Fool's Gold (Contemporary Romance) (11 page)

O
NE
 week flowed into the next, and the routine of work, Trent and failed auditions set in as Thanksgiving approached. Christine still insisted that Victoria stay in her apartment, but she was letting Victoria pay half the rent.

Victoria had a cold again, and was going through the restaurant’s tissues by the box. She found herself a place to sit on a bag of rice in the storeroom and tried to find the energy she needed to finish the night. The cold air in the storeroom was helping. A little. Her manager found her after she’d been sitting for a few minutes.

“Strauss, you feeling alright?” Carla was a lifer. Mid-40s and knew the restaurant inside and out. Could even cook when she had to.

“I’ll live.” It came out a nasal whine that was practically a Jersey accent.

“You sound like hell, kid.” Carla patted her on the shoulder in that motherly way she had. “How about you cut out early, huh? I’ll cover your tables and whatever you make will just go on your account.”

“I can stay, Carla.” Victoria sneezed into her hand. Now she was going to have to wash them again. “Really, it’s just a cold.”

“Look, kid,” Carla sat beside her on the edge of the pallet, “it’s not just about you. I mean, I want you to get better, but I can’t have you sneezing out on the floor. Customers’ll start thinking you sneezed in their food.”

Victoria hung her head. “I know. I just need the money is all.”

“I know you do. Have you been to see a doctor? Whatever you’ve got has been lingering a while.”

No, she definitely had not been to a doctor. Doctors cost money, and it wasn’t like the restaurant was giving her health insurance. Victoria shook her head.

“Well, think about it. I’m going to take you off the schedule for the weekend. Get some rest and get to feeling better, okay?”

Victoria squeezed her hands into fists. “Okay.”

Carla patted her on the shoulder one last time, then went back out to the restaurant, leaving Victoria alone with the smell of flour and potatoes. Victoria kneaded her forehead with her knuckles. If she couldn’t stay at work, she could head home to the apartment she shared with Christine, but Christine was back on the road, so it was going to be a lonely night. That didn’t sound fun at all.

Victoria made her way to the tiny break room on the other side of the kitchen. She got her wallet and her phone out of her locker and stuffed the apron into it. Then she sent Trent a text, checking to see if he was home. He had mentioned working late again, but... she checked the clock. It was only nine.

He could respond while she walked to his apartment, or she could just surprise him when he got home. The surprise sounded more fun. Maybe greet him with a glass of wine and a smile. And not a stitch of clothes. If that didn’t cheer her up, nothing would.

She went out the back door of the restaurant with a spring in her step for the first time in a week.

***

Trent hadn’t responded by the time she reached his building. The doorman gave her a nod as he let her inside. The marble floors in the lobby were shined to a mirror-like sheen. Victoria had a feeling it was so the dirty old men that lived in the building had a convenient surface for sneaking peaks up women’s skirts. The joke was on them, though. Most of the women in the building were over fifty.

She used her key in the elevator and rode up to the 37
^th
floor. In the hallway she checked her phone again, but Trent hadn’t responded. Probably had meetings with China. Whatever the deal in Omaha had been, he was working on a new one in China that was supposed to dwarf the other. The downside was that he had to work late a ton to account for the time zone difference.

Victoria knocked once before she unlocked the door, just in case he was home and in the shower or something. When she came through the front door, Trent was coming out of the bedroom buttoning his shirt. He glanced up and saw her.

His face turned ashen for a second, then he broke into a smile. His stubble was trimmed low like it normally was in the morning or before they went out.

“Hey, Vicks. What a surprise.” He stopped in the doorway from the bedroom and let his hands fall to his sides. The top three buttons of his shirt were still undone.

Victoria smiled back at him. Something was off about Trent, but she couldn’t put a finger on it. “I tried to text you and tell you I got off early, but--“

A woman walked out of Trent’s bedroom.

“Hi. Sorry, to disturb you.” Her blonde hair was in utter disarray and her dress was wrinkled. She slipped around Trent and marched straight past Victoria without meeting her eyes.

Victoria turned to watch, too shocked to even speak. The other woman let herself out without another word.

Victoria turned back to Trent. “Who was THAT?”

“Jennifer. My interior designer.”

“Your designer? What was she designing? The inside of her vagina?” Rage filled her, clouding her vision. She stalked toward him, her hands shaking. “I’m getting my stuff. We’re done.”

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down. You’re getting the wrong idea, Victoria. Nothing happened here. I was thinking of redoing the living room, and she was available to come by.”

Victoria stopped in front of him, looked up into his steely grey eyes. “An innocent woman doesn’t slink out like that.” She wanted to slap him. Oh, how she wanted to slap him. Instead, she turned on her heel and marched back toward the door. He could just keep her toothbrush.

She stopped with a hand on the doorknob and spoke without looking back, “We’re through.”

