Kissed Blind (Hot Pursuit #2)(23)



Cici returned to the kitchen on the heels of Oliver’s words. “She says she’s nauseous.”

The doctor bobbed his head. “That’s normal. Have her eat some crackers for now, or something else that will be easy on her stomach. Any clear carbonated beverage, like Sprite, should help settle her stomach as well.”

“Absolutely.” Oliver inhaled deeply, and the veins in his neck bulged under the extra pressure of the breath he was holding.

Cici started to say something and stopped herself.

“Speak up,” Oliver said. Exhaustion hit him hard, concealing his eyes in a shadow.

“It’s just that crackers are carbs and she won’t eat them.” She glanced around the room and avoided Oliver’s eyes.

“Tell her doctor’s orders,” the doctor chimed in.

“And tell her I said so too, if she puts up any fight.” He held up a finger. “Actually, I’ll take them to her myself. I have my ways. After all the years we’ve been married, I’d like to say I know her better than anyone else.”

“She was lucky you came home when you did. And thank goodness you were familiar with the problem and handled it perfectly. If you’d been much later, who knows what would have happened.” The doctor finished entering the information onto the screen and pushed it in Oliver’s direction.

“I know, doc, I don’t even want to think about it.” Oliver gave the doctor a firm pat on his shoulder and shook his hand.

“I just need you to sign here.” After Oliver scribbled his signature, the doctor handed him a small bottle of pills. “Should she have any issues resting, give her one of these. It will make her comfortable for the evening.”

“Thanks,” Oliver said, and Cici escorted the doctor to the door.

“Vance, I’m sorry to ask this, I know it’s not in the job description, but would you mind going with Cici to get Camille some soup? Cici knows what she likes. There’s a Japanese place close by, right? I’ll be able to get a few crackers in her, but the soup she won’t refuse.”

“It’s no problem at all.” Vance and Cici smiled at each other. “I know a great restaurant just across the way. We shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes.”

I wanted to protest them leaving by themselves but couldn’t think of any logical reason. I watched them walk out the door together. Oliver went up to check on Camille and returned a few minutes later.

In the living room, he slumped back on the couch. “Join me for a second, Diana. Keep me company.”

It was surreal hearing him say those words to me, and I happily obliged. “Is she feeling better?” I sat in the chair next to him.

“She’s jittery, but if Camille can have her miso soup then all will be right with the world. Getting Camille to eat sometimes is a challenge.”

“I bet it’s tough for her constantly having her looks scrutinized.”

“We’ve both done it for so long it’s normal. Well, as normal as this life can be anyway.”

“Pretty crazy sometimes, huh?”

“Yeah, but unfortunately male and female actors fight different battles. A man can get roles well into his senior years. Most actresses aren’t so lucky. Camille hasn’t been getting the roles she’s wanted lately. It’s been hard on her. She thinks it’s because she’s getting old and fat.”

I laughed and slapped a hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry, but Camille looks amazing. She’s nowhere near fat, and she’s worried about looking old? I should be so lucky to look half as good as she does at her age.”

“Don’t fool yourself. You’re stunning now, and I have no doubt you’ll continue to be.”

A flash of heat exploded in my body and filled my cheeks. I glanced down, hoping my hair would fall and cover my face. “Thank you, but I’m nothing compared to her. She’s beautiful, but she’s also incredible on the screen. I fell in love with her in Acts of Desperation.”

“Yeah, you and the rest of the world. If people only knew.” His last words trailed off, and he stared blankly at the city beyond the windows.

“I know. That movie made her career, but I’ve watched all the behind the scenes stuff about her career and yours. Neither of you had an easy ride to the top, but I guess that’s probably true for half of Hollywood.”

He sat quietly for a moment, pressing his fingertips together. “We’ve made sacrifices to get here, some bigger than others I suppose.”

“I can understand that. You sacrifice a lot more than people realize. It has to be annoying to not be able to go to the hospital when you should because pictures will be splashed all over the news. And then the made up stories over why you were there. I’m sure it gets old.”

“Yes, exactly. There are times where I wish we could just disappear, but we’ve made our beds and there’s no going back now. It would be magnificent though—just once—to walk across the street and grab a cup of coffee and not be mobbed by hundreds of people.” He paused again and a second wave of exhaustion hit him. His shoulders sagged a little lower, and he closed his eyes. He laughed to himself. “I must sound like an ungrateful ass, don’t I?”

“No, not at all. It can’t be easy.”

“It isn’t, but for all I have, I have no room to complain. I have more money than most people dream of. I can have anything I want. Hell, I can call the best doctor in the city and have him at my door in minutes. I can have someone hop up and run errands for me and get my wife soup. I can…” He sighed. “Oh never mind, you get the point.” He hopped off the sofa and went over to the wet bar. “Can I get you a drink while we wait for them to get back?”

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