Hollywood House Call

The image of Malinda just before her death, dark eyes, pale skin and sunken cheeks, still haunted him and he’d hate to see the vibrant Callie Matthews fall into that dark abyss.

Callie had always been a professional, though, and she had never been late for anything. She was a bright spirit and he wanted to believe deep in his heart she was an innocent. Something was wrong.

He pulled his cell from his pocket and tried calling again while the photographer started taking down his equipment. A sinking feeling settled deep in his gut each time her chipper voice mail clicked on.

He’d left enough messages and texts, so he hung up and slid the phone back into his pants pocket.

“I’ll pay you for your time today, Mark,” Noah said. “Can we go ahead and reschedule for next Saturday? Same time?”

Mark nodded. “Sure thing. And don’t worry about paying me today. Things happen.”

Noah helped Mark carry the lighting and some other equipment to his waiting car. By the time all of that was done and Mark had left, almost another hour had passed and still there was no word from Callie.

If he weren’t so worried, he’d leave her be. She was an adult, after all. But there was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that something wasn’t right. Whether she was hung over or had been in an accident, he didn’t know.

Before he stopped at the assisted-living home, Noah thought he should at least drive by Callie’s place to check on her. She was, after all, alone in L.A. with no family here and no roommate. He just needed to make sure she was okay.

Endless possibilities flooded his mind. As morbid thought after morbid thought raced through his head, his cell rang. Panic filled him instantly, but relief slithered through. Hopefully that was Callie on the other end ready to apologize for being late.

But when he glanced at the caller ID and saw Private Caller, his hope died. He punched the button on his car to put the call on speaker as he drove down the freeway toward her apartment.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Foster?”

Not recognizing the voice, he answered, “Yes.”

“This is Marcia Cooper. I’m a nurse in the E.R. at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. We have a Miss Matthews, who was brought in to us. We tried calling one of her neighbors, but we couldn’t get her. Callie suggested we try you next.”

Fear gripped Noah, but if she’d mentioned his name and number she was at least coherent. “Is she all right?”

“I really cannot discuss her condition over the phone,” the nurse told him. “Are you able to come in?”

“I’ll be right there.”

Noah pushed the pedal farther, weaving in and out as best he could with the thick afternoon traffic. The thought of Callie hurting in any way made his stomach clench. He’d only known her to be vivacious, full of life and always smiling.

He understood the nurse was not able to disclose any information due to privacy laws, but knowing Callie was in the E.R. and not knowing her condition scared him more than before he’d gotten the phone call. Did she have a cut that just needed stitches? Had she fallen and hit her head? Had she been attacked?

Damn it. Where had she been when she’d gotten hurt?

A vision of his late fiancée crumpled on their bedroom floor flashed through his mind, but he quickly blocked the image. He couldn’t travel down that path. Right now, Callie needed him.

Noah parked in the doctor’s lot, thanks to his pass. He had privileges at several L.A. hospitals, including Cedars-Sinai, thank God.

He ran into the entrance and quickly made his way to the Emergency Department.

“Noah.”

He turned to see Dr. Rich Bays, an associate he knew quite well, coming toward him.

“You here for a patient?”

“Yeah,” Noah said. “Callie Matthews. Are you treating her?”

Rich nodded. “I am. She’s in room seven.”

“How is she?”

“I’ll fill you in as we go to her room.” Rich motioned for him to walk with him. “She has a deep facial laceration that extends from her temple down to her mandible and a fractured right clavicle. The CT scan should be back anytime and I’ll be in to let her know what it says. From what I’m told of the car accident, she’s very lucky things aren’t worse.”

Deep facial laceration. As a plastic surgeon, he’d seen some severe cases, but he didn’t even want to think how serious Callie’s case was because whatever was wrong, he would fix it.

“Is she being admitted for observation?” Noah asked.

Rich nodded. “For the night. Even if the scan comes back clear, she was unconscious when she was brought in.” Dr. Bays stopped outside the glass sliding door. “And when she goes home, she’ll probably need help.”

Noah nodded. “I’ll make sure she’s cared for.”

No doubt Callie would brush off the help, but he wasn’t letting her go through this alone. Either she’d stay with him or he could stay at her apartment.

Another thought slammed through him. How would this affect the role she’d just landed? Didn’t filming start soon?

God, he hadn’t wanted her to get the part, but he sure as hell hadn’t wanted her injured or scarred. Did she even know the severity of her wound? The broken bone would heal, but the injury to her face…

A deep laceration could take a year to heal, depending on the tissue that was damaged. Possible surgeries filled his mind. No matter how many she needed, he would be the one seeing to all of her medical care.

He needed to assess her injuries before he jumped to any conclusions. She might not be as bad as he was imagining…or she could be worse. That sickening knot in his stomach clenched so tightly he thought he’d be sick.

Noah knew one thing for certain, though. No other plastic surgeon was going to be putting his surgical hands on Callie. He’d do the job and make sure it was done right. Perfection in the O.R. was his life and he’d settle for no less with Callie.

