Meet Mr. Prince Read online

Page 15


  But it would be selfish to call the girls. She sighed, then brightened a bit. She could at least call Georgie. Georgie was thousands of miles away, so there was no danger she’d come barreling over to the hospital.

  Cornelia rooted through her purse and pulled out her cell phone.

  “Oh, Zach, I’m so glad you phoned,” Sabrina said. “I’ve been sitting here hoping I’d hear from you this morning.”

  “This is the first chance I’ve had to call you.”

  “What happened with Katie last night?”

  Zach sighed. “Not a helluva lot. Trouble is, she took an instant dislike to Georgie. She immediately saw Georgie as some kind of threat. I didn’t tell you about it because…” Why hadn’t he told Sabrina about that first encounter? “Because I was uncomfortable thinking it. I told myself she would have been upset to see me with another woman no matter who the woman was. I told myself she’s just a child and she was imagining something that wasn’t there.”

  It felt so good to unburden himself, Zach decided to be completely honest. “Truth is, Katie sensed something I hadn’t even sensed myself.” He then repeated that first conversation with Katie, how she’d asked if he was going to marry Georgie, how she’d wanted him to promise he wouldn’t get married again.

  “Oh, Zach,” Sabrina said softly when he’d finished.

  In those two words, Zach knew his sister understood everything.

  “Tell me something, Zach,” Sabrina said after a long moment of silence. “Are you in love with Georgie?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered wearily. “I think I might be.”

  “If you were free—totally free—would you pursue a relationship with her?”

  Again, in that uncanny way they often communicated without words, he knew Sabrina understood the doubts and guilt that plagued him, the way he now second-guessed everything he did and said when it came to his kids and their welfare and future.

  Zach pictured Georgie, the way she probably looked right this minute, how vulnerable she seemed now that she was trapped in that wheelchair. He pictured the way she’d looked the day he met her. He thought about her confidence, her intelligence, her quick laughter, her sense of humor. He thought about the way she related to Jeremy and Emma, how they had already bonded with her. He thought about how kind she was, how much she cared about the work they did, the people they helped. “Yes,” he said, “I’d pursue her.” He’d grab onto her and not let go.

  “So you have fallen in love with her.”

  “But Sabrina, don’t you think that’s crazy? I’ve only known Georgie two weeks! I haven’t so much as kissed the woman.”

  “So? I knew Peter was the one for me the moment I met him. Love doesn’t know rules, Zach. Love doesn’t say you have to date a person X number of times or kiss them X number of times or anything else. Better minds than ours have tried to explain it. But the bottom line is, love is just…love.”

  Georgie jumped when her intercom buzzed.

  “Georgie, your mother’s on the line,” Deborah said.

  Was her mother a mind reader? Georgie wondered as she punched the extension. “Hi, Mom. I was just trying to decide if it was too early to call you.” She forced her voice to sound upbeat.

  “Hi, honey.”

  Her mother’s voice sounded tired. Georgie frowned. Her mother was a morning person—always cheerful and eager to face the day. “Are you okay? You’re not sick, are you?”

  “No, I’m not sick.”

  “Then what is it? I can tell something’s wrong.”

  “I have some bad news.”

  Georgie swallowed. “What?”

  “It’s Harry. He…he’s had another heart attack, and this time they found a serious blockage. He’s having bypass surgery right now.”

  “Oh, Mom. But he’ll be all right, won’t he?”

  “I don’t know. I hope so. We all hope so.”

  “Where are you? Are you at the hospital?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not alone there, are you?”

  “No, of course not. All the boys are here…and their wives.”

  Georgie almost smiled at “the boys.” She guessed Alex and his brothers would be “the boys” to her mother even when they were in their fifties and sixties, just as she and her sisters would always be “the girls.”

  “Are you okay?” Georgie asked gently.

  “I’m doing all right. I—I just wanted to talk to one of my girls.”

  “You mean you haven’t talked to any of the others?”

