''I Do''...Take Two! (8 page)

He cut the connection and filled in the blanks.

“Brian says he'll be happy to provide any info you want and suggests we join him for drinks and dinner at his hotel this evening around seven.”

“Okay.” She tried to gauge his expression and came up short. “Are you torqued that I want more detail about what you'll be doing? I understand you might be. It's just...”

The waiter appeared at that moment to take their orders. While Travis ordered a glass of red and a small pastry for each of them, Kate listened absently to their orchestra's haunting rendition of the theme from
Somewhere in Time
and tried to order her jumbled thoughts.

“It's just that so much of what you do in special ops is classified,” she said when they were as alone as they could be sitting elbow to elbow with tourists from a half dozen nations. “When you left on a mission, most of the time you couldn't tell me where you were going or who'd be shooting at you. It's not easy to live with that kind of fear and uncertainty.”

“I get that, Kate.” Reaching across the small table, he covered her hands with his. “And I wish I could promise you'll never have to live with either again. Problem is, we can mitigate risk but there's no way to completely avoid it. All we can do is counter its impact with as much happiness as we can cram into our lives.”

He was right. She knew he was right. But she still wanted some data.

* * *

That stubborn determination lasted right up until their vaporetto nosed up to the private dock of Ellis's hotel a little before seven that evening. Like the Palazzo Alleghri, the Gritti Palace had once been home to a nobleman of wealth and elegant taste—His Serene Highness Andrea Gritti, a sixteenth-century doge of Venice, according to the bronze plaque at the canal-side entrance.

The scene that greeted Kate and Travis when they entered the hotel, however, was anything but serene. A small army of black-clad employees had gathered in the lobby. Their expressions reflected deep worry as a team of medics wheeled a gurney out of the elevator. Brian Ellis strode along beside the gurney, looking every bit as grim.

Chapter Seven

“B
rian!”

Ellis jerked his head around, spotted the new arrivals and signaled to the medics to wait.

As Travis and Kate rushed across the lobby, he had the awful thought that something might have happened to the executive's young son. When Ellis shifted to greet them, however, he saw the figure on the padded gurney was that of a woman who looked to be in her late forties or early fifties. Thankfully, she had her eyes open and appeared cognizant of her surroundings.

“What happened?”

“Mrs. Wells tripped.” Ellis laid a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder. “We're hoping her ankle is just sprained, not broken.”

“I can't believe I was so clumsy,” the woman said with a grimace. “You can't imagine how many times I've warned Tommy to watch where he was going!”

“We're on our way to the hospital,” Ellis related. “I'm sorry I didn't have time to call you and cancel dinner.”

“Don't give that a second thought.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Kate asked, turning a sympathetic smile on the other woman. “I'd be happy to come with you if you'd like some female companionship at the hospital.”

“Thank you, dear, but I know Brian will take excellent care of me.” She bit her lower lip. “I'm more worried about Tommy. My silly accident scared him.”

“He'll be fine,” Ellis assured her calmly, then gave Kate and Travis an explanation. “The hotel has sent an assistant manager up to keep him company until we get back.”

He exuded an air of cool confidence, but Travis knew he had to be as concerned as his son's nanny. There was no guessing how long they would have to remain at the hospital for X-rays and medical consults. Travis was about to offer their services as a babysitter when Kate beat him to it.

“Why don't we stay with him? I realize he doesn't know us, but if you call up and tell him you work with Travis, we won't be total strangers.”

Ellis didn't bother with any polite I-don't-want-to-impose-on-you protests. Relief evident in his blue eyes, he nodded. “Thanks. I'll do that.”

Asking the medics to wait one more moment, he strode to the hotel employees gathered by the desk. He spoke a few words to a distinguished-looking gentleman in a black suit and silver-striped tie, then picked up the house phone and asked for his suite.

“This is Brian Ellis,” he told whoever answered. “I appreciate you stepping in to look after my son, but I'm sending some friends up to stay with him until I get back. Yes. Yes, that's right. May I speak to Tommy, please?”

Kate had to admire his calm as he waited for his son to take the phone. Ellis was obviously used to dealing with crises, even those that involved people close to him. This glimpse of the man behind the CEO put a slightly different spin on the fact that Travis would be working with him.

“Hey, buddy, it's Dad. No, we're not at the hospital yet. I'll call you when we get there and know what the story is. In the meantime, I've asked some friends to hang with you while I'm gone. Remember me telling you about Major Westbrook? The C-130 pilot who's testing some new avionics for me at Aviano? He and his wife are on their way up to our suite, okay? Good. Mrs. Wells and I might be a while, so you behave. That means
no
more trying to swim in the canal and
no
bombing passersby with water balloons.”

