Maybe Baby Lite (8 page)

“
I hardly think so,” he
said a bit derisively. “You’re extremely beautiful but I suspect
you knew that already."

I blushed under the
compliment, not quite sure how to respond to this unfamiliar
territory. I'd never considered myself pretty let alone beautiful.
I figured I was okay looking but I didn't spend a lot of time
worrying about it one way or another. His closeness was starting to
unnerve me; I felt clammy and nervous. Maybe a change of subject
would take those piercing blue eyes off of me.

“
Tre… I mean Mr.
Sinclair?” I started.

“
Please let’s dispense
with this ‘Mr. Sinclair’ stuff once and for all,” he said, laughing
and waving his hand dismissively. “After all, I’ve seen parts of
you over the course of this past week that clothes would never
cover if it were up to me. It’s Trey, okay?”

What the hell did he mean
by that? What kind of hospital didn't take appropriate steps to
protect an unconscious patient’s privacy?

“
What were you about to
ask me, Tylar?”

“
Oh, um, would you mind
getting my hospital gown off the hook in the bathroom? I think I'd
be more comfortable in it.”

“
I’m sure
you
would, but I
wouldn’t,” he teased.

I was about to give him a
snotty retort, but he held up his hand warding off my
response.

“
I think I've got
something here that will be comfortable and give you some modesty
as well,” he said. He retrieved a shopping bag from the chair and
placed it next to me on the bed, indicating for me to look inside.
I opened it and removed a tissue-wrapped bundle. The tissue was
sealed with the scrolled “VS” gold seal. I opened the seal and
lifted a pink terrycloth bathrobe from the tissue. It was soft and
fluffy as I rubbed it up against my cheek. There was a “VS” silk
embroidered emblem on the front panel.

“
Thank you. I totally love
it,” I clutched it appreciatively.

“
There’s more,” he said
with amusement. “Keep going.”

I tilted the bag and found
a matching pair of pink fluffy slippers inside, and another
tissue-wrapped package at the bottom. I opened the package and
pulled out a pink satin nightie. It had spaghetti straps and was
full length, with a slit up one side to just above the knee. It was
sexy yet soft and classy. There was also a pair of bikini panties
that matched.

"These are beautiful,” I
breathed, brushing the satin nightgown against my cheek. “Thank
you, Trey.”

He was pleased that I was
pleased. “Why don’t you change into them?” he suggested. Good
thinking; however, there was no way I was parading my thonged ass
past him to get to the bathroom. He realized my dilemma, but made
no attempt to move. He cocked his eyebrow at me, sporting a
devilish grin. It was then I realized the bed sheet had dropped to
my lap. I was inadvertently presenting him with a view of my
ready-to-spill-over breasts. Trey made no secret of perusing
them.

“
Do you
mind
?” I snapped,
pulling the sheets up to my chin again. “Some privacy would be
nice.”

Trey was still grinning
like a cad, but finally stood up and sauntered to the door. “I’ll
be back in three minutes, ready or not.”

I flew into action,
knowing that he meant what he said. A couple of minutes later,
fully dressed with my new robe cinched tightly around me, I climbed
back into my hospital bed, stretching out on top of the covers. I
finger combed my hair again nervously, pulling the shawl collar of
the robe up so that my neck was covered.

In a few seconds Trey
re-entered the room. He stopped short, giving me a frown when he
saw that I was fully covered and safe from his bold stare and
lingering perusal.

“
Comfortable, Tylar?” he
asked.

“
Absolutely. You chose
well and everything fits perfectly.”

“
I’m glad,” he replied,
“though I might’ve re-thought the robe in retrospect.

I gave him an angelic
smile.

“
Ok then,” he continued,
“You and I need to discuss a few matters if you’re not too tired at
the moment?”

“
I’m fine,” I answered,
“in fact, I feel almost back to normal. I bet I get released
tomorrow.”

“
Actually you were
released today,” he said. “I insisted they keep you over at least
another day or two so that arrangements can be made.”

What? How could he decide
when I could leave the hospital? What arrangements was he talking
about? I worried about how much these extra days would cost. “I’m
not sure what you mean about arrangements, Trey.”

“
Tylar, several of the
staff members and I have attempted to reach your mother on the
number listed in your personnel file. It's no longer a valid cell
phone number. It could've been put into our computer system in
error. I'd like for you to call her now please.”

“
I've no problem calling
my mom,” I replied, “but wouldn’t she be a little late to the party
since I’m fine now?”

“
My point is that your
mother will probably want you to come home for a couple of weeks to
fully recover. Any type of concussion can have lingering effects;
it’s important to minimize the risk of further complications. Your
work here with the horses is the type of risk I'm talking
about.”

I cut him off abruptly.
“So you’re firing me?”

“
Calm down,” he warned.
The edge in his voice told me he meant business. We'd so quickly
gone from flirting to this. I wanted to rake my fingernails down
his face and pictured myself doing so. It helped.

“
You're not fired
yet,
” he responded
slowly. “I'm simply concerned about your recovery. I guess I
figured you'd want to be home with your family during your
recuperation. You can't return to work at any rate until a doctor
clears you.”

“
First off,” I croaked, my
Demi Moore voice was back. “My family is just my mom. It’s always
been just Mom and me.”

“
I see, so your father is
totally out of the picture?”

“
I don’t remember him, if
that's what you’re asking. He left us when I was about a year old.
They divorced.”

“
What kind of a man
doesn’t contact his daughter?” Trey asked more to himself than to
me, shaking his head in disapproval.

“
He did send money,
though,” I offered. “About the hospital bill, I have some money in
my college trust. There’s almost $50,000 the last time I checked
the balance. I can pay my hospital bill out of that. I really don’t
want you to feel responsible for picking up the tab on something
caused by my own poor judgment.”

