” she said.

“As long as the leg has healed enough for me to fly home.”

Delphine gave him a sly smile. “I think you’ll find it has.”

Over the next few days, Drew noticed some changes. He couldn’t be sure they had anything to do with Delphine or the other healers, but as a man of science he couldn’t completely discount them either.

He spent a great deal more time than usual on the bedpan, thankful that he’d long since passed the point of embarrassment with Ingrid. He also slept a lot more, something he’d been unable to do since the accident, on account of being so stressed. Best of all, he didn’t need any more painkillers. He was uncomfortable popping pills, and didn’t want to end up doing macramé with other celebrities in rehab.

Whether it was Jack’s weird friends, the extra sleep he was getting, or simply because it was time, Drew felt better than he had in ages.

Dr. Hinchey was pleased with his progress and agreed to another round of tests. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she said, “but we might be able to transfer you to Mount Sinai in New York.”

Later that afternoon, Dr. Hinchey returned with the test results and an ashen face. “I … ah … sorry it took so long. I had to get some colleagues to take a look.”

Drew’s heart plummeted. Something was wrong.

The doctor pulled up a chair beside Drew’s bed. “It seems … your leg has healed … exceptionally well—strangely well, considering the extent of the injury. In fact … we can’t find any evidence of a break at all.”

Had he not been attached to his torture rack, Drew would’ve jumped up and down with joy. “Are you saying I’m fixed?”

Dr. Hinchey shrugged. “I guess. I’ve never come across a case like this before. It’s a … and I hate this word … but it does seem to be a miracle.” She stood, still apparently baffled. “We’ll arrange some rehab in Manhattan, but … I guess you can go home.”

Drew grabbed the doctor by the arm and pulled her in for a hug. “That’s the best goddamn news ever!”

“We’ll get this contraption off you this afternoon.”

Ever the wimp. “Will it hurt?”

“Not much. It can hurt when a tibial traction pin is removed, but it’s been on for a while so should be quite loose.” She smiled at him. “Can someone pick you up in the morning?”

“I’ll bribe someone to come down,” grinned Drew.

“Okay then.” Dr. Hinchey patted Drew’s arm. “This has certainly been one for the books.”

The following morning, Drew celebrated his pending freedom by hobbling up and down the hospital corridor until Jack arrived. He wasted no time signing out of Plankaville Medical and, after a teary farewell from Ingrid and Winston, he finally headed home.

CHAPTER NINETEEN
 
 

Rowie was obviously close to tears. She was struggling to remain professional, but her eyes glistened, and the viewers loved her more for it. All across the Tri-State area people were glued to their sets for one last look at the psychic weatherwoman.

“Not a cloud in the sky, but I predict there’ll be rain later. That’s it from me. Drew Henderson is back on Monday. Have a great weekend.” Rowie stopped, took a moment, and then smiled. “And thanks. I had fun.”

Tina and Bill bade goodnight, and Shin counted them out.

It was over.

Shin appeared and gave Rowie a hug, and then removed her mike.

“How do you feel?”

“Okay,” Rowie shrugged. “Back to the real world tomorrow.”

“I think we should celebrate.”

“I’m in,” said Rowie. “Any ideas?”

“Apparently Drew is back and everyone is meeting at the Tavern for some drinks. We could go,” Shin suggested.

Rowie’s heart skipped a beat but she gave nothing away. “Sounds good.” Especially since he’d invaded her brain day and night since that phone call.

“Excellent, I’ll see you at the Tavern.”

Rowie took her time saying goodbye to the rest of the crew. Some would see her later for drinks, but others had to stick around for the late news.

“Rowie!” Tina walked up to Rowie and gave her perfunctory kiss on each cheek. “Goodbye, dear.”

“Thanks, Tina. I’ve enjoyed working with you.”

Tina rolled her eyes. It was something Rowie had seen her do countless times. Tina saved all her facial movements for when she was on air. Off camera, she barely moved her face. If someone made a joke, Tina rolled her eyes. If someone was rude, Tina rolled her eyes. If terrorists broke into her home and held a gun to her head, Tina would probably roll her eyes. It was the one facial expression that never left an imprint. Tina took the aging process very seriously. In fact, she took everything seriously, which is why she had no laughter lines around her eyes. Tina’s face was living proof that a good dermatologist and complete lack of humour could make a woman over forty look at least fifteen years younger.

“I know things were … tense between us at the beginning, but you proved yourself.”

“Thanks, Tina.” Rowie was touched. Tina rarely gave compliments.

“It’s a pity heartless Henderson has to come back. Next time we’ll pray for a bigger hurricane. Anyway, good luck. It’s been … well, weird really.”

The minute Tina left, Bill sauntered up.

“Can’t leave without saying goodbye to my favorite redhead.”

What a pity, thought Rowie.

“Listen, Rowie, how about you and I go and have a little … drinky together?”

“That sounds lovely, Bill …”

Bill’s eyes lit up.

“… But I already have plans,” Rowie finished.

Bill smiled, fifty thousand dollars worth of dental work flashing her way. “Some other time then.”

“Yes.”
Like when pigs fly and woman embrace cellulite.

Rowie returned to her dressing room and removed her TV makeup and replaced it with a touch of mascara and a dab of lip-gloss. She threw all her things into a bag and collected her farewell cards and flowers. She intended to drop everything off at home before going to the Tavern.

There was a knock on the door and Jess poked her head in.

“Hey, Rowie, glad I caught you. Can you come in for a meeting first thing Monday morning?”

“Sure. Why, is there a problem?”

“Not at all,” said Jess. “Quite the opposite. We might have something else for you.”

Rowie couldn’t contain her excitement. “Really? More work?”

