Doubtful, thought Shay, but instead she said, “I’m not a morning person, so he’ll be surprised to see me.” She tried to smile, but it just didn’t happen. “Where is he?”
“He should be pulling up any minute in one of the jeeps,” she said. “The plane’s already returned.” She frowned. “Everything okay?”
“Ask me after I talk to Caleb,” she said, and she didn’t wait for an answer. Shay headed to the back door where she could get to the four operating hangars, knowing Caleb’s jeep would pull up behind the first.
She squinted against the new sun piercing the horizon, the air already hot and sticky enough to make her jeans and T-shirt feel overdressed. A jeep appeared in the distance, and Shay tracked its path, noting three men inside.
Caleb parked the jeep with two customers inside. Another jeep barreled up behind it, but Shay looked right through it. She had Caleb in sight, and she suddenly felt hotter than hot, and it had nothing to do with the sun. She was ticked.
Shay charged toward Caleb as he rounded the jeep, and damn him, he looked good enough to eat in his flight suit. Surprise flickered in his face when he saw her, and he murmured something to the men, who headed toward the building.
“We have to talk,” she said, coming almost toe-to toe with him, her chin lifting to allow a good, heartfelt glare. “Now. Today.”
“Then you’ll have to jump. I have several customers waiting.”
“Jump?” she declared, her anger replaced by panic.
From behind, Shay heard, “What’s up, Shay?”
She recognized Kent’s voice before he appeared by their side, dressed in a flight suit to match Caleb’s. Shay cringed. She should have guessed Caleb would bring Kent to jump today.
Caleb answered, “Shay’s jumping.”
“No way are you jumping,” Kent said. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Ryan walked by with several customers on his heels. He gave Shay a nod and waved Kent forward. “If you’re going up with me again, bring your ass on.”
Caleb tugged Shay forward. Shay dug in her heels. “I’m not jumping.”
He turned to her and hugged her close. “Jump with me, Shay.”
There was something about the way he said it, the way he was looking at her, that made her forget Kent might be watching. As if he were asking her for more than a skydiving jump. Her chest tightened. “I’m scared.”
He brushed hair out of her eyes and stared down at her. “I know,” he said. “Maybe one day you won’t be. Maybe one day you’ll be ready to jump.” He released her, and turned and jogged toward the building. And again, Shay stood staring after him. Alone. Trying to understand what had just happened, because she was pretty sure neither of them had been talking about skydiving.
***
THREE EVENINGS LATER, Shay was still at work at seven, having long ago moved to her couch, kicked off her black heels and stacked files on the coffee table for easy access. And with her feet tucked by her side, her black skirt above the knees—modesty of little concern since she’d long ago sent her secretary home and she was alone—she was determined to catch up on paperwork. And if she were honest with herself, which wasn’t exactly her current preference, she was avoiding going home alone—translation: without Caleb—for a few more hours.
At present, though, Shay ended a call with the treatment center Kent would be checking into, his arrangements finalized for a week from Saturday. Eager to share the news, Shay dialed Kent. Disappointingly, he didn’t answer, and she left a detailed message. He was eager to get this behind him, and she wanted him to know he was one step closer. Shay hesitated and considered calling Caleb, but then set the phone down as if burned.
She hadn’t heard from him, not since he’d asked her to jump with him and she’d told him she was scared. Ever since, well…she didn’t know what to say to him, and clearly he didn’t have anything to say to her. She didn’t even remember exactly what she’d planned to say to him when she’d charged up to him and demanded they talk. Something along the lines of “Damn it, why do you get to say when it’s the right or wrong time for us?” At least, she thought that was the general idea. Her mind was too cluttered to be certain. All she knew was she missed him. And she was, indeed, scared, and she wasn’t even completely sure why.
The idea of figuring it out had Shay snatching a file to read. She would not think about Caleb. She’d get her work done. It was the strategy that had gotten her past the last few days. It would get her through tonight. Exhaustion certainly helped lessen the pain of sleeping alone in a bed with his scent all over it.
Not ten minutes later though, her phone rang. Assuming it was Kent, she answered without checking caller ID.
“Doc,” came the male sob.
Shay sat up straight, the file in her lap tumbling to the ground. “What’s wrong, George?”
“I want to see Jessie again,” he said, referring to his dead wife.
Shay went completely still, realizing George was no longer happy, and he was absolutely not okay. Her worst fear had come true. Something in this new relationship had gone horribly wrong. “Jessie is with you, George,” she said. “Remember we’ve talked about this. Jessie is watching out for you.”
“I don’t want her to watch me anymore,” he said, and this time it was clear he was crying. “I want to touch her and hold her and smell the scent of her on my skin. I need her. I’m going to see her.”
Shay stood up and struggled to get her shoes on, admitting that George had reverted to a dangerous emotional place she’d hoped they were long past. “George,” she said urgently. “Are you at home? Where are you? I’ll come to you.”
“The Hyatt Regency downtown,” he said. “On the roof.” He hung up.
Shay ran for her purse and keys and dialed information as she headed to the hallway. She took the stairs for speed and cell-phone reception, and asked the customer service rep at the Hyatt for the manager of the hotel.
“What’s this regarding?” the woman asked.
“It’s an emergency,” she said. “I’m a doctor. One of my patients is there, and…” She stopped. She had no way of knowing if George was really suicidal. And alerting the police might not be the best option. She had a close colleague who’d once had a patient threaten to kill himself. He’d hidden in a field of high grass with a rifle. Her colleague had called the police, and the patient had pulled the trigger when one of the cops was in the grass a few feet from finding him. To this day, that colleague was convinced that calling the police had pushed her patient over the edge. Shay hung up the phone, sick to her stomach with the possibility that it was the wrong choice not to alert the hotel.
“They’d have called the police,” she whispered. At the bottom of the stairwell, she ran to her car and didn’t even wait for the car to stop before she switched from Reverse and slammed it in forward gear. She jerked into motion and fretfully contemplated her options.