“She’s in here.” Rich nodded toward the closed door. “I’m going to check to see if that scan is back yet. I’ll be back as soon as I learn anything.”

“Thanks, Rich.”

Noah steeled himself for what he’d see on the other side of the door and privacy curtain. He told himself that as a doctor he’d seen it all, but the thought of Callie wrapped and damaged scared him on a level he didn’t think still existed after he’d faced the hell he’d gone through in the past two years.

He wasn’t going to lie, wasn’t even going to try to deny the fear that coursed through him and nearly had a choke hold on him.

Too many times he’d seen Malinda at her worst. But he’d never seen Callie as anything but bright, smiling and joyful.

He knew he needed to be strong for Callie so he took a deep breath, eased open the door and stepped in. When he pulled aside the thick curtain, his knees nearly buckled. Her whole face, save for her eyes and mouth, was wrapped in white gauze, her hair puffed out in a matted mess around it. Her arm was in a sling to protect her broken collarbone. She looked so frail, so lifeless lying there.

He had to mentally distance himself from this or he’d never be strong enough to help her. Damn it, he had to be a friend first, not a doctor, not a boss and certainly not a wannabe lover.

As he eased closer to the bed, her eyes shifted to lock onto his.

“Hell of a way to get out of the photo shoot,” he said, trying to lighten the moment.

“God, Noah,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I was on my way to the shoot and a truck came out of nowhere… . I don’t remember anything between seeing a semi and waking up here.”

She started to weep and Noah’s heart constricted. Other than the happy tears in his office, he’d never seen her cry, had never seen anything from her but smiles and happiness—which was why he’d considered her the color yellow. Cheerful and sweet.

He wondered if she’d seen her face or if Rich had told her how bad the injuries were.

The doctor in Noah wanted to demand to see her chart so he could review it, but she needed to be consoled, needed to know everything would be all right. Because no matter what care she needed, he’d see to it himself. And he didn’t mean hire a nurse. He’d literally see to her every need personally. Even if he had to refer his clients for the next few weeks to a colleague, he would do everything in his power to make her comfortable and secure.

“Callie.” He moved over to the edge of the bed, taking her good hand in his. “There’s absolutely nothing to apologize about. Nothing.”

“I’m sorry to have to bother you, but I didn’t know who else to call when my neighbor wasn’t home,” she told him, trying to turn her head away.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” He squeezed her hand. “What can I do for you?”

She tried to shake her head, wincing at the obvious pain.

“Just try to relax.” He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’m not going anywhere, Callie.”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, but her voice cracked as tears filled her eyes again. “I know they’re keeping me tonight, but I’ll have my neighbor take me home when I get released tomorrow. You don’t have to stay.”

“I’ll leave if you really want me to, but when you’re dismissed, I’m taking you home with me.”

She slid her hand from his and tried to roll over, only to gasp when she realized she’d rolled onto her bad side.

“Easy, Callie. Don’t be so stubborn. You’re going to need help, and since I’m a doctor, I think the best place for you is with me.”

She didn’t respond. Silence filled the room and Noah knew she didn’t want his help. Too bad. He wasn’t going to leave her like this.

“Do you want me to try your neighbor again?” he asked. “You can give me the number.”

“No,” Callie said softly. “I don’t need a babysitter. I know I need someone, but…God, Noah, I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to need someone.”

Before he could say anything further, Rich stepped into the room and slid back the curtain.

“CT scan looks good,” he said. “But I’m going to go ahead and get a room ready for you just for overnight observation. You were unconscious when you were brought in and I’d feel more comfortable monitoring you for a bit. You should be able to go home in the morning. Have you thought about who can help you there?”

“I’ll manage,” she told him, still keeping her face turned to the far wall.

“Miss Matthews, I can’t let you go without knowing you’ll be taken care of.”

Noah shot Rich a look and whispered, “I’ll take her.”

Rich merely nodded and left the room.

“I’m not going to stay with you,” Callie said. “I’ll be fine at home.”

“Then I can stay with you,” he told her, trying not to get angry over her stubbornness.

“I know I should have someone to help, but I’ll call my neighbor or you if I absolutely have to. I want to be alone.”

Noah refused to back down. “Well, that’s too bad. I’m going to help you, Callie, whether you want it or not. So you can decide right now if you want to be difficult or if you want to cooperate. The end result will be the same.”

Slowly, she turned to face him. “End result? And what is the end result, Noah? That I’ll never be able to start filming this movie? That my dream was just pulled out from under me? They won’t wait on me to heal, if I ever do heal. I’ll never be the same.”

God, he hadn’t wanted her to do the film, but he’d certainly never wished for anything bad to happen to her. And if he hadn’t insisted she model for him, she wouldn’t be in this damn bed wrapped up and broken.

Sobs tore through the room and Callie pounded the bed with her left fist. “Don’t you see, Noah? The end result is that my life and everything I’ve ever worked for were just taken away.”

Noah took her hand once more and laced his fingers with hers. “I’ll make this right, Callie. No matter what I have to do, I’ll make you whole again.”

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