Tall, Dark and Cranky

“You’ll forgive me for not getting up.” He greeted her in a gruff, sarcastic voice.

His eyes, framed by thick brows, looked large and luminous in the dimly lit room. The rugged lines of his face held a serious, almost angry expression.

“No apology necessary,” Rebecca replied lightly. “Of course, considering your condition, Mr. Berringer, you could be out of that chair by now, you know.”

“You think so, do you?” he challenged her. He gave a bitter laugh, then turned to his brother. “Did you find yet another Mary Poppins for the job, Matthew?” His voice sounded weary and vaguely amused. “One would think the supply would be exhausted by now.”

“One would think your brother would be exhausted by now, trying to help you, Mr. Berringer,” Rebecca replied quietly.

She saw Matthew Berringer’s eyebrows pop up at her tart response. But he said nothing. Grant finally lifted his head and stared into her eyes. He seemed impressed. Almost animated. She gave herself two points for that achievement, anyway.

“Well, well…this one’s got some spunk, I’ll give her that much,” he said to Matthew. Rebecca thought she’d noticed a spark of appreciation in his eyes as he gazed at her, then thought she must have been mistaken. His gaze remained flat and dispassionate. “I’ve always preferred a tart, cool taste myself, as opposed to something sticky and overly sweet.”

“None of my patients ever accused me of being too sweet,” Rebecca replied. “More like the opposite.”

“I’m not your patient yet, Ms. Calloway,” he reminded her harshly. “Not by a long shot.”

Rebecca was taken aback, but only for a moment. The wounded lion, cornered in his den, she thought. All he could do was give a loud roar and hope to scare the intruder away.

There was a small chair near his wheelchair, and she walked over and sat in it. She knew that being on the same eye level as the patient—not staring down at them—should help ease a tense moment like this one.

“You’re right. My mistake,” she said simply.

He stared directly at her, and she had her first good look at him, up close and personal. Intimidating was the word that first came to mind. But as she gazed unflinchingly into his dark eyes, she saw his vulnerability, as well, and the wellspring of pain and fear that had driven him to this dark place.

A thin white scar extended from the corner of his eye to his jawline, marring one cheek. Rebecca had read in the medical report that Grant could have easily had the scar erased with plastic surgery, but for some reason preferred not to. Did he keep it to help him mourn his loss? Or as a penance he felt bound to pay?

Her heart was touched by him, moved by him. Not by pity or compassion, exactly, but by some inexplicable urge to restore him, physically and spiritually, to siphon into him some of her abundant strength and will.

She had never felt quite this reaction to a prospective patient before, Rebecca thought with a mental jolt. Why this one?

Then suddenly, Grant’s voice broke into her thoughts.

“I like a person who can admit when they’re wrong,” he said in a low, deep voice.

“I do a lot of that,” she admitted. “Maybe you’ll end up liking me, after all.”

He suddenly laughed, and the deep, warm sound skimmed along her nerve endings, lighting a path in its wake—a reaction that alarmed Rebecca and one she forced herself to ignore. Still, she couldn’t ignore the sudden change in Grant Berringer’s appearance. His smile was like a sudden burst of light exploding in the shadowy room. His face was transformed, softened, making his dark good looks even more appealing, Rebecca thought, as her gaze lingered on the small, attractive lines fanning from the corners of his eyes and deep dimples beside a full, sensual mouth.

Rebecca quickly pulled her gaze away. What was going on here? Was she attracted to him?

No, it couldn’t be. Mustn’t be. She’d been warned about this but it had never happened to her. She tried to find some rational reason it would happen now. It was his sad story, she told herself. Matthew had drawn Grant as a tragic—even romantic—figure. The story had gotten to her. It had to be. She couldn’t compromise her professional standards by taking on a case when she had a romantic interest in the patient.

As if reading her mind, Grant said, “You know, Ms. Calloway, there are women, like yourself, who have come here hoping to bag a rich husband. If that’s your intention, I may as well warn you now, you’d be wasting your time.”

Rebecca knew his insult was merely a tactic, a ploy to drive her away, but it stung nonetheless to hear her ethics—and those of her colleagues—disparaged.

“Grant, please,” Matthew urged his brother. “Why do you have to do this?”

