Margot’s hand jumps to cover her mouth. “Oh my god.”
“She deserves a medal for catching one of the bad guys.” He shoots me a megawatt smile.
“Juliet.” Margot takes my hand. “You’re so brave.”
I want her to believe that. I want her to see that in me because I know she values courage more than almost anything else.
“What about the woman he mugged?” she questions me. “Is she all right?”
“She’s fine,” Dr. Fuller answers. “She’ll be a little sore for a day or two and might sport a few bruises, but thankfully, her arm broke her fall, so she’s good. She’s really good.”
“I’m confused,” I confess to Dr. Fuller when Margot leaves the exam room to order an Uber.
“Confused as in you don’t know your name or…”
“Confused as in why didn’t you tell my sister the whole story?”
He offers a hand for me to slide off the exam table. “What part did I leave out?”
I take his hand to stand. “You know what part.”
“Do I?”
I look up at his face. “You do.”
“The paramedic explained what the mugger told him when he was checking him out for injuries.” He motions to my hands. “You tied him up with your scarf. You were hurt in that scuffle. My cousin backed that story up.”
“He did?”
“They got a full confession out of the guy at the police station,” he goes on, “I suspect you’re talking about the identity of the woman he accosted.”
I nod in silence.
“Your sister was scared,” he says quietly. “I was outside the room when she arrived. I heard the fear in her voice. I sense she’d take it a lot harder if she knew you were the woman he mugged.”
“She would.”
“It’s not my place to tell her that you defended yourself like a champ because he was trying to nab your purse.” He looks down at the tablet in his hands. “If and when you think she needs to know that, you’ll tell her, but that’s between the two of you.”
Still confused as to why he keeps saying I took down the mugger myself, I sigh.
“New York City is a great place.” He smiles. “A few assholes are lurking about, but for the most part, the rest of us are the cream of the crop. Do what you need to do to put this behind you. If you’d like to speak to someone about it, I can recommend one of the best.”
I smile, grateful that he’s intuitive enough to know the impact that today had on me. “Thank you, but I’ll be all right. I’m resilient.”
“You’re also someone I’d want coaching me in a boxing ring.” He laughs. “Pop a couple of ibuprofen later if you need them to help ease the head pain.”
“I will.”
“Other than that, you’re good to go.” He pats my forearm. “Take care of yourself and anyone else who needs it.”
I let out a squeak of a laugh. “I’ll try my best.”
Chapter Five
Juliet
An hour later, I take a seat on the edge of my bed and let the weight of the last few hours settle over me.
As soon as we got home from the hospital, Margot insisted on making me a cup of tea.
I don’t drink tea. She does.
To appease her anxiety, I dutifully sipped from the mug of green tea she prepared for me. I would have preferred a tequila shot, but I knew, deep in my heart, that my sister felt a need to take care of me.
She made small talk about her work and the weather and then retold a story about the first dog we ever owned.
It’s her go-to when she’s overwhelmed.
She’ll retreat to a childhood memory that comforts her.
After I finished half of the tea, I told her I needed a shower, and after a two minute long hug, she finally let me go.
A light knock on my bedroom door lures my gaze in that direction. “What is it, Margie?”
The door slowly opens a crack. “I forgot to ask if you want to watch the show with me when you’re done your shower. I’ll skip ahead to episode six for you.”
I smile when I catch sight of her face as she peers around the half-open door.
“I can circle back to the other episodes another time.”
“I love that you’d be willing to do that for me.” I smile. “I think I’m going to turn in after my shower. I have a big story to work on tomorrow, so I want to get an early start on that.”
It’s true, but I need a moment to breathe on my own.
I need time to decompress and absorb what happened so I can put it behind me and wake up in the morning ready to face the day.
“I get it,” she says. “I’ll probably watch one more episode and hit the hay too.”
I nod. “I love you. Sleep well.”
“Love you,” she bounces back. “Dream good dreams, okay?”
“I will,” I reassure her.
As soon as she’s shut the door again, I dive my hand into the pockets of my denim jacket. It’s a standard move since my sister often comes into my room to collect laundry, even though I’ve told her time and time again that I can handle it on my own.
My fingers brush against something soft, and for the first time since I left the alley on a stretcher, I remember the stranger’s pocket square.
I tug it out of my pocket.
Three red dots of my blood are a startling contrast against the light gray silk. I trace a fingertip over one of the dots, but it’s dried now.
I flip the pocket square over to find two letters embroidered into the fabric in a shade of thread not much darker than the silk itself.
K.B.
I bring it closer to get a better look.
The lingering scent of cologne on the silk stirs something within me. I hold the pocket square to my nose and inhale deeply.
It’s a warm scent, spiced with musk and woodsy notes.
It’s delicious and inviting and conjures up an image of the stranger and his brilliant blue eyes, and carved from stone features.
“K.B.,” I whisper the letters as I trace a finger over them. “Who are you?”
In a metropolis this vast, with millions of people filling its more intimate corners, the chances of me ever running into him again are slim to none.
I tell myself that, yet at the same time, I make a mental note to take the pocket square to the dry cleaners on the off chance that one day I’ll come face to face with my savior again.
“You outdid yourself, Juliet.” My boss beams as he reads over the rough draft of my next story.
Smiling, I nod. “You know how much I love the feel good articles.”
“Feel good?” Pushing back from his desk, he stands. “They’re great, but they don’t rake in the ad dollars, do they?”
I know it.
I’ve heard it time and time again.
My job as a writer for one of the most popular gossip blogs in the country should be something I’m proud of. When I landed the interview with RumorMel, I saw it as a way to get my foot in the door at Marks Creative.
Marks is a global multi-media company that runs many magazines and websites. It’s also the driving force behind a cable network.