Polished (7 page)

“As I’ll ever be.” He bit down on his cheek, a trick he’d learned from years of pushing past his limits on the mountain. The mountain he could handle. Hell, even pain could be managed. But for Spencer, being engulfed in water was a fear rooted in the wilderness of self-doubt. He understood it, he could even rationalize it, but neither made it any less frightening.

Fuck that shit. He could do this.

The rescuer placed a regulator in Spencer’s hands and showed him how to use it. Then it was time for the brace. He nodded rapidly, hoping they’d hurry up. A simple touch to his leg made him scream through the regulator clenched in his teeth, but they worked fast and had him in the water before his head had stopped spinning.

He slammed his eyes shut tight counting back from fifty. Why fifty? He didn’t know, but it helped him think of something other than being underwater again, no matter the strong swimmers pulling him through it.

As soon as he broke the surface, he saw her. She was bent over the hole with her fingers pressed together in front of her mouth like a little girl saying her bedtime prayers. Rory was so beautiful in that moment, she took his breath away, and for a second there was nothing else.

His hand floated toward her. “Babe…”

“Oh, God,” Rory croaked. She caught his fingers in hers for a fleeting few seconds before the paramedics took over.

“I’m riding in the ambulance,” he heard her say to one of them, matter-of-factly. He recognized that tone. There was no arguing with it. She pressed a kiss to his lips just before they loaded him in. “I love you. I was so scared.”

“You?” Spencer managed a ragged chuckle. “You know how much I dig swimming.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner…” Rory’s voice cracked and the sound of the whimper she swallowed made Spencer want to hold her tight to him and not let go until she was smiling again.

“Shhhh…” he soothed. “I’ll get this ankle patched up and we’ll go home and get in bed and stay there for as long as it takes to forget this whole nightmare.” Suddenly there was a question on his lips. “Where’s Jack?”

Rory straightened and turned to the chaos behind her. There were lots of voices; commands flying from no-nonsense first responders and the pushy press rankling them for access to a grimacing Jack Rothman.

Spencer turned to one of the paramedics as he prepped the stretcher for loading. “Wait,” he said to the balding man in navy blue crouching next to him. “Can you go talk to your buddies over there and get my friend out of here already?” He gestured in Jack’s direction. “The vultures are circling.”

The paramedic paused for a moment, sizing up Spencer with a who-the-hell-do-you-think-you-are scowl on his face, New York style. Rory flashed a thoughtful gaze at Spencer and then at Jack. She tapped the paramedic on the shoulder and crouched next to him, placing herself at eye level.

“Listen, all we’re asking is that you help out with…”

“Jack,” Spencer reminded her.

“Yes, Jack. Help him get off to the hospital. My boyfriend seems to want that. They went through hell down there.”

The bald head nodded and he stood up. “Sure, we can get him shuttled off first, ma’am. Not a problem.”

Rory smiled at Spencer, her eyes soft with concern. “Great,” she said to the paramedic. “And then you’ll come right back and get my boyfriend to the ER?”

“Yes. Be just a few more minutes.”

Spencer clutched her small hand with his big oafish ones. He always hated his hands, so big and clumsy-looking. His precision in both his work and his recreational hobby tempered that unfortunate characteristic in his estimation. But still, he’d never admit to anyone how he sometimes wished he could be seen as suave and fluid instead of rough and rugged. Only Rory saw through his rugged exterior to his heart. When he’d mentioned his desire to see Jack taken care of before himself, she’d known it was something important to him. She didn’t need him to explain. They fit together so well, ebbing and flowing with each other’s moods and quirks. He clutched her small hand and he kissed it through a gentle smile while she nodded in understanding.

Officer Peters arrived at their side. “I was able to get through to your mother, Mr. Hartley.”

Spencer’s face fell at those words. “Who told you to call my mother?”

Officer Peters looked confused at Spencer’s reaction and flashed his eyes at Rory.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I thought you could be…” She bit her lip.

Spencer squeezed her hand and forced a reassuring smile to his face before addressing the officer again. “So, let me guess; she told you she wished she could do something to help.”

Officer Peters tilted his head. “I told her I’d keep her posted.”