“
Tylar,” he implored, “I
don’t want you to worry about the hospital bill. I'll cover it, do
you understand? I won't have you exhaust your college funds when I
can well afford to pay it.”

“
But I feel responsible,”
I interrupted.

He raked both hands
through his thick hair; he looked at me with blue eyes blazing.
“And just what does that accomplish? So you don’t finish college,
then what? You find some nice good ‘ole boy to share his trailer
with you? Maybe raise a pack of brats until he moves on to another
trailer, stealing your best years?”

That was a low blow. “I
didn’t deserve that!” I hissed. “Maybe I wasn’t born into wealth
and privilege like you, but I do have some pride and dignity. I
don’t need your charity."

I turned my face away from
him totally pissed off. He was at the side of my bed in a flash,
turning my chin, forcing me to look at him. I hated that he saw a
tear roll down my cheek. He brushed his thumb down my right cheek,
catching the tear that rolled down it.

“
Hey now,” he spoke
softly, his anger dissipating, “you're right, I was out of line
with what I said, Tylar. I'd no right to say something like that to
you. I guess I wanted you to accept what I was offering and was mad
when you refused it. I'm used to getting my way on things. I’m
sorry, Tylar.”

I wasn't sure why he
affected me this way. His apology was sincere. The sob that I'd
been holding back finally escaped. A fresh tear rolled down my left
check, onto his hands that were gently framing my face, followed by
another. He leaned into me, his face now very close to mine. Close
enough that I could feel his warm breath near my lips. I closed my
eyes, tilting my face up a bit, waiting to feel his lips on mine
and wanting to feel them more than I'd ever wanted anything
else.

Then nothing
happened.

I opened one eye and then
the other; he'd moved back from me, his eyes still studying mine
with obvious indecision. His hands released my face and he stood up
abruptly, his brow furrowed in confusion.

God! Idiot cracker number
two!!

I scooted away from him on
the bed, smoothing my hair nervously. "Apology accepted; I'm good,
Trey."

He handed my cell phone to
me, his eyes now searching my face.

“
What?” I
asked.

“
Call your mother, Tylar,”
he instructed, “she needs to know what’s going on and I need to
know what your plans are so that I can schedule adjustments with
the staff.”

I took my phone from him
and pulled up my mom’s number. It didn’t ring. There was a
three-tone signal followed by a digital recording stating that the
number dialed was either out of service or had been disconnected.
No further information was available. I snapped the phone shut and
let it fall onto my bed.

Trey looked at me
expectantly, “Well?”

“
It’s either out of
service or has been disconnected. You had the right number after
all.”

“
Is this typical of your
mom?” he questioned.

“
Nothing is typical about
my mom.”

Trey was losing patience
with me. His voice had an edge to it. “Tylar,” he implored, “there
must be a friend, a neighbor, someone you can call to get word to
your mom about your injury.”

“
Look,” I snapped, “maybe
she hasn’t paid her cell phone bill. It happens. If you think for
one minute that my mother wants me back in her house to make sure I
recover to your expectations well then you're delusional. She has
her own life to live and apparently, that's what she's doing. That
phone works both ways you know. It’s not as if she has called me in
the last three weeks. If you don’t believe me, check the call log
for yourself!”

Trey was momentarily taken
aback by my outburst. “What about a job? Does she work somewhere
that we can call?”

“
She works Tuesday,
Thursday, and Friday for Findley, Morris & Sneed. It’s a law
firm in Louisville. You can call her but I won’t. Just ask for
Maggie.”

He sighed audibly, walking
over to the side of the bed where I could see him. He had his suit
jacket slung over his shoulder. He lowered himself down on his
haunches so that his face was inches from mine once again. Oh God
why didn't he kiss me? I knew he'd wanted to and I knew I'd wanted
him to more than anything! My body ached for something it didn’t
know. Why him?

“
Tylar, I'll have someone
here tomorrow to take you back to your cottage, okay?”

“
Thank you,” I replied,
smiling, “Could you please have them bring something for me to
wear?”

“
Sure,” he responded
politely. “Ray and I'll review the staffing schedule for the next
couple of weeks to see who we can move around to cover your duties
and where we might put you in the interim.”

“
I appreciate that, Trey.”
And then he was gone.

At 9:30 a.m. the following
morning Denise barreled through my hospital door, carrying a bag of
clothes with her. “Ray let me into your cottage sweetie. I got you
a pair of jeans, bra, panties, tee shirt, and these sneakers. Will
that do?”

“
Denise, you’re an angel,”
I said.

As Denise drove us back to
Sinclair Stables, I quizzed her. “Have I missed anything good since
I’ve been out of commission?”

“
Well, honey, I’m not sure
what you consider
good
. Let’s see. I did hear Ray say that Derringer is eating well
again. Oh and the races will start over at the track Saturday
evening. Everybody’s excited about that. Ray said you're to take it
easy today and he'll stop over later to fill you in on your revised
schedule.”

“
I can hardly wait to get
back to work. I feel perfectly fine you know. I hope Trey didn’t
tell Ray to schedule me somewhere boring, like over at the
Belle.”

“
Well, whatever you're
instructed to do, Tylar, it’s for your own good. Keep that in mind,
you hear?”

“
Yes, Mom,” I
teased.

Pulling down the long
drive at the Sinclair estate, I spotted Clint and Luke out in the
pasture, exercising Ariel and the brown chestnut, Socrates. Both
horses were being worked to race at the track over at the Belle.
Denise tapped her horn, getting Luke and Clint’s attention. I waved
eagerly at them from the passenger seat. Clint recognized me
immediately, pulling off his hat and waving it back and forth while
Socrates, startled by the car horn, pranced.