Matthew had been quiet until now. He seemed to think Rebecca and his brother should sort things out, and she was grateful for that. She could hear his frustration and embarrassment for Grant’s rudeness.

“No, it’s okay,” she assured Matthew. She turned to Grant again. “Mr. Berringer, I can promise you, the last thing in the world I’m looking for is a husband, rich or otherwise.”

She watched him blink in surprise, but he showed no other reaction to her words.

“All right, point taken,” he replied. He paused, then looked at her. “My brother says you’re highly qualified. The best he’s found so far. But I want you to give me one good reason I should hire you for this job. Especially when so many others before have clearly failed at it. One good reason, Ms. Calloway,” he added, the note of challenge in his voice growing sharper. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

Rebecca sat straight in her chair. She was being tested, like some character in a myth, required to answer the riddle before a magic portal to another realm would open or some treasure would be handed over.

She wasn’t sure what she should say or do, and on a sudden impulse, she stood and pulled open the heavy curtains. Sunlight flooded the room. God, she’d been itching to do that since she’d come in.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Grant Berringer reel back in his chair, one arm raised to shield his eyes from the sudden flash of light. Rebecca ignored his reaction.

“Here, come with me a minute, I want to show you something.” Without waiting for Grant’s reply, she flipped off the brakes of his chair and quickly wheeled him toward the open glass door.

“What are you doing?” he demanded. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I’m not a nice person,’ Rebecca answered lightly as she pushed his chair onto the deck. Inside the room, she could hear Matthew softly chuckling. She pushed Grant’s chair to the middle of the balcony, near the railing.

“That was quite a ride,” Grant said. “You’re stronger than you look.”

“Strong enough to handle you,” she promised.

He grunted something in reply, but Rebecca couldn’t make out any distinct words. The sound of his dismay made her smile.

“So why have you brought me out here, Ms. Calloway? To catch pneumonia, maybe?”

“It’s not that cold,” she countered with a laugh. “It’s not cold at all.”

“Or maybe you plan to push me off the balcony? Put me out of my misery?”

His words were spoken in a jesting tone, but they touched an alarm in Rebecca. She knew his cynical joke came from a deep, frightening place, and she knew with almost utter certainty that Grant Berringer had considered ending his life, perhaps in that very manner. Still, she managed to answer him in a joking tone.

“I’ve rarely been known to push a patient off a balcony. On purpose, I mean,” she said casually. “And I certainly wouldn’t choose such a low one,” she added, peering over the edge to the beach below. “I’d definitely take you up to the second or third floor for something like that.”

“Thanks, I feel much better now,” he said. Rebecca restrained herself from laughing. “That still doesn’t answer my question, though. Why are we out here, Ms. Calloway?”

“For the view, of course,” she replied, as if he should have guessed. “It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?”

Rebecca stood straight and took a deep breath. The ocean air was wonderful. And the view of the water and the blue sky above… Well, they reminded her of how great it was just to be alive. Couldn’t he feel that, too?

“Oh, that.” He dismissed her enthusiasm with a sarcastic laugh. “You get used to it. Believe me.”

“I never would,” she countered. She moved around his chair and stood beside him.

He glanced at her, then at the horizon. “Yes, you’re the type who probably wouldn’t,” he said quietly. “But most people do. Besides, you still haven’t given me a reason to give you the job.”

Rebecca felt suddenly nervous, anxious. This wasn’t working out as she had expected. He was tough. Maybe too tough for her?

She stood behind him again, and on impulse covered his eyes with her hands. His skin felt warm to her touch, and she could feel his entire body grow tense and alert. Yet he didn’t roar a protest, as she expected. Or try to pull away. She felt his brow furrow in a puzzled frown. Then his large hands came up to cover hers.

“What are you doing now, playing peekaboo? The woman is mad, definitely,” he murmured to himself.

Rebecca ignored his complaint. “I know you’re used to the view, take it for granted, in fact. But what if you couldn’t see the ocean ever again. How would you feel about that?”

“It wouldn’t matter to me one bit. I don’t really see it now,” he confessed in a flat voice. “I don’t deserve to see it at any rate.”