Kate's brow rose at the instructions, even higher at the one that followed.

“And no pestering Major Westbrook to take you up for a joyride, bud. I've still got the shakes from the last time you took the stick.”

Travis was grinning when Ellis hung up. “He sounds like my kind of kid.”

“Yeah, well, we'll see how you feel about that when I get back,” the kid's dad drawled. “We're in suite 220. Here's my key card, and thanks again for doing this.”

“No problem. Take care of Mrs. Wells and don't worry about anything here. We'll hold the fort.”

Kate wished the older woman a speedy recovery and accompanied Travis to the elevator. “Those were interesting instructions Brian issued,” she commented. “Think we're up to this task?”

“His kid's only six. I've got twenty-five years and probably close to a hundred and fifty pounds on him. Worst case, I'll pin him to the floor while you hog-tie him with the bedsheets.”

Kate laughed, but after hearing some of young Tom's exploits, she couldn't help wondering what kind of mischievous imp they'd be spending the next few hours with.

His temporary babysitter answered their knock and let them into a suite that was larger and even more palatial than their rooms at the Palazzo Alleghri. She could get used to all these gilt-edged antiques and handblown chandeliers, Kate thought as they crossed an intricately inlaid parquet floor to greet their charge.

His hair was a lighter brown than his dad's, and his eyes would have been just as bright a blue if they weren't so worried. When the assistant manager made her exit, the boy's first concern was for his nanny.

“Is Mrs. Wells gonna be okay?”

“We don't know,” Travis answered truthfully. “She didn't look like she was doing too bad when we saw her downstairs, but your dad said they'll have to x-ray her ankle.”

“She's always telling me to not leave my stuff lying around where someone could trip over it, and I didn't. I didn't!”

His cornflower blue eyes took on a bright sheen as he pointed to a raised dining area. The generous space contained a table with seating for eight and a massive cabinet displaying an array of exquisite Venetian goblets, each one a work of art.

“It was that step,” Tommy said, his voice quavering. “We ordered some sp'ghetti for dinner 'cause Dad wasn't gonna be here. Mrs. Wells went to clear my puzzles off the table and missed that step.”

Kate picked up on the subtext instantly. “You haven't had dinner? I bet you're starved.”

His lip quivered. “Kinda.”

“Why don't I check on that order? And if it's okay with you, I'll make it spaghetti for three. We haven't had dinner, either.”

* * *

The three of them managed to consume an entire loaf of garlic bread, colorful caprese salads, heaping bowls of the Gritti Palace's incomparable spaghetti Bolognese, and—for Travis and Tommy—two servings of gelato.

Obviously still on his best behavior, Brian's son insisted on helping clear the table before he assumed an air of cherubic innocence. “Didya ever play ‘Space Zombie'?”

He directed the question to both adults. Travis shook his head, but Kate seemed to recall a spirited match with a young cousin some years ago.

“I think so. It's been a while, though.”

The angelic facade cracked, disclosing an expression of Machiavellian delight. “It's on the hotel's kid channel. Mrs. Wells 'n' me started a game, but she gave up at level three. We could pick it up there, if you want.”

“Okay.”

Shooting Travis a glance that said she knew darn well she was being set up, Kate sat next to her challenger on the luxuriously appointed sofa. Tommy's thumbs worked at warp speed, and mere moments later they were engaged in a life-and-death galactic struggle. When her spaceship exploded for the fifth and final time, Kate groaned and offered Travis her controls.

“Tommy's too good for me. You take him on.”

Gleeful shouts and hoots punctuated the next thirty or forty minutes. Kate tucked her legs under her and hid a smile as her husband did battle with his youthful alter ego.

He and Tommy could have been hatched from the same egg. They were both so exultant when they scored. Neither gave an inch, although it didn't take long for Travis to realize he was out of his league. He was going down in flames for the third time when the house phone jangled.

Kate was closest to the phone and took the call. As she listened to Brian Ellis's terse report, her smile slipped. “Oh, no! I'm so sorry to hear that.”

Her murmur registered instantly with the two males planted in front of the big-screen TV. One assumed a careful expression. The other's face crumpled.

“Yes,” Kate said, her glance zinging to Tommy. “I'll tell him. And no, we don't mind at all.”

She hung up and broke the bad news. “It looks like Mrs. Wells really did some damage. Her ankle is broken in several places, and the X-rays show floating bone fragments, so she'll have to have surgery.”

“Is she gonna die?” Stark fear erupted in Tommy's eyes. “Like my mom?”

