Stay With Me(27)

“Mrs. Cullen-Wellesley?”

“Hi Paige,” Catherine said warmly. “And it’s Catherine for the hundredth time.”

“I’ve made reservations for you to fly out at eight-twenty in the morning. You’ll have a brief layover in Miami and will arrive in New York at four-ten in the afternoon. Mr. Cullen and Mr. Wellesley will meet you at the airport.”

“Thank you, Paige. I appreciate it.”

“Is everything all right…Catherine? Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“I’m fine, and thank you for making the arrangements.”

Catherine hung up and stared at her suitcase she hadn’t yet packed. She was slightly ashamed of the fact she hadn’t been convinced that Logan would call or that he would wrap up when he said he would. She’d been prepared to stay on for another few days.

After stuffing her suitcase halfheartedly, she dragged herself into bed after calling the front desk for a wake-up call and also to have a car waiting to take her to the airport.

It would be okay. Things were going to be okay this time.

***

Things were not okay.

Catherine dragged tiredly from the boarding ramp into the terminal, clutching her side. What had brewed for a day and a half as a dull ache had rapidly escalated into fiery pain.

The flight had been long and miserable, and she’d spent the entire time sipping water and praying she wouldn’t lose the contents of her stomach all over the seat.

She turned on her cell phone, hoping to find a message from Rhys or Logan. This wasn’t the way she’d wanted to tell them about her pregnancy, but she was scared something was wrong.

Trying not to panic, she quickened her stride then slowed down when each step sent a new wave of pain through her abdomen. Okay, nice and slow. Rhys and Logan would be waiting for her in baggage claim or maybe even at the security checkpoint.

She exited the checkpoint and stared around at the people milling about. Not wanting to stand for long, she picked up her phone and started the walk to baggage claim.

She was punching speed dial for Logan’s number when the LCD flashed that she had an incoming call. Relief came swift.

“Logan, where are you?” she asked as she brought the phone to her ear.

“Ah, it’s me, Paige.”

Catherine frowned. “Oh, sorry, Paige, I just assumed it would be Logan.”

“About Mr. Wellesley,” Paige said after a brief hesitation.

No. No, no, not again. Catherine stopped and leaned against the wall with her free hand.

“He and Mr. Cullen were delayed in San Francisco. They won’t be able to meet you at the airport.”

“Was their flight delayed? Are they catching another one?” Catherine asked.

“No, not immediately and no, it wasn’t delayed. They stayed on another day to meet with Mr. Kingston again and are surveying the construction site. I’m not entirely sure when they’re going to fly in.”

“I see,” Catherine said faintly.

“I’m having a car meet you. If you’ll wait inside baggage claim, I’ll have the driver come in to collect you,” Paige hurried to say.

Catherine closed her eyes and leaned heavily against the wall. “No, I’ll take a cab. I’d prefer not to wait.”

“If you’re sure…”

Paige didn’t sound convinced.

“Tell me something, Paige. When did this change of plans take place?”

There was a long silence, and Catherine shook her head.

“When I called them back last night to tell them I’d made your flight arrangements, they told me that Kingston wanted to meet with them again.”

Catherine pressed her lips together and her grip tightened around the phone. “Okay well, you can tell Mr. Cullen and Mr. Wellesley, should they call to get a report, that I made it in just fine, and that for the record, my flight was perfectly miserable, and I would have much preferred to remain in Jamaica since it’s clear they aren’t coming home anytime soon.”

She slapped the phone shut and took in several gasps as the pain in her side became nearly unbearable. She bent over to try and steady herself, sucking in air through her nose.

A chill worked up her spine, and she shivered. A bug. She must have caught a bug in Jamaica. She was tired and achy, and a chill had set in. She needed more Tylenol for the fever, and then she needed to call her obstetrician.

After waiting impatiently for her baggage, she hauled it toward the taxi rank outside and waited her turn for a cab. After twenty minutes, she climbed into the backseat and wearily supplied her address.

On the way home, she phoned her obstetrician and got his answering service. She left a message for him to call her as soon as possible then leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes.

The next thing she knew, the cabbie had reached back to touch her shoulder.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

The doorman to their apartment building opened her door.

“Mrs. Wellesley, welcome home. I’ll get your baggage.”

She reached gratefully for his hand as he helped her out. She stumbled as she stepped onto the curb, and Stuart put a hand to her elbow.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Wellesley?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Long trip.”

“Why don’t you go on up. I’ll bring your bags up in a moment.”