Her heart clenched at his words. Yes, it all came down to his guilt. He wouldn’t allow himself to reach out for life again. He believed he didn’t deserve it. He was trying to punish himself—and scare off anyone who tried to stop him from punishing himself.

She took her hands off his eyes, yet for some inexplicable reason, her hands floated down to trace the line of his lightly bearded cheeks. With the fingertips of her right hand, she felt the thin ridge of his scar, and a wave of emotion for him washed through her as she lifted her hands.

His hands did not prevent her from moving, but they held her, transmitting a sense that he was reluctant to feel her break contact.

But she did break contact and stood behind his chair with her arms dangling at her sides, her body feeling subtly charged from the brief touch.

“I’d like to say I understand,” she said quietly. “But I’m sure you believe that nobody really can.”

“Very wise. I don’t see how anyone could.”

Standing behind Grant Berringer, she couldn’t see his face. But his voice was filled with emotion, the most she’d heard from him so far.

She paused and took a deep breath. She was losing him. Not just losing her chance at getting the job. But losing her chance to help this man who had mysteriously touched something within her. She suddenly wanted to be the one to help him. She suddenly believed she could succeed where all the others had failed.

She moved to face him. “I took you out here because I thought that the sight of this beautiful day would remind you it’s simply great to be alive. And that’s the best reason to want to recover.”

“Spare me, Ms. Calloway. I’ve heard all these little sermons before.”

“Yes, I’m sure you have. But maybe we’re both right. It doesn’t have to be one way or the other, you know.”

“I don’t quite get your meaning.”

“Well, if what I’m saying is true, maybe you think that means your loss is without value. That what you’ve been through isn’t truly important. But that’s not what I mean at all,” she assured him. “If you allow yourself to look at the ocean, Mr. Berringer, and truly see it again and wonder at the sheer power and beauty of it…well, that’s okay,” she said quietly. “It doesn’t diminish your loss or make your pain meaningless. If you choose to go on with your life and build yourself up again, physically and emotionally, it doesn’t erase the past or make you disloyal to the memory of your fiancée.”

He held her gaze for a moment, then looked away, smoothing his hair with his hand. He seemed disturbed by her speech, and Rebecca braced herself for a tirade. Then he appeared to settle into his own thoughts as he stared at the sea. She wondered what those thoughts were. She couldn’t begin to guess.

He had a strong profile, she noticed, one that spoke of determination, even a stubborn streak. If looks were any indication, maybe he’d make it, after all.

“I’ll take you back in now,” she offered after a few moments. “Unless of course you’d like to stay out here alone for a while?”

“I can get myself back in, when I’m damned good and ready,” he replied curtly. “But is the interview over, Ms. Calloway?” he asked, his tone mockingly polite. “I thought that small formality was the employer’s prerogative.”

Rebecca suppressed a laugh. “My mistake…once again.”

“Yes, that’s two. But who’s counting? Frankly, I’m amazed that I’m still interested in hiring you at all.”

“Yes, so am I,” she replied honestly, feeling her heartbeat quicken at his words.

“So…do you want the job or not?” he asked impatiently.

Her immediate impulse was to answer “Yes.” But she restrained herself.

“I’m glad you want to hire me, Mr. Berringer. But I do need to think it over for a day or so. I hope that’s acceptable to you.”

“As you wish. You can call Matthew with your decision,” he instructed.

“All right, I’ll do that,” she replied. Had she hurt his feelings when she didn’t accept right away? He was pouting like a small boy. Well, she couldn’t help that.

“Did I scare you?” he asked suddenly. His black eyes were narrowed in a brooding look that had already become familiar to her. “You hardly seem the timid type.”

“No, not at all,” she called over her shoulder. “You’ll have to try much harder if I come back.”

“Yes, I will try harder. I’ll be absolutely impossible,” he promised. “See, you’ve motivated me already.”

Rebecca met his glance quickly then continued on her way. His brief smile was heart-stopping. Both a good sign…and bad, she thought with dismay. She kept going, through the glass door, through Grant’s messy bedroom to the outer room, where she found Matthew waiting for her.

“How did it go?” Matthew asked eagerly, rising from his chair.

“All right, I suppose. He offered me the job.”