Dear God! Kate shot Travis a swift look. She had no idea what had happened to Brian Ellis's wife. But Kate didn't want to offer her son platitudes and assurances he wouldn't believe.

Travis got the message and moved quickly to put a personal spin on the disaster. “I broke my ankle once, too,” he told the frightened boy. “When I was playing basketball in high school. Came down hard the wrong way and felt it pop right there on the court.”

“Did you have surg'ry?”

“Sure did. The docs had to realign the bones and put screws in to hold them stable while the breaks healed. Then I got a cast and had to hobble around on crutches for a month or so afterward.”

“But...” Tommy gulped, tears brimming. “But you weren't old, like Mrs. Wells. Old people don't get well fast. She said so herself.”

“That's true. Mrs. Wells isn't
that
old, though. Not like, uh...” Travis stumbled for a moment to come up with a character the six-year-old could relate to. “Not like Harry Potter's professor at the Hogwarts academy.”

“Professor Dumbledore?” Tommy wasn't convinced but made a reluctant concession. “I guess not.”

“Your dad said he wanted to stay with Mrs. Wells until they decided the best way to handle the surgery,” Kate told the boy. “So Travis and I will hang with you awhile longer, okay?”

“Okay.”

Hoping to distract him, Travis gestured to the TV. “Want to finish our battle? I might be able to come up with a few desperate moves yet.”

“No.” The reply was small and still shaky, but there was no mistaking the noble sacrifice behind his next remark. “I'd better take my bath.”

He paused, and some of his incipient panic gave way to an almost imperceptible craftiness. “Mrs. Wells makes me go to bed at nine. But I can usually watch TV until ten.”

“Usually?” Travis echoed, hiding a smile.

“Sometimes.”

“Well, this might be one of those times. Let's get you in the tub, champ. Then we'll see if there's anything worth watching on TV.”

With the resilience of the young, Tommy perked up instantly. “The kids' channel has lots of movies. I've seen
Frozen
bunches of times but I can watch it again.”

* * *

Kate's phone buzzed while Tommy was torpedoing an array of tub toys under Travis's watchful eye.

“We've decided to take you up on your offer to see Venice,” Callie told her. “If you think we can get a room at the hotel, we'll jump a train tomorrow morning...unless you've changed your mind.”

“Or Travis changed it for her,” Dawn groused in the background.

Dawn wasn't going to forgive Travis anytime soon, Kate acknowledged with a smile. Her friends were mighty, and they were fierce. For maybe the thousandth time since third grade, she realized how lucky she was to have them in her life.

“We'd love to have you join us,” she began. “But—”

“Ha!” Dawn exclaimed. “Told you so!”

“—we've run into a small crisis here,” Kate continued. “Brian Ellis, the man who offered Travis the VP job, brought his young son and the boy's nanny to Italy with him. The nanny tripped a few hours ago and bunged up her ankle. She's at the hospital now and it looks like she'll have to have surgery, so Travis and I volunteered to sit with the boy in the interim. I'm not sure how long our services might be required.”

“We can help,” Callie said with her usual warmhearted generosity. “We'll take an early train to Venice.”

“Do come, but you don't have to do babysitting duty. Travis and I have it covered.”

And doing pretty well with it, too, if the high-pitched giggles emanating from the bathroom were any indication. With a sudden, piercing ache, Kate imagined Travis waging bathtub battles with their son. Or hunkering down to have tea with their little girl and her favorite dolls. Or...

“Let me check to see if there's a room available at our hotel,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I'll call you back.”

She was poking in her purse for the card with the hotel's number on it when the house phone rang. It was Brian Ellis this time, and he started with a gruff apology.

“I'm so sorry to impose on you and Travis like this.”

“We don't mind. Honestly. How's Mrs. Wells?”

“Resting more comfortably now that they've pumped some painkillers into her. Her surgery is scheduled for early tomorrow morning.”

Kate could imagine all the strings he'd had to pull to make it happen so quickly.

“She'll be in a cast and on crutches for at least a month,” he related, “and may need physical therapy after that. So she's decided to fly home as soon as the docs give her a green light and recuperate with her sister in California.”

“When do you think she'll be able to leave Italy?”

“If the surgery goes well tomorrow, she should be okay to travel on Sunday. I've put my private jet on standby.” He paused for several beats. “Tommy's mom died during surgery to remove a brain tumor. He was only a baby, too young to remember the specifics. But he's asked about it enough times that he may freak out over all this.”

His terse account put the pain Kate had experienced since her break with Travis into sharp perspective. Her husband was right, she thought with a crimp in her heart. There
were
no guarantees. And certainly no ways to completely eliminate risk, whether it came from war, earthquakes or brain tumors.