“Thanks, Officer. It’ll keep me from having to do it.”

Chapter Six

It wasn’t the questions that bothered him so much. Jack half expected a gang of reporters to be waiting on the scene trying to find out if the subway project—and more specifically, his engineering firm—had anything to do with the water main break. It was the fact that he had to be there to face them alone that had him grinding his teeth to powder.

“What part of ‘no comment’ don’t you fuckers understand?” he grumbled. Fortunately the paramedics had begun to place him in the back of the ambulance. His shoulder screamed out, although the pain was slightly more distant under the influence of the codeine he’d been given.

The doors closed and there was peace. And quiet. Too much quiet, in fact. As he lay there on the stretcher, lolling slightly with the turns of the vehicle, the paramedics sat up front with little chatter between them. He thought to ask them to call his father, but mostly it would be to warn him of the coming onslaught. Jack didn’t want his father’s compassion. He’d learned long ago that compassion was not a fruit of the Rothman family tree. It was a deficit that Jack had tried not to inherit, but so far, he felt like a miserable failure in that regard. It wasn’t a mystery why no one was waiting for him with tear-streaked cheeks at the top of that manhole.

Jack had many acquaintances and just a few less casual playmates on call to satisfy any appetite that struck his fancy, but he hadn’t the audacity to think any of them could be called friends, let alone something more. A self-affirmed man-whore, he was; a hypocrite, he was not, at least not in his personal life. He was blunt and merciless about what his intentions were and were not. He had no intention of falling in love, or getting hurt.

But Jack could admire the love of others from afar. He could appreciate the beauty and joy others found within the embrace of someone they cared for. It wasn’t that his heart was too small to imagine what that could feel like. On the contrary, Jack was deathly afraid his heart was too big to ever be filled. It must be, because he’d never known a day without emptiness. He had resolved long ago that for him a heart full of love was just asking too much.

His thoughts tugged toward Rory and her pretty face peering over him. Her expression had been desperate, aching to see her lover safe and in her arms. Spencer was a special guy, a straight shooter with a pure heart. He deserved her love for all the reasons that Jack didn’t deserve love from anyone.

Even in the harsh glare of the emergency room lights, they were a striking couple. He watched as they approached, Rory warring with her hair as she hurriedly attempted to put it in a ponytail. She smiled suddenly, laughed a little, and squeezed Spencer’s shoulder as he rolled along beside her in a wheelchair. The orderly pushing him didn’t seem to get the joke. Perhaps it had been understood just between them; such intimacy was made stark having been so plainly revealed. The ER was a hellhole, yet those two seemed completely oblivious to anyone else. Spencer couldn’t have been more in love with her. The smile on his face couldn’t have been more alluring. He was just the type of guy Jack couldn’t resist. But seeing him with Rory, he knew that he’d have to ignore his impulses and keep things clean. Clean and simple.

They came closer and Jack averted his eyes. Though he hadn’t heard a word, he felt like an intruder.

“There he is,” Spencer called out in Jack’s direction. The orderly settled Jack in the adjacent examination area and didn’t pull the curtain when Jack gave him a wave and a friendly smile.

“Funny seeing you again,” Jack joked. “Thought you might have had enough male bonding for one day.”

Spencer’s brows knitted together for just a flash. It was long enough for Jack to fear that he’d offended him, but not long enough to think of a remedy. Chest-tightening dread exploded like a bomb without any warning. The last thing he wanted to do was offend Spencer.

But then an easy smile curled Spencer’s lips and Jack was even more surprised with the amount of relief that washed over him—relief closely followed by a touch of panic over just how relieved he’d felt. What the hell was going on? Was he starting to feel something for this guy? He tried to recoup his signature nonchalant aura. “I mean, what else could we possibly talk about?”

Rory stepped toward Jack, sucking her bottom lip just slightly. He wondered if that was something she did when she was feeling nervous or serious. She placed her hand on his stretcher in the space next to his good shoulder. He sensed the impression of her fingers as they squeezed the thin mattress, affirming her sentiment. She crouched next to him. “Thank you,” she said simply.

