stopped, thank God. But almost instantly, it started again.
Daisy stumbled, realizing that this vibration had nothing to do with the nearness of Alex and everything to do with the tiny mobile phone she’d tucked into the on-seam pocket of the dress.
“You won’t need it,” Izzy had said.
But Daisy had insisted. Most glitzy high-fashion dresses clung so tightly that anything more than underwear—and sometimes even that—was too much. But Izzy’s gorgeous kicky swirly dress flared at the hips, and Daisy had put her phone into one of its tiny pockets.
“Just in case,” she’d said, patting it.
“Suit yourself. I won’t be calling you,” Izzy had vowed.
But someone was calling her now.
Alex caught her when she stumbled. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s my phone.”
His brows drew together. “Your phone? Who the hell do you need to talk to tonight?”
Daisy didn’t answer that. “Sorry.” She shrugged, half apologetic, half worried as she slipped out of his arms and moved to the edge of the dance floor. “I have to get this.”
Alex followed her. “One of your clients out on a hot date and need advice?” he growled.
Daisy glanced at the caller ID. It was Izzy. She answered at once. “Is it Charlie? What happened? What’s wrong?”
“He’s fine,” Izzy said quickly. She sounded as out of breath as Daisy felt. “Well, not entirely fine. But nothing life-threatening. Really. Don’t panic.”
“What happened?” Daisy pressed the phone hard against her ear, trying to hear above the music.
“He was following Rip,” Izzy reported ruefully. “Doing what the big boys do. They were climbing on the bunk beds. Rip has this notion that he can move all around their bedroom without touching the floor—”
“Oh, God.”
“Well, he can,” Izzy admitted. “Of course he’s bigger than Charlie. He has longer arms and legs. More wingspan.”
Daisy didn’t need to have it spelled out. “Oh, God,” she said again, knees wobbling.
“Charlie’s a pretty impressive climber,” Izzy said with the calm that came from having got sons through the first decade of their adventurous lives. “And jumper—but he didn’t quite make it to the top of the chair from Rip’s bunk. He’s broken his arm. I’m so sorry, Daisy. I feel terrible. I—”
“Where is he? St. Luke’s?”
“Yes. Finn’s taking him. We’re on a first-name basis with the emergency room staff.”
“I’ll meet him there.” Daisy was already headed for the nearest exit so she could grab her coat and then a cab.
“I’m so sorry,” Izzy repeated. “And Rip is devastated.”
“Tell him not to worry. I’m sure it will be fine.” She just needed to get there. Now.
“I feel so responsible. Or, as Finn says, irresponsible.”
“Don’t. It’s not your fault.”
“It is. I forget how much younger Charlie is. Call me as soon as you’ve seen him. Promise?”
“I promise.” Daisy stuffed the phone back into her pocket and headed for the cloak room.
“What is it? What happened?”
Dear God, she’d forgotten about Alex!
Daisy shot him a quick glance and apologetic smile over her shoulder. “I—It’s … an emergency. A friend …” She gave a vague wave of her hand as she skirted around groups of people in the foyer. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”
“I figured that out,” Alex said gruffly. “Not a client.”
“No.”
“Your ex?” he bit out.
Daisy blinked at him. “What?”
“Guess not. A new boyfriend?” His gaze narrowed. When she didn’t answer, it narrowed further. “Did you tell him you were coming out with me?”
There were no answers to anything he was likely to ask now. “I need to go, Alex,” she repeated, then forced herself to stop and face him squarely, even managing to paste a smile on her face. “Thank you for this evening. I enjoyed it.”
“I did, too,” he said, a grim set to his mouth. Then he stepped around her to present the claim check for her coat to the lady behind the desk.
“Thank you. You don’t have to wait. I’ll just catch a cab.”
He didn’t reply. But he didn’t leave, either. And moments later, when the lady brought her coat and she reached for it, Alex was there first, shaking it out and holding it so she could slip it on.
“Thank you.” As the coat settled on her shoulders, Daisy flicked a grateful smile in his general direction. “I’m sorry to run off. I did have a lovely evening.” She paused, hoping he’d say, Of course, I understand. Thank you for coming. Then, niceties observed, she could dart away.
He said, “I’ll come with you.”
“No! I mean, no, thank you. It’s not necessary. Really, Alex. I mean it,” she said when she saw his jaw tighten. “Thank you for everything, but I’ll say good-night here.” There was a moment’s silence. Then, not knowing what else to do, she thrust out a hand for him to shake.
He looked at it as if she’d offered him a poisonous snake.
Hastily Daisy withdrew it. “Good night, Alex.” And without giving him time to reply she turned and darted out of the hotel to catch a cab.
He should just let her walk away and get on with his life.
It was clearly what she wanted. Whatever the hell she was doing, dropping everything and running off at the drop of a hat, it wasn’t any of his business.
Alex knew that.
She didn’t want him there. He knew that, too.
But he couldn’t let her go and face whatever the hell she was about to face when the mere thought of it turned her white-faced and stricken.
So what if it was a boyfriend? Once he saw that she was all right, he’d leave her to it. To him—the boyfriend. Though he couldn’t help grinding his teeth at the thought.
The cab he’d grabbed outside the Plaza took a right on Fifty-seventh and headed west. It was Saturday night in midtown, and the traffic was bumper-to-bumper traffic. The theaters had just disgorged people by the hundreds onto the streets. Progress was excruciatingly slow.
He should have just followed her straight out the door. But she’d got a head start on him, and then Standish had called his name. There was no way to pretend he hadn’t heard, and impossible to be impolite and brush the older man off—not without being able to offer a convincing excuse.
And what was he going to say? “My date had to rush to the hospital because she thinks her ex-husband … or maybe her boyfriend … or some guy she knows called Charlie needs her?”
Damn it. Didn’t she have any pride?
He glared out at the traffic, willing it to move. At least Standish had told him where St. Luke’s was. It wasn’t that close to Daisy’s office, though perhaps it was near where she actually lived.
He didn’t even know where she lived. Something else she hadn’t shared with him. And something else to fume about until the driver dropped him off outside the emergency services department and sped away.
Facing it, Alex’s feet