  “No, I don’t want them to feel they have to come running over here. They’re all so busy, Georgie, you know that.”

  They talked for several more minutes, with Georgie reassuring her mother that Harry would be fine and getting her to promise she would call back the moment he was out of surgery and they knew anything more.

  “I love you, Mom,” Georgie said then. “Try not to worry. I’m sure he has the best doctors in Seattle and he’ll be fine. Uncle Harry’s tough. Remember that.”

  It was only after the call was over and her mother was no longer on the line that Georgie allowed herself to think of what her mother’s call meant to her own situation.

  Her mother could not come to New York.

  Georgie would have to cope on her own.

  And she could see no good way to get out of staying at Zach’s apartment until she was mobile again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Trying not to think about Georgie and how she’d barely spoken to him since they’d left the apartment that morning, Zach placed his call to Katie’s counselor as soon as his interview was over. A minute later he had Celeste Fouchet on the phone.

  “Has Katie tried to see you this morning?” he asked.

  “No, why? Did something happen?”

  “I’m afraid so.” He went on to explain yesterday’s drama and his subsequent attempts to talk to Katie. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. “I feel I shouldn’t allow her to behave the way she did last night, no matter what prompted it. It’s not acceptable to be rude to guests in our home. Is that expectation unreasonable?”

  “No, Mr. Prince, it’s not unreasonable,” the counselor said. “I agree with you. However, we both know how frightened Katie must be. She obviously views this coworker of yours as a threat of some kind.”

  Zach sighed heavily. “I know. The first time she met Miss Fairchild, she asked me if I was going to marry her.”

  “I see. Are her feelings justified?”

  Zach didn’t resent the question or feel the counselor was out of line to ask it. He’d told her in the beginning, when she’d first begun working with Katie, that she could feel free to ask him anything that might help her determine how best to help his daughter. “Let’s put it this way,” he said quietly. “If I didn’t have Katie’s emotional welfare to worry about, I would be more than a little interested in a relationship with Miss Fairchild. And Katie obviously sensed that.”

  The counselor was silent for a long moment. When she spoke again, her voice was thoughtful. “I’ll send for Katie after her lunch period is over. See if she’ll open up to me. I’ll get back to you later this afternoon, but I know you understand that, with very few exceptions, I can’t divulge anything she’s said to me in confidence.”

  Zach felt better when they’d hung up. Having someone he could turn to, someone who was trained to work with troubled kids, was a huge relief. Because no matter how much he loved Katie and wanted to help her return to the secure and happy child she’d once been, he was always afraid he would do or say the wrong thing and undermine the progress she’d already made.

  Getting up, he opened his door. And just as he did, Georgie’s door opened across the hall. She seemed startled to see him standing there. And he was startled to see her using her crutches.

  “Do you need help?” he said. “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Does your ankle hurt? Maybe you should stay in the w
heelchair today.”

  “I said I’m fine, Zach.”

  He flinched at the edge to her voice. He couldn’t seem to do a thing right today.

  By now, Deborah had walked out into the hall, too. She’d probably heard the clump of the crutches on the tile floor. “Where are you going, Georgie?”

  Georgie’s face was stony. “I’m going to the bathroom.” Then, before Deborah or Zach could say anything else, she said, “I have to get used to doing things myself. I can’t stay at Zach’s apartment indefinitely.”

  Zach knew nothing he said would erase the expression in her eyes, the one that told him she was almost as unhappy as his daughter. As both he and Deborah watched Georgie’s awkward progress down the hall toward the restroom, Zach wondered how it was he had made both the daughter he loved and the woman he wished he had the right to love so miserable.

  “Dad is doing well, but he’s weak and groggy and can only communicate with grunts.”

  Again, the messenger was Gray, who had just come from the recovery room where Harry would be kept until they could safely remove the tube in his throat. Cornelia had been on pins and needles as she waited to hear what Gray had to say. To minimize risk of infection, he had been the only one of Harry’s sons allowed to go into the recovery room after the surgery was over. Harry’s other boys and their wives had kept vigil with Cornelia in the waiting area.