“That’s great!” Matthew smiled, and his blue eyes lit with pleasure. “When can you start?” he asked eagerly.

“Well, I haven’t accepted yet. I need some time to think it over. A day or two, at the most. Your brother told me I should call you with my answer.”

“Yes, call me with your answer as soon as you decide, Ms. Calloway. And if there are any questions, any questions at all—about the salary or living arrangements—please know I’ll do all I can to make the situation comfortable for you.”

Rebecca promised she would call as soon as she came to a decision, and Matthew showed her to the front door, where they said goodbye.

As Rebecca started up her car and drove down the long driveway toward the main road, she wondered why she hadn’t accepted on the spot. While she dithered, the Berringers might interview someone else and offer them the position. The salary they’d spoken of was very generous. As were the extras. It was a plum assignment, really. Except for one thing. The patient.

Grant Berringer hadn’t scared her. But her feelings and reactions to him certainly had.

Two

Although Rebecca had expected to deliberate over the job offer for at least a day or more, she could think of nothing else during the long drive back to the city. By the time she arrived at the front door to her apartment in a brownstone building on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, she had more or less decided that she had no real choice at all. She felt compelled to accept, despite a niggling, intuitive warning that the job would be a hard one, perhaps the hardest she’d ever faced.

Yet each time she’d pondered turning it down, the vision of Grant Berringer’s dark, luminous eyes and bleak, haunted expression would rise before her, and she’d feel herself swaying again toward a positive answer.

Rebecca had faced some hard cases but prided herself on the fact that she had never failed to inspire her patients to work hard and heal. She had a solid reputation in her field—which was why Matthew Berringer had gotten in touch with her in the first place. Did she dare put that professional reputation on the line for a man she barely knew—and didn’t even necessarily like? If she failed with a well-known man like Grant Berringer—and joined the ranks of his rejected therapists—the word would soon get around. It might make it difficult to find another assignment.

Well then, she couldn’t fail, could she? Somehow, she had to break through the fortress he’d built around his wounded heart and soul. The injuries to his body were serious but irrelevant, Rebecca believed. It was the inner man who needed to recover. And once that began to happen, the rest would follow easily, as night follows day.

Rebecca quickly changed from her interview suit into comfortable, worn jeans and a striped T-shirt. With a tall cold drink in hand, she dialed Matthew Berringer. He sounded surprised to hear from her. But when she accepted the offer, he seemed so pleased and grateful, Rebecca felt she’d made the right choice, after all. She arranged to move into the Berringer mansion the following weekend, which was right after Nora’s last day of school.

Since her stay would be temporary, Matthew insisted on paying her moving expenses and any unexpected costs, such as rent on her apartment or storage for furniture. While Rebecca appreciated his consideration and concern, she had been asked to move out of her apartment at the end of the month to give way to the landlord’s brother. And as for items to put in storage, since her divorce, she and Nora had been traveling light, and Rebecca thought she could fit most of their belongings in the back of her Jeep Cherokee.

“Grant will be very pleased to hear the news,” Matthew said. “He was impressed by your meeting.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Rebecca replied, smiling. “The same way a bored cat is impressed with a particularly feisty mouse.”

“Well…that, too,” Matthew conceded with a laugh. “But I think he’s finally met a worthy adversary. My money is riding on you, Rebecca.”

Rebecca thanked him for the vote of confidence. They discussed the terms of her contract and ended the conversation on a cheerful note. The moment she hung up the phone, however, she felt a knot of dread in the pit of her stomach. Well, she’d accepted. The contract would arrive in a few days, and once she signed it, she was committed to the assignment.

Rebecca shoved worrisome thoughts aside and began making a list of all she had to do in the next week to prepare for the move. She looked up to see that it was time to pick up Nora at school, a task that was performed by a sitter while Rebecca was working. But Rebecca liked to meet her daughter whenever she was able.

Nora greeted her with a giant hug. They walked down the tree-lined street toward home hand in hand while Nora chatted happily about her adventures of the day. With the school year coming to a close, the teachers were clearly growing weary, and the children were getting wilder every day. Rebecca was barely able to interrupt Nora’s conversation long enough to offer her some ice cream at a favorite shop. They sat at the counter and each ordered their usual flavor, strawberry for Rebecca and Rocky Road for Nora. Once Nora had settled down, Rebecca told her about her new job and explained that they’d be moving to the patient’s house for the summer.

