Susan Mallery

Sizzling


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dammit. They were everywhere—setting up cameras on his dock, crawling up to his balcony. Speedboats kept zipping by outside.

      They wanted a story and they wanted it now. No one cared that he was totally humiliated. His manager had told him the interest would die down in a few days and to just lay low until then. Great advice, but where was Reid supposed to go? This was his town. Everyone in Seattle knew who he was.

      His cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen before answering it, then frowned when he saw his grandmother’s name and number. If she’d read the morning paper, he was going to be verbally beaten and left for dead.

      “Yes?” he said, his voice clipped.

      “It’s Lori Johnston. Your grandmother’s day nurse. Your grandmother is leaving the rehab facility now and should be home within the hour.”

      He grinned. “Let me guess. You want me to stop by and cheer her up.” So much for Miss Priss’s disdain. She needed him. Eventually they all did.

      “Not exactly. She’s been given some medication and is pretty out of it.”

      “You’re drugging my grandmother?” he asked in outrage.

      Lori sighed. “My God, don’t be such a girl. Of course I’m not drugging her. I asked the doctor to prescribe some pain medication. In her condition a car ride can be excruciating. Not that you would care.”

      He ignored that. “How did you get her phone?”

      “I took it from her purse and before you start squealing in protest, I did it because I need to get in touch with you. No one sent the woman flowers or anything. There wasn’t a get-well card or note in her room. I find that astonishing. I’m surprised any of you could bring yourself to actually give her medical care. Why didn’t you just put her on an ice floe and push her out to sea?”

      Reid opened his mouth, then closed it. To anyone who didn’t really know Gloria, the lack of attention was pretty horrible.

      “She’s not a flower kind of person,” he said at last.

      “Is that the best you can do? Claiming an allergy would have been a lot smarter. So you’re the rich baseball player, right?”

      “Ex-baseball player. I was a pitcher.”

      “Whatever. Order your grandmother some flowers. A lot of flowers. Have them delivered at regular intervals. Do you hear me? Throw in a few stuffed animals. Bears, cats, giraffes, I don’t care. Something to give this poor woman the illusion that her family cares if she lives or dies. If you don’t, you’ll be answering to me and you won’t like that.”

      Her concern was misplaced, but he respected her enthusiasm. “You don’t scare me.”

      “Not yet, but I will.”

      Chapter Two

      LORI GOT GLORIA SETTLED at home with a minimum of fuss. Of course, the fact that her patient was practically unconscious really helped things along.

      Lori unpacked Gloria’s suitcase, confirmed her physical therapy appointment for the next morning and picked out something light for her evening meal. While the older woman was getting better, she’d lost a little too much weight in the past few weeks. Lori intended to put some meat back on her fashionably thin bones.

      She was on her way to look in on her patient when the doorbell rang. She answered it and found two delivery men, each holding several vases of fresh flowers. One had a giant giraffe tucked under his arm.

      “Perfect,” she said as she motioned for them to leave the flowers on the floor of the foyer. Lori had already picked out several strategic spots for floral displays in Gloria’s room. “I appreciate the fast service.”

      “The guy who ordered these wanted us to ask if you’re satisfied now.”

      She grinned. “Tell him not even close.”

      The man shrugged, then he and his partner left.

      Lori grabbed two of the larger vases and headed for the study. She’d just finished with the last arrangement when Gloria opened her eyes.

      “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice surprisingly strong for someone who had, until this second, been zonked on pain medication.

      “Putting out flowers. Your grandchildren sent them. Aren’t they beautiful?”

      “No. I hate flowers. And I see no reason for my grandchildren to send me anything. They’re far too selfish.”

      Lori agreed with that, but kept her smile cheery. “I love the smell. Don’t you?”

      “Absolutely not. Cut flowers die quickly and that depresses me. Take them away.”

      “Sorry, no.” Unfazed by Gloria’s complaints, Lori made one last trip to grab the giraffe and returned with it.

      Gloria actually raised her bed slightly and glared at the stuffed animal. “What is that? It’s awful.”

      Lori hugged the cuddly creature. “It’s here to make you smile. I think it’s adorable.”

      “You have very low standards.”

      “I don’t think so.” She propped up the giraffe in a corner. “Okay, that’s all done. Let’s get you something to eat. You must be starved.”

      “I’m not hungry at all. Go away.”

      Lori did as she requested, but only went as far as the kitchen. She popped the entrée into the microwave and checked the rest of the tray. Everything seemed to be in place.

      After the microwave dinged, she collected the steaming food and carried it back into the study.

      Gloria might claim to not want dinner, but she’d raised her bed in anticipation of eating. A good sign.

      “Here you go,” Lori said, setting the tray on the table in front of her.

      Gloria stared at the food, then pushed at the table. As it was on wheels, it slid away.

      “This is disgusting. I will not eat it. Take it away. I’m not hungry.”

      Lori put her hands on her hips. Most of her crabby patients at least started out being pleasant. It usually took a couple of days for the anger and fear to come out. She had to respect that Gloria started as she meant to go on.

      “You’re too thin,” she said calmly. “There are one of two ways to fix that. You can eat and gain back a couple of pounds, or we can hook you up to a feeding tube. I have to tell you, based on professional observation, you’re going to want to eat. The feeding tube route is pretty unpleasant. However, it’s an option. After all, you’re rich, right? Nothing but the best for you.”

      “Then why are you here?”

      Lori blinked. Okay—so there was nothing wrong with Gloria’s mental reasoning skills. “I’m the best. And really expensive. You should respect that.”

      Gloria looked her up and down, then sniffed. “You’re shabby and poor. I can smell the poverty on you.”

      “Is that from personal experience? After all, you started out poor. Wasn’t your first job working as a maid in a hotel?”

      Gloria glared at her. “I will not discuss my past with you.”

      “Why not? I’m actually interested in how you got from there to here. You were running an empire at a time when most women were afraid to dream that big. You’re a pioneer. I respect that.”

      “You think I care about your opinion on anything?”

      Lori thought for a second, then smiled. “Yeah, I do. Not enough people respect you, which is their loss.” She pushed the table back over the bed and nudged the tray a tiny bit closer to Gloria. “I picked out the meals for the first few days, but the catering service left a menu. I’m happy to let you look it over