Park Avenue (Book Six in the Fifth Avenue Series) (27 page)

“That’s a little
difficult to do.”
 
Her mouth was
dry.
 
She paused to lick her lips,
but it was worthless.
 
Mario offered
her an ice cube.

“Drink?” she asked.

“Not yet.”

She took the cube.
 
“They operated on my eye?”

He nodded.

“Couldn’t see out of it
last night.
 
Will I be all right?”

She could sense his
hesitation.
 
“The doctor is hoping
for the best.”

“That’s not the answer I
hoped to hear.”

“She thinks there’s every
reason to believe you’ll see again.”

“There’s a chance that I
won’t?”
 
She couldn’t keep the alarm
from her voice.
 
She felt panic rise
up within her.
 
She thought of
Celina and her mother, and wished they were here with her.
 
Celina would be working the hospital
staff and demanding answers while Mario and Elizabeth would be keeping her
calm.

“We don’t know,
Leana.
 
The bandage needs to stay on
for five to six days, then the doctor will examine you and we’ll have a better
idea of where you stand.
 
Either way,
after the bandage, you’ll need to wear an eyepatch for the next several weeks.”

“The hotel is opening
soon.
 
There’s too much to do.
 
I haven’t told you about my talk with my
father last night.
 
I can’t blow
it.”

“Several days of rest and
then, if you’re well enough, the doctor said you can do light work.
 
But only with the patch, not without
it.”

She turned away from him
and, in that moment, saw that they weren’t alone.
 
Standing across from them, near the
exit, was Sean Scott, her head of security.
 
His hands were clasped behind him.
 
He was staring straight ahead, hearing
every word but professional enough to appear as if he heard nothing.
 

“Should have listened to
you,” she said to him.

“I’m sorry, Miss Redman?”

“Should have listened to
you.”

“No one could have
anticipated this.”

“You did.
 
You offered to shadow me. ”

The credit was there for
him to take, but he didn’t.
 
“Everyone at the site wants you to know that they’re concerned about you
and thinking of you.”

It was difficult for her
to form words, but she fought through the challenge and managed in spite of how
weak she sounded.
 
“Tell them I
appreciate that.
 
Tell them I’ll be
fine.
 
Did Mario give you my phone?”
 

“He did, Miss Redman.”

“Was it broken?”

“All in one piece.
 
It’s with my contact at the FBI and it’s
being looked into now.”

She nodded her thanks to
him, and looked at Mario.
 
“I am
going to be OK, aren’t I?”

“You will.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying to
you.
 
The doctor says we have a good
chance—”

“Chance?”

“We need to wait this out
for a few days, Leana.
 
See how the
surgery went.
 
Listen to the
doctor.”

“Did you call my father?”

“I did.”

“Did he come?”

He didn’t answer.

“I feel
sick,” she said.
 
And then she was.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR

By afternoon, her head
started to clear and bouquets of flowers began to arrive by the dozens, most of
which Leana asked the nurses to deliver to the children’s ward.
 
She kept only those from Mario, Michael,
her crew, Anastassios and Zack Anderson.
 

Nothing arrived from her
father.
 
He hadn’t called or stopped
by.

“Have you called him
again?” she asked Mario.

“I have.”

“Did he say if he was
coming?”

“He told me to look after
you.
 
He said he’d come by if he
could.”

*
 
*
 
*

On the afternoon news,
the shooting that took place at the Best Buy on Lex was the lead story.
 
Not one station left out the fact that
George Redman’s daughter was among those who were hurt.
 

She hadn’t seen the
papers yet, but Mario told her that, yes, they covered the situation and that,
yes, they used photographs of her on the front pages of the
Times
, the
Post
and the
Daily News
.

“Did the papers mention
the hotel?” she asked.

He furrowed his brow at
her.
 
“They did.”

“Did they mention the
date we open?”

“I don’t remember,
Leana.”

“I need you to do me a
favor,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“Ask Zack Anderson to
stop by today.”

“Your brother’s coming
by.
 
The doctor warned against too
many visitors.
 
How about if Zack
comes by tomorrow?”

“I need to see him
today.
 
The sooner the better.”

*
 
*
 
*

Against Mario’s better
judgment, Zack arrived an hour later.

When he came through the
door, he wasn’t wearing a suit, but jeans and a black T-shirt, each of which
was smudged with dirt, sweat and dust.
 

“Sorry I look like hell,”
he said.
 
“We’re in the middle of
it.
 
Every hand counts.”
 

Mario nodded at him and
stepped out of the room while Zack moved to the side of Leana’s bed.
 
Sean, however, remained.

“Leana, I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be
sorry about, Zack.
 
I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but Sean
and his team are on top of it.
 
So
are my fiancé and his family.
 
The
reason I asked you to come by is because we have an opportunity to discuss.”