“You mean, like when we stay at Grammy’s, in the guest room?” Nora asked, sounding puzzled.

Rebecca had to smile at the comparison. Her mother lived in a lovely old Victorian house on the Connecticut shore, the house where Rebecca had been raised along with two sisters. But the entire home would fit quite neatly into the space of the Berringers’ east wing, she thought.

“Not quite like Grammy’s guest room. We’ll have our own private apartment, about the size of the apartment we have now. But it will be part of the Berringers’ house,” Rebecca explained. “Their house is very large. The kind you call a mansion.”

Nora’s lovely little face was still puckered in a frown. “Oh, you mean sort of like a castle?”

“Well…not exactly. But a little like a castle, I guess,” Rebecca conceded, taking a spoonful of ice cream. There was a genuine, fire-breathing dragon on the premises, she reflected.

Nora seemed satisfied by that answer and excited to be living at the beach. Rebecca realized she would have to enroll Nora in a day camp or some type of summer program so her daughter would be occupied during working hours, but Rebecca was sure she would easily find something suitable.

“I think Eloise will love living in a castle,” Nora said. “Maybe she’ll learn how to swim.”

Oh, dear, the cat, Rebecca thought. She’d almost forgotten about Eloise. But the cat, who had been with Nora since she was only two, couldn’t be left behind. She’d have to tell Matthew Berringer about Eloise, of course, and hope he didn’t mind.

“Cats don’t like water much, Nora,” Rebecca reminded her. “But I’m sure she won’t complain about seafood dinners.”

Nora laughed. As they walked home, Rebecca felt relieved that her daughter had taken the news of their sudden move so easily. Some other children would have been upset about the unexpected change. But Nora had always had an easy temperament, even as a baby. She’d always taken changes in stride, too. Even the breakup of their little family. Nora had only been four years old when Rebecca’s husband had asked for a divorce, claiming he’d fallen madly in love with a co-worker.

Rebecca had been crushed by the betrayal, but not truly surprised. In the years since Nora’s arrival, it seemed that she and her husband, Jack, had been growing increasingly distant and they spent little time together as a couple—except to argue about money, or Jack’s late nights out with his pals, or all the day-to-day problems in every married life. But while Rebecca had noticed the change in their relationship and wondered how to rekindle their romantic spark, she’d never imagined that Jack had found someone else. She’d never once considered being unfaithful to him. No matter what.

They had been sweethearts since high school, and his disloyalty was a great blow to her. Still, for Nora’s sake, Rebecca had offered to forgive and forget, if Jack was willing to end his affair and try to work on their marriage. She was even willing to recognize that she had played some part in his seeking passion elsewhere.

But Jack had claimed it was too late and any efforts in that direction would be useless. He also claimed that he loved her…but not the way a man should love his wife. Maybe they’d married too young, or simply knew each other too long and too well. While it all sounded like the typical excuses of an unfaithful spouse, Rebecca knew there was some truth to his words. Maybe she had always been too devoted to Jack, her love and loyalty too easily won. His great romance hadn’t held together very long, but that, too, was predictable, Rebecca realized.

The blow was awesome, but it was a clean break and irrevocable. As painful as it had been to face the truth, her loving feelings for Jack had withered and grown cold soon after she’d learned about his deception. In fact, in the passing years, she’d come to see him differently. It wasn’t just bitterness, either, she knew. While they were married, she’d accepted and overlooked his immaturity and self-centered tendencies. But now she saw him objectively and often felt relieved that she didn’t have to put up with his inconsiderate behavior anymore.

Except that Nora often did, which inevitably made Rebecca livid. Jack had never been a very consistent father, sometimes showering Nora with the attention and affection she deserved and sometimes ignoring her existence completely. His sales job kept him on the road a lot, and even when he was in town, he often forgot plans and special dates he’d made with Nora. Rebecca was left to make excuses and soothe Nora’s hurt feelings…and to give their daughter a double share of love and attention. It was at those times especially that Rebecca wondered why she’d ever put up with him all those years.