***

The anger ebbed out in a rush while she was sitting on the train. She blew her nose into a wad of tissue and tried to pretend that her eyes were watering from the cold she had, and not from what had just happened. Was five months together too short of a time to think they were exclusive? She certainly was. They hadn’t ever talked about it, but she kept a toothbrush and a set of pajamas at his place. Didn’t that mean something?

Victoria stumbled into her apartment in a daze. It was cold and dark and cheerless. She collapsed onto her futon, not even bothering to undress.

An hour or so later she woke to knocking on the door. Her chest constricted with fear. There was no good reason anyone would be knocking this late at night. She grabbed her pepper spray and looked out the peephole.

Trent stood on the side.

Victoria opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

He held out a massive bouquet of roses. He had a bottle of wine tucked under his arm. “I’m sorry, Victoria. I didn’t want to wait until morning. You mean too much to me.”

She stared at him in shock. He was coming to apologize? At midnight? “I... Uh...”

“Can I come in?”

She backed up and let him past.

“Look, I wasn’t entirely honest with you. Jennifer was my interior designer, but we had a thing once upon a time. She just showed up out of nowhere and she was begging me to take her back. I tried to explain about you and I tried to make her leave but... I’m weak. She started crying and then I couldn’t make her leave and then one thing led to another and... I’m sorry. So sorry.”

He sniffled, his back heaving. “It’ll never happen again. I promise.”

Victoria didn’t know what to say. He lied and he cheated, but then he admitted it and apologized. She was just so tired, she didn’t have the strength to argue. “Okay. I need--“

She started coughing, and a pain unlike anything she’d ever felt lanced through her chest. Her knees wobbled, then the floor rushed up and punched her in the face.

***

Victoria woke with Trent crouched beside her, talking on his phone. “She just passed out. Fever it feels like. Chills. Okay, I’ll take her.”

He pushed the hair out of her eyes. “Victoria, that was 911. They said to get you to the hospital.”

“Okay,” she whispered. It hurt to even talk.

“I think you have the flu.” He scooped her up and laid her on the sofa. “I’m calling a cab.”

Half an hour later he carried her into the ER.

N
URSE 
Sherry had an ass like a battering ram, and she wasn’t afraid to use it as a weapon. She swung her hips side to side as she backed up, pulling Victoria’s wheelchair through the crowded waiting room. The other patients gave her space, and the younger nurses and the orderlies all stayed well clear of her.

“Now sweetheart, I’m going to take you back to an exam room. You sit tight and Dr. Bower will be in to see you just as soon as he can.” Automatic doors swung open and Sherry reversed their positions, pushing Victoria down the hallway rather than pulling her.

“Okay.” Victoria’s hands felt like lead. She just wanted to go to sleep, but Sherry wouldn’t let her.

Featureless doors swept past on either side. Plain wood with numbers on the trim. They rounded a corner, nearly bowling over a girl in candy-stripe scrubs, then stopped at a door marked twenty-five.

Sherry pushed Victoria inside and stopped her next to a cart with a blood pressure cuff hanging off one side. The nurse was helping Victoria up onto the exam bed when Victoria realized that Trent was gone. “Where’s... where’s my...”

“Your boyfriend?”

Victoria nodded.

“Oh sweetie, he had to leave. He stayed with you right up until we took you back, but since he’s not family, I couldn’t let him back here.” Sherry squeezed Victoria’s shoulder. “I think he was going on home. I told him that you’d be staying the night for sure.”

A cough shook Victoria, but she thanked the nurse, anyway.

Sherry took her blood pressure and drew a vial of blood. She gave Victoria a small plastic cup. “If you cough up anything, I need to get a sample, okay?”

“Alright.” Victoria inspected the cup. It looked like the sort of thing a urine sample would go in.

Sherry helped her lay back on the bed. The paper crinkled beneath her as she moved. Sherry left her alone, a burst of sound wafting through the open door as she left and closed it behind her.

Humorless walls enclosed Victoria on four sides. A couple posters hung crookedly.

An admissions nurse came in to get her payment information, but it was a blessedly short conversation. The nurse took Victoria’s lack of insurance in stride, assuring her that the hospital saw plenty of patients without it. It didn’t make Victoria feel any better to be officially poor.

Her coughs shook the paper again. Each heave sent pain through her, and the gurgling sound coming out of her chest had her worried. Whatever it was she had, it was more than a cold. She spit a glob of mucus into the cup and sealed it, setting it aside for Sherry or the doctor or whoever wanted it.

Dr. Bower came in what felt like a year later. Victoria had lost concept of time. He was short, balding and had a long beak of a nose. He stood in the middle of the room, a clipboard held before him. “Ms. Strauss?”

“Yes.” Even whispering took all the energy she could muster.

“I need to listen to you breathe. Can you sit up for me?”

She tried to lift herself normally, but only made it a few inches before collapsing back onto the pillow. Her stomach knotted with pain at the effort.

“Go on and sit up, please.” The doctor tapped his foot impatiently.

What was wrong with him? Couldn’t he see she was trying? Anger gave her just enough fuel to wedge her elbows against the bed and lever her way up. She panted once she was vertical.