“What do you mean?”

“You of all people have a
handle on what’s happening in this town.
 
Who is being talked about and who isn’t.
 
What’s been the reaction to what
happened to me?”

He shrugged.
 
“You’re everywhere.
 
Everyone is talking about it.
 
This morning, you were news on the
morning talk shows—even some of the national ones.
 
Today, you’re on the front page of the
Times
.
 
And by the way, just so you know, they
used a knock-out photo of you.”

“Which photo?”

“You were in jeans and
this incredible rope of diamonds.
 
You looked on trend and hot.”

“Well, thank God for
that.”

“The AP picked it
up.
 
The press was outside when I
came in.
 
Everyone wants a piece of
you.”

“Then that’s what we’ll
give them.”

“Leana, I may be wrong,
but from what I’ve heard, I don’t think you’re in shape to see anyone.”

“Actually, to be honest,
I can only see half of anyone.
 
But
here’s what I have in mind, Zack.
 
When I leave here in a few days, do you think the press will still be
outside?”

“Are you joking?
 
It’s not just the
Times
waiting
for you.
 
It’s bloggers, TMZ,
television, radio, and other newspapers, some of which are international
because Redman International is, after all, international.
 
I have a feeling you don’t like being
associated with your father’s business, but like it or not, you are, Leana,
particularly after what happened to your sister.
 
They’re all drawing connections between
Celina’s death and what just happened to you.
 
‘Is Leana Redman Next?’
 
That sort of thing.
 
They’re making a story out of it, so you
need to be prepared for that.
 
They
all want that first shot of you when you come out of the hospital and they’ll
stay because they heard it won’t be long before you’re released.”

“So, here’s what we do,”
she said.
 
“And please trust me when
I say that I asked you here because only you will get it and do it right.
 
But you’ll need to act quickly.
 
This is something we can’t blow.”

“What is it?”

She told him.

“Are you sure?”

“It needs to be subtle.”

“This isn’t subtle.”

“Try.”

“Are you on medication
right now?”

“Why?”

“I’ll
do my best,” he said.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE

Michael arrived just
after three.
 
He looked tall and
handsome, not unlike a younger version of their father, only somehow more
refined and without a trace of the arrogance.
 

When the door started to
swing shut behind him, Leana turned and noted a huddle of nurses and doctors
looking in just beyond it.
 
All were
trying to catch a glimpse of the movie star and best-selling novelist before
the door closed to offer a moment of privacy.

“I don’t know how you do
it,” she said.
 
“It seems so
invasive.”

“It’s all of the
billboards they’ve put up, but I’m used to it.”
 
He kissed her on the forehead and
brushed her hair away from her face.
 
For a moment, he looked at her in concern before sitting in the chair
beside her.

“I saw one of the
billboards yesterday,” she said.
 
“It was towering in midtown.
 
You were shirtless.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Teasing.”

“Maybe I should just
stick to writing novels.
 
When
you’re a writer, it’s enough to get you a good table at a good restaurant, but
nothing more. I’d be fine with that.”

“I think you’re a bit
beyond that now.
 
When does the new
movie come out again?”

“Next month.”

“Apparently, next month
is the beginning and the end of everything.
 
Have the stars aligned, or have they
collapsed?”

“What are you talking
about?”

“Nothing,” she said.
 
“It’s not important.
 
September is going to be one strange,
intense month.
 
That’s all.”

He looked around the
room.
 
“Mario isn’t here?”

“He’s getting
coffee.
 
And probably taking a
much-needed break from me.
 
Poor
guy.
 
I’m not exactly the easiest
patient.
 
I can’t sit still, which
I’m supposed to do.
 
I shouldn’t be
talking as much as I have been, because I’m supposed to rest.
 
I need to ease up and do what the doctor
asked of me—heal and relax.
 
Only, I’m not built that way, so it’s a problem.”

“You should do as you’re
told.
 
You had surgery, but that’s
all I’ve heard.
 
What’s going on?”

She told him.

“How serious is it?”

“Well, I couldn’t see out
of my right eye going into surgery.
 
My eye is sealed shut under the bandage, and everything is dark.
 
Not even a hint of daylight.
 
I guess we’ll know in a few days how
good my surgeon was.”

“You know,” he said, “if
you want to just talk, I’m here for you.
 
You don’t need to be glib, especially with me.”

“Michael, if I weren’t
glib or sarcastic or making jokes, I’d go into a funk.
 
I have to keep my sense of humor.
 
I know this might not turn out well for
me, so I try to keep things light.
 
I can’t let it get the best of me.
 
At least not until I hear the news.
 
Then I guess I’ll deal with whatever they have to say and I’ll find a
way around it if things don’t go well.
 
But this sure as hell isn’t going to beat me even if I do lose my
eyesight.”