The Boss Project(58)
I could have argued, since we both knew she was full of shit. Ever since we’d moved in together last year, it felt like Amelia had taken up a half-dozen hobbies, none of which included me. Before flying lessons, it was sky diving and rock climbing, and before that she was flying all over the place on the weekends to play in poker tournaments. She’d always been a daredevil and an adrenaline junkie, but nothing like this.
“Don’t pout.” She walked back over and grabbed two fistfuls of my shirt. “Why don’t you do what the couple’s therapist said and get your own hobby?”
“Why don’t you do what the therapist said and spend a little time with me?”
She rolled her eyes. “We spend eighty hours a week together at the office, and we live together.”
“That’s not spending time together. It’s working and having a roommate.”
She pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips to mine. “A roommate who let you wake me up this morning by sticking your dick in me.”
I was about to remind her that it was the only time we’d had sex in two weeks, and interrupting her sleep was the only time I got from her lately, outside of discussing trades at the office. But the therapist had told us to try to avoid unnecessary confrontation, so I bit my tongue and kept things positive. “How about dinner tonight?”
“I probably won’t be back until seven.”
“It’s fine. I have a mountain of work to do at the office. I’ll make us a reservation for eight at that little Italian place we ordered from that you liked.”
She nodded. “Okay. Why don’t I meet you there in case I’m late?”
I kissed her forehead. “Sounds like a plan. Stay safe. Don’t go rogue on your instructor like you do your business partner most days.”
She finally cracked a smile. “I’ll try. No promises.”
? ? ?
“Would you like another cocktail, sir?”
I shook the ice in my empty glass. “Sure, why not? Apparently I need something to occupy my time.”
The waiter smiled and nodded. After he walked away, I checked my phone for the tenth time: eight thirty-five now and no missed calls. Amelia had texted around five thirty, right before she was about to go up for her lesson. She’d said they were getting a late start and confirmed she’d meet me at the restaurant. But even if she didn’t take off until six, her forty-five-minute, in-air lesson would have been done in time to get here at eight.
Fifteen minutes later, I’d sucked back my second drink, there was still no sign of her, and my calls kept going to voicemail. So I raised my hand to call the waiter.
“I’m sorry. It looks like the person I’ve been waiting for is not coming to dinner.”
“No problem. Would you like to order for yourself?”
I shook my head. “Just the check, please.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
After I signed the bill, I took cash from my wallet and tossed enough on the table to cover the hour I’d wasted. As I got up, my phone buzzed.
“About time,” I grumbled.
But when I pulled my cell out, it wasn’t Amelia’s number on the screen. Though it was a local one, so I swiped to answer anyway.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Mr. Crawford?”
“It is. Who’s this?”
“My name is Lucy Cooper. I’m an ER nurse over at Memorial Hospital.”
I froze. “Memorial Hospital? Did something happen to Amelia?”
“I’m sorry to tell you this, but there’s been an accident.”
“What kind of an accident? Is she okay?”
“Ms. Evans was in a plane crash. She’s in very serious condition, Mr. Crawford.”
A giant lump formed in my throat and made it hard to speak. “I’m on my way.”
? ? ?
“Can you tell me where Amelia Evans is?” I’d paid the Uber driver an extra five-hundred bucks to blow any light he could to get to the hospital faster.
The woman behind the glass frowned. “And who are you to Ms. Evans?”
“I’m her fiancé.”
She nodded. “I was here when she came in. I think they took her upstairs. But let me check.”
She disappeared and came back a few minutes later. “May I see some identification, please?”
I pulled out my wallet and slid my license through the opening at the bottom of the glass. The woman examined it and slid it back. “Thank you. Ms. Evans is upstairs. They’re prepping her for surgery. But the gentleman who came in with her said he was her husband. They both came in via ambulance and went straight to the back, so I didn’t question it or see any ID.”
My brows pulled together. “Amelia doesn’t have a husband.”
The woman offered an apologetic smile. “Sometimes people lie about who they are so we won’t kick them out since they aren’t family. But your name is in our system as Ms. Evans’s next of kin. It’s on file from a prior admission for surgery.”
I nodded. “When her appendix ruptured last year.”
“Anyway.” She pointed to the left. “You can come on through the door. I’ll buzz you back. Then you’re going to walk straight down the hall to the elevator bank and go up to the fifth floor. The nurses at the station on the surgery floor should be able to give you an update on her condition.”