Dr. Silverman tries, but she can’t quite hide the smile that’s threatening to come out. “Congratulations. The baby is healthy.”
“Then why did I bleed?” Paige asks.
“Sometimes that happens, but it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re having a miscarriage. Of course, we should take extra precautions, and I want to see you again next week. Also, I strongly urge you to not overexert yourself. Get plenty of rest and avoid stress as much as possible. I understand you have a wedding coming up, a ‘once in a lifetime’ event, but so is your baby. Delegate as much as you can.” Then she gives me a look. “I expect you to make sure that happens.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I answer meekly.
We thank the doctor and leave. I have Paige sit in the waiting room, while I talk to the receptionist about the next appointment. The young woman is nowhere near as professional or cool as Dr. Silverman. She’s virtually fucking me with her eyes.
I let it roll past. Other women are no longer my concern. They can look all they want, but right now the only person I care about is Paige.
As the receptionist hands me an envelope with the print-out of the ultrasound and a card with the information about the next appointment, I hear a loud gasp behind me.
“No!” Paige cries. She’s looking at her phone, her face drained of blood.
I shove the envelope in my pocket and take a few big strides toward her. “What is it?”
“Bethany.” Paige’s eyes are wide, and her face is so pale I’m afraid she’s going to pass out. “She’s been in a car wreck.”
Chapter Sixteen
Paige
I manage to calm my nerves and drive to the hospital address Oliver has texted me. If the roads weren’t wet, Ryder would probably take over, but…
If it had been anybody but Bethany, I would’ve assumed the weather had something to do with the accident. But she’s not a California native, and she’s a great driver, even in snow.
Ryder puts on shades and an old cap as I park the car. Renni and Gary are already in the waiting room by the time we make it inside. Oliver’s usually smiling face is devoid of color, and his narrow shoulders are hunched almost level with his ears. The rimless glasses sit skewed on his nose, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
I run over to him. “Bethany?”
“The doctors are with her right now,” Oliver says.
“What happened?”
“The police think somebody ran her off the road.” He drops his hands. “There were skid marks. But they aren’t telling us anything more.”
“How about the other driver?”
“Didn’t stop.”
Anger laces through my worry. I know some people are horrible about stopping and doing the right thing, but this is just awful. Ryder puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. I lean toward him, grateful for his support. My knees are unsteady, and I can’t help but imagine the worst.
“The baby?” I manage to ask.
“I don’t know.” Oliver wipes tears away. “There was blood on her, Paige. So much blood.” He covers his face with shaking hands.
My vision dims. Bethany and Oliver tried so long and hard for that baby. If anybody deserves one, it’s—
“Paige!” Ryder’s urgent voice rings in my ear. His arms are tight around me.
I blink a few times until my eyes focus. Ryder’s peering at me, his brows scrunched.
“What?” I ask, my voice low.
“You went limp, and I thought you fainted.”
Maybe I did faint for a moment. I have no idea. I find a seat and try to collect myself.
Ryder watches my every move. Eventually he turns back to Oliver and the others. “Is there anything we can do to help?”
Oliver shakes his head and sighs. “I doubt it. You should go home. I didn’t mean for all of you to come. I have no idea what I was thinking.”
I stand up—gingerly—and walk over to hug him. “You did the right thing. You deserve our support.” Gary and Renni nod.
I don’t know if Oliver can hear me though. His gaze is focused on something beyond us, and his mouth is tight with denial. I recall the terror I felt when I was brought to the hospital, bleeding, and I wasn’t going through the trauma of an accident on top of it. He and Bethany must be petrified. What if the unthinkable happens…?
Ryder checks his phone and texts for a moment. He probably needs to cancel whatever appointments he has for the afternoon. I realize that even though I’m supposed to be his assistant again, I don’t know what he has scheduled for the day.
Finally he gets up. I put a hand on his forearm. “Don’t go,” I say.
“I’m not leaving. Just need to check on something.”
“Let me come along.” I don’t want to be alone with my dark thoughts. Renni and Gary don’t seem to know what to do either, Gary staring at nothing and Renni tapping her feet two hundred beats per minute—her little tick when she’s tense and worried. It seems like Ryder is our only steady anchor, and I need that.
He debates a moment, then nods. “Okay. Come on.”
We take an elevator to the top floor. He leads me down a hall until we reach a section marked PRIVATE, which of course means nothing to Ryder. He pushes the door open and walks in. A secretary in a regular street outfit of a blouse and slacks looks up. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but I’m pretty sure Rob Sanders will see me, assuming he’s available,” Ryder says, taking off his cap and sunglasses.
The woman’s eyes go wide with recognition. “Oh my god… Um, of course. Right this way.”
She takes us to a small conference room with a view of the parking lot. I look out onto gray, wet concrete and spot our Mercedes.
Within minutes, an enormous man walks in. Thicker than an old oak, he’s in a short-sleeve button-down shirt and black slacks that are held up by suspenders. His thick red beard covers a big portion of face, and freckles cover the rest. Other than the beard, he has no hair on his head.
“Good to see you, Ryder.”
Ryder shakes hands with him.
“And your beautiful fiancée. So lovely to meet you. I’m Rob, director of this fine hospital.” His big hand closes around me. He is surprisingly gentle and careful, a man very much aware of his own strength.
We all sit down at the table. “So. What can I do for you?” He winces apologetically. “Normally I’d spend more time on preliminaries, but I have an appointment in fifteen minutes.”
“It’s about a patient who just came in. Car wreck.”
“This damn weather,” Rob mutters, glancing at the rain outside.
“She’s pregnant,” Ryder says. “I have no idea what her insurance is going to cover, but I want you to do everything in your power to make sure she’s okay. If there’s a procedure that can increase the odds by even half a percent, I want you to do it. Don’t worry about the cost. I’ll cover it.”
I jerk my head his way, but Rob has already produced a pen and scrap of paper from some pocket or other.
“What’s the name?”
“Bethany…” Ryder glances at me.
“Uh, Smith. Bethany Smith,” I say. “Her husband’s in the waiting room. His name is Oliver.”