“Yes. But only Mac and I know, so keep a lid on it for now.”

“Of course,” said Rowie

“There’s drinks at the Tavern if …”

“Yes, I’ve heard,” said Rowie. “I’ll see you there?”

Jess closed the door and Rowie took one last look around her dressing room.
More work?
She couldn’t contain her excitement and did a little jig.

And then she remembered her grandmother and her excitement vanished. Damn her, and her horrible little Post-it notes.

CHAPTER TWENTY
 
 

Jess stood at the bar and watched the biggest homecoming since Apollo II returned from the moon. People cheered and clapped and hugged. It was as if Jesus had just walked into an annual Evangelical conference.

Drew looked thinner, his hair needed a trim … he was pale. But he was still the most drop-dead gorgeous man Jess had ever seen … unfortunately.

She glanced around the bar and wondered if this many people would turn up to welcome her home. Probably not. There would more likely be a celebration if she left. She didn’t get it. She worked just as hard, was just as pleasant to everyone, but people never really warmed to her. It was one of the—many—reasons she adored being with Drew. For once, she felt accepted.

Let him have his fun, thought Jess. Come Monday, Drew Henderson wouldn’t be smiling. Not with the changes she’d just instigated. She paid for her vodka, and walked to an empty table at the side of the room. She was never comfortable in social situations. She appeared cool and confident, but she battled low self-esteem. She knew her insecurities were unwarranted. She was smart, articulate, and thanks to a number of scholarships, very well educated. She’d spent a year in Paris, as a student, and been back many times since. It had left its mark on her style, the way she dressed, and the way she carried herself. She was also attractive. Tall, long dark hair, dark eyes, a body honed to perfection at the gym. There was absolutely no need for Jess Walker to lack confidence, but she did. Not that anyone would ever guess it.

She opened her bag, found her compact and quickly glanced into its mirror. Her makeup was fine. Although it was difficult to truly tell in the Tavern’s dim light.

The Tavern was a rustic old place, complete with the type of original fittings and furniture from the seventies that weren’t even fashionable the first time round. The place looked tired, but drinks at the Tavern had been a USBC tradition for nearly thirty years.

Drew noticed Jess and limped towards her. “Hey, Jessie girl.”

“Is your leg hurting?”

“Nope … just a bit weak.” He grinned sheepishly. “Still angry with me?”

It took every ounce of willpower not to throw herself into his arms. Instead, she gave him a cool smile. “No. You didn’t mean to fall.”

Drew looked genuinely apologetic. “Actually, I’m talking about Eva.”

What did he want from her? Absolution? “I know.”

“I figured that’s why you were so harsh on the phone.” Drew teased.

“I never let my personal feelings get in the way of business,” Jess lied, and pushed the meeting she’d just had with Mac to the back of her mind. It was too late to feel guilty. “I think you underestimate my ability to separate the two.”

“Okay … great. I just want to make sure everything is fine between us.”

Everything will be fine once you’re mine.
“Of course it is.”

A cheer went up at the front of the bar and Jess noticed Rowie had entered. Unbelievable! The girl had been at USBC for a nanosecond and was already Miss Congeniality. Jess consoled herself with the fact that she didn’t need friends and would one day run the company. She watched as Shin grabbed Rowie and gave her a hug. He said something and Rowie threw her head back and laughed.

Jess couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed that freely.

Taye grabbed Rowie’s arm and she twisted around to speak to him … and fell over her own feet. Jess shook her head in amazement. The witch even fell flat on her face with style. But then, she’d obviously had an awful lot of practice.

“Graceful little thing,” Drew’s eyes were riveted on Rowie. “Cute though.”

Alarm bells began to ring in Jess’ head. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Just making an innocent observation.” Drew sipped his beer and watched as Michelle gave Rowie a friendly hug. Wow, that was a first. Michelle was usually allergic to other women, especially pretty ones. Ms Shakespeare didn’t waste time making friends. “Is she single?”

Jess didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. “Has that ever stopped you before?”

Drew turned to Jess, anger bristling under his cool exterior. “I only hit on unattached women. You know that.”

Jess did know it. He’d shared that with her in no uncertain terms. She knew it was an old wound, not completely healed. His Achilles heel, so to speak. She fired an arrow into it. “Is your ex still with your friend?”

Drew ignored Jess. “Call Rowie over.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine.”

Jess caved. “Yes, she’s single. Why?”

“It’s just a question, Jess.”

“Fine.” Jess stared at Rowie. She looked incredible. She’d obviously gone home and changed … into something more comfortable. She was wearing jeans and a funky, flowing green top, her flaming hair loose around her shoulders. Jess suddenly felt uncomfortable in her grey suit that had seemed so right when she saw it at Barneys. Compared to Rowie, she felt stiff and dull. Of course Drew found Rowie attractive. She was beautiful, mysterious … unexplored territory. Drew was a regular Lewis and Clarke when it came to women.

Jess glanced at Drew. He seemed mesmerized by Rowie. She wanted to scream and rage at him for not looking at her like that. Even when Drew was pursuing her, he never looked at her with such obvious admiration. Such fascination. Jess was certain he’d been interested in her simply because she was the one woman at work who didn’t fawn all over him.

They’d shared some great times. It had been the most intense three months of her life. For the first time ever, she’d been swept away by a man. She wasn’t quite sure why he’d ended it, and was devastated when he did. His excuse was they weren’t really compatible … but what did compatibility have to do with love?

And she did love him.

Okay, she’d got a little clingy towards the end, but she couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t go public with their relationship. She wanted him to meet her friends, her family … her therapist. She wanted to tell the whole world about Drew Henderson.

BOOK: Forecast
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