  Gray smiled at her. “I did tell him you were still here, and he lit up like a Christmas tree.”

  Cornelia bit her lip. Now that the surgery was successfully completed, she felt like crying. She knew the long hours of stress had finally caught up with her, and she fought what she considered weakness.

  “I also asked him who he wanted to see first when he finally gets to go to his room, and without saying a word, he let me know it was you, Cornelia.”

  Cornelia could no longer hold back her tears. And when Harry’s lovely boys and their beautiful wives surrounded her in a group hug, with lots of pats on the back, she finally felt that maybe, just maybe, everything might still turn out all right.

  It was nearly five o’clock before Celeste Fouchet called Zach back. “I’m sorry, Mr. Prince, that it’s taken so long to get back to you.”

  “Did you get a chance to talk to Katie?”

  “Yes, I was able to switch another appointment and see Katie during her afternoon study period.”

  Zach knew the headmistress would have okayed Katie missing a class, if necessary, but he was glad that it hadn’t been.

  “At first, Katie didn’t want to talk about what happened last night. In fact, she was upset that you’d called me.”

  Zach wasn’t surprised.

  “I told her that, as always, whatever she wanted to tell me would be confidential, between me and her, and that I would only tell you what she had given me permission to tell you.”

  “I realize that,” Zach said.

  “And what I can tell you is that you are correct in your assumptions about the root of Katie’s antipathy toward your assistant. Katie’s also given me permission to tell you that she knows she behaved badly, and she has promised me she will apologize to Miss Fairchild this evening.”

  Zach guessed he shouldn’t have hoped for more. Yet he had. “After talking to Katie, do you have any advice for me?”

  “Actually, I do. Despite behavior to the contrary, Katie shows signs that she’s almost ready to move on. I think she’s really tired of being sad all the time, but she hasn’t known how to let go of that sadness. I think it’s actually quite healthy that she’s now showing some anger and acting out instead of keeping everything bottled up inside. That tells me if you’re patient a little while longer, she just might surprise you.”

  Georgie wasn’t sure she’d be able to manage another evening of chaotic emotions bubbling under the surface. So when Zach suggested she might like to rest awhile before dinner, she leaped at the suggestion. She even managed to smile at him.

  “I’ll ask Fanny to bring you some ice for your ankle,” he said.

  He really was such a good guy. She felt ashamed that she’d snapped at him today. Her only excuse was that she wasn’t herself right now, and her ankle was hurting. In fact, it was killing her. Not only would she ice it, but she would take a couple of the pain pills the doctor had given her. If she were lucky, she thought ruefully, maybe she’d fall asleep and not wake up till it was time for her to go home.

  She had just taken off her shoes and put a pillow under her ankle when there was a knock at the door. “Yes?” she called.

  The door opened a crack, and Katie stuck her head around. “Miss…Fairchild?”

  “Hello, Katie.”

  “M-may I come in?”

  Georgie’s voice softened. The child was scared. “Of course, honey.”

  Katie entered and closed the door behind her.

  Georgie tried not to look surprised.

  “I wanted to talk to you,” Katie said. She still hadn’t met Georgie’s eyes. “I—I wanted to apologize.”

  Georgie almost said, “For what?” but stopped herself just in time. “Thank you. I accept your apology.”

  Katie looked down, toed one ballet-flat-clad foot.

  Georgie’s heart twisted. She wished she had the right to fold Katie in her arms and tell her she would never do anything to hurt her. “Katie,” she said softly, “I know how you feel.”

  Katie’s head jerked up, and her dark eyes flashed. “You don’t know how I feel.”

  “Maybe not exactly, but my father died when I was twelve.” Without warning, a lump formed in Georgie’s throat.

  Katie stared at her. “He did?” she finally said.

  Georgie nodded. “Yes. So I can at least guess how you might feel. At least, I know how sad and scared I felt at the time.”