Jack thought to make another joke, but stopped himself from minimizing her heartfelt words. He smiled weakly into her soft brown eyes. It was hard to look at her. His need to be worthy of her kindness weighed on him like an anchor. But Jack was also a little confused by her words of appreciation. He hadn’t done anything to deserve them. Still, he nodded, and she seemed satisfied with that.

“What’s the verdict on your shoulder?” Spencer asked from behind her.

“Won’t be swinging a golf club anytime soon,” Jack answered, relaxing within the lightness of his tone.

Spencer responded with a hearty laugh. “Yeah, what a shame.”

Jack laughed too and now it was Rory’s turn to look confused. It made Jack feel oddly satisfied to enjoy a private joke with Spencer. He let the moment dangle in the air just long enough to realize it was rude to leave Rory out.

“I hate golf. It’s the lowest form of self-absorption,” Jack explained.

Rory pursed her lips and crinkled her brow. “Why?” she asked, and Jack found himself smiling. No one had ever called him out on his blatant prejudice about the sport of American business nobility. But then again, Rory wasn’t the kind of woman he was used to chatting with. In his experience, smoky eyes rarely registered more than a question about his bank account when he tossed that line over top-shelf martinis. He’d get a raised eyebrow, perhaps, or a tilt of the head, but no real interest as to the reason. But Rory stared back at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

Jack couldn’t help but smile even wider at her. “Because I could easily name ten better ways to use that land than for a bunch of VIPs to run around after a ball. Do you know how many affordable homes you could build on one hundred acres?”

Rory quirked her lip and looked at him quizzically. “Hmm. You’re an interesting dude, Jack Rothman.”

“Not really,” Jack whispered. “Just sounding interesting doesn’t count.”

The attending doctor came in and drew the curtain between the two men. Rory disappeared behind the swishing fabric, and Jack felt an inexplicable disappointment. He listened in as the doctor talked to Spencer about his ankle. Jack offered a silent prayer that the damage wouldn’t be permanent. In the short time he’d gotten to know Spencer, it had been perfectly clear just how important climbing was to him. Jack understood what it meant to be kept from something that brought you happiness, to feel stunted, restricted.

The doctor promised X-rays with a goofy chuckle. “Just to count how many bones he has left,” he said. The joke fell like a stone to the bottom of a well.

Spencer’s voice was tight. “I can hardly even feel my foot. It’s all just a clusterfuck of pain.”

“We’ll see what we’re dealing with soon enough. Try to relax. They’ll be here to take you down to Radiology within the hour.”

Then swish again, as the curtain parted for Doctor One-liner to push his brand of bedside manner on Jack. He prescribed a local anesthetic and talked about gently massaging his shoulder back into place.

Jack nodded and the doctor continued, describing the sling that he’d be given, after which he’d be free to go. “If you don’t have anyone coming to pick you up, you can arrange for a cab at the nurses’ station.”

Jack started to speak, but was cut off by the sudden swish of the curtain.

“We’ll take you home, Jack. If you can wait for Spencer’s cast, that is.” Rory didn’t even apologize for the interruption. Her warm smile said that she didn’t even see why she should.

Jack might have been taken aback by the intrusion—they put the curtain there for a reason, after all—but those shiny eyes said her intentions were nothing but golden and pure and who the hell could be mad at that?

So Jack wasn’t mad, but he had his pride: “Thanks, Rory, but I really don’t want to take you two out of your way. I’ll take a cab and…” Jack patted his pants and cursed his luck.

Rory eyed him and smiled softly. “You lost your keys, huh? Looks like you’re taking a ride home with us up the parkway after all.” She pulled the curtain far enough for him to see Spencer nod in agreement.

“No way we’re leaving you here at this time of night without being able to get into your place. We’ve got a guest room, plenty of space. You’ll figure it out tomorrow.” Spencer seemed quite casual about it, inviting a guy he barely knew to stay over. It was bighearted of him, of them both. It wasn’t often Jack got to see real life big hearts up close. He stared at them as if they were aliens offering blood grafts.

“Unless you can get someone else here to pick you up, I’m not taking no for an answer,” Rory said with her hand on her hip. Jack had seen her do that a few times now, always with the same result. That hip must have secret powers. No one seemed to be able to resist her when she put it to use. He found a smile and gave himself over to her.