The doctor brusquely checked her breathing, clucking to himself as he did it. “We’ll send the blood and sputum samples to the lab to confirm, but I think you have pneumonia. I’m going to get some fluids in you and get a course of antibiotics going.”

“Okay.” She wobbled, then collapsed back onto the pillow.

Dr. Bower frowned, but at least he didn’t ask her to sit up again. “You’ll probably be in here for a few days. It depends on how your body reacts. I’ll send in the nurse to get you a room upstairs.”

Victoria studied the tiles on the ceiling until her eyes wouldn’t stay open any longer. 

T
HE
 ceiling fan turned slowly overhead, and from his position on his mom’s sofa, Beta could see every lazy rotation. It was mesmerizing, and between the fan and the deep rumble of Chuckles’ purring where he lay on Beta’s chest, Beta could temporarily forget that he was jobless and living with his parents.

His phone rang as he lay there, vibrating wildly on the coffee table. He squinted at the screen a moment and then answered. “This is Beta.”

“Beta, it’s Charlotte. I’ve got some bad news.” She didn’t bother waiting for him to ask what it was, instead blurting, “Victoria’s in the hospital in New York. I just got off the phone with her.”

Beta sat up straight on the couch, sending Chuckles rolling to the floor where he glared back up at the sofa. “What’s wrong? What happened? Did she get mugged?”

“No, not mugged. She has pneumonia. She went to the ER last night and they committed her. They’re keeping her for a few days.”

Beta stood up, wobbly at first, and paced across the room with his phone pressed against his ear. He stopped at the picture window that looked out onto the front yard. “Is Trent staying with her?”

“No.”

“Christine?”

“She doesn’t have anyone.”

“What do you mean? She has a boyfriend. She lives with my sister.”

“Christine is on the road. Trent left last night after he dropped her off.”

Beta’s heart sank at that comment. If Trent was dropping her off late at night, it was probably-- No, better not to even think about why they were together. He took a deep breath. “What about her mom?”

“She can’t afford to make the trip. And I don’t think Victoria really wants her there, anyway.” Charlotte sighed. “I’d go if I could. You know that. But I can’t leave my mom. So I was thinking maybe you could call your friend that lives up there and see if he could stop by? I’m sure it would mean a lot to her to know that someone cares.”

“The hell with that--I’ll go myself. Thanks for letting me know, Charlotte.”

“You don’t need to do that, Beta. I know you’re out of a job.”

“So? If Victoria needs me, I’m there. End of story.”

“Beta, you’re a real sweetheart, but one last thing.”

“What?”

“Take it easy on the boyfriend topic. She’s a little upset with him right now.”

The despair that had settled in his stomach lifted a fraction. “Of course.” He hung up and turned away from the window.

“You’re going where?” His mother stood in the entryway between the living room and kitchen with her hands on her hips.

“New York. Victoria is in the hospital with pneumonia.”

His mom shuddered. “Benjamin, that’s not a good idea. I know you still fancy her, but she’s not the kind of girl you need in your life.”

Beta stooped mid-stride and stared at her incredulously. “Excuse me? She’s my friend. She’s hurt and she’s in the hospital and no one else can go be with her, and you’re telling me she’s a bad influence?”

“Well, not just her.” His mother shook her head. “New York is full of queers and drug addicts. It’s just not a nice place for a young man.”

His father came and stood behind Beta’s mother. He looked on, frowning.

Beta closed his eyes, not believing what he was hearing. “Really? Queers and drug addicts? When’s the last time you were in the city, Mom?”

“Before you were born.”

He opened his eyes, shook his head. “That’s what I thought.”

“She’s right, Benjamin.” His father took a step forward. “New York isn’t a good city for Christian folks. You belong here. I’m sure your mother can talk to Sister Francis and see if Jenny has the evening free.”

Beta shook his head. “I’m going.” He brushed past them and headed down the hall.

“How will you pay for your trip, young man?” His mother called down the hall after him. “I know you don’t have any money. Your father and I will not condone you running halfway across the country to see some trollop.”

Beta stopped in the doorway to his bedroom. “Listen to yourselves. You preach about helping people in need, but when push comes to shove, you tell me I can’t go? Guess what? You’re not my boss anymore. I’m twenty-three and--“

“As long as you live under my roof,” his father’s voice raised, almost to a shout, “then I
am
your boss, young man. My house. My rules.”

“Then I’m out. Goodbye. I’ll go live with Christine. She’s got a sofa.”

His mother gasped. “You wouldn’t just ignore us and run out.”

“If I’m running anywhere, it’s because you’re forcing me to do it.” He went into his room and started throwing clothes into his suitcase. Chuckles wandered in after a few minutes and hopped up onto Beta’s old bed.

“Chuckster, we’re going on a road trip, buddy. I hope you like airplanes.”

“I’m not giving you money for a plane ticket.” His father stood in the doorway, a disapproving look on his face.