  Katie didn’t answer. Instead, she walked over to the window and looked out. Georgie waited. She’d worked with kids enough to know they would talk to you on their terms. You couldn’t force them. She was glad for the moment of reprieve, anyway. It allowed her to get hold of her emotions.

  “I don’t want my dad to get married again,” Katie said, still without turning away from the window.

  “I know.”

  Katie finally looked at her again. She seemed to consider, then blurted out, “Did your mom get married again?”

  Georgie shook her head. “No. But after a while I wanted her to.”

  Katie’s gaze was unblinking.

  Georgie knew the child didn’t believe her. “I wanted a dad so badly. My mom was great, but I wanted a dad to come to my soccer games and take me out sailing like my best friend’s dad did.”

  “I—I want my mom to go shopping with me like Meredith’s mom does.”

  Oh, honey, I wish I could take you shopping. But what I wish more is that I could take the hurt away. “I did have an uncle that I loved, though,” Georgie said, keeping her voice matter-of-fact. “He was kind of like a dad, except he wasn’t there all the time, like a dad is. I missed that. A lot.” Georgie figured that explaining Harry’s actual relationship to their family wasn’t necessary. “That best friend I told you about? Her dad was really cool, and sometimes…I’d pretend he was my dad.” Georgie hadn’t thought about that in a long time, much less admitted it to anyone.

  Katie swallowed. “I have an aunt.”

  “Yes, I know, your aunt Sabrina.”

  Katie nodded, looked away again.

  Georgie’s heart felt sore. Zach’s daughter looked so vulnerable, so raw. If only Georgie could think of what to say to help her.

  After a long, long moment, Katie turned back to Georgie. Her eyes were desolate. “Why do people have to die?” she whispered, her bottom lip trembling. “Moms shouldn’t die.”

  Georgie felt her eyes filling. She didn’t try to stop them. This was the time for honesty. “All of us have to die sometime, honey. I know your mom didn’t want to leave you, but she couldn’t help it. She was sick.”

  Katie nodded again. “Tha
t’s what everybody says.”

  “It doesn’t help, does it?”

  Katie shook her head. Another long moment passed, during which the only sounds were of the traffic below and a clock chiming the hour from somewhere in the apartment. When Katie met Georgie’s gaze again, she was more composed, her mask once again in place. “I’m sorry your ankle got hurt.”

  “Thank you.” Georgie wasn’t sure if they’d passed some kind of milestone or not. The child was too accustomed to covering up her emotions.

  “But I still don’t want my dad to get married again.”

  Georgie’s heart ached as she watched Katie walk out of the room.

  It was nine o’clock Monday evening before Harry’s doctors pronounced him ready for short visits with his family. But only one at a time. When Dr. Kedar gave them the go-ahead, he added that Harry wished to see Cornelia first.

  Earlier in the day, Cornelia had been persuaded to allow Walter to take her home briefly so that she could shower and change into fresh clothes, so at least she felt she looked as good as she could when she walked into Harry’s private alcove in the CCU.

  Her heart skipped when she got her first glimpse of him. Harry, big, strong, powerful Harry, looked so out of place in the hospital bed, with all those beeping machines and tubes and wires. But his dark eyes, which nothing seemed to dim, gleamed at her as she approached.

  “Cornelia, there you are,” he said, his voice raspy and weaker than she’d ever heard it.

  She imagined his throat hurt from that breathing tube they’d inserted during the bypass surgery. “Hello, Harry.” She grasped his left hand and bent over to kiss his cheek. He smelled like hospital.

  He squeezed her hand. “Always so beautiful.”

  Cornelia shook her head. “And, as always, you’re full of baloney.”

  He grinned, and in that moment, looked like the Harry of old. “What I’m full of is drugs.”

  She smiled. “Are you in pain?”

  “Not right this minute. But if I try to move, or cough, it’ll be like somebody stickin’ knives in me.” His expression became serious. “I’m sorry about all this, Corny.”