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“Yes,” Kellie says kindly. Standing at the end of the bed, I watch as Ana carefully covers Ray’s hand with hers. Abruptly, she sinks into the chair beside the bed, lays her head on his arm, and starts sobbing.
Oh no.
I move quickly to comfort her.
“Oh, Daddy. Please get better,” she pleads quietly. “Please.”
Feeling utterly fucking powerless, I place my hand on her shoulder and clasp it tightly, trying to offer her some reassurance. “All Mr. Steele’s vitals are good,” Kellie says quietly.
“Thank you,” I mutter, because I don’t know what else to say.
“Can he hear me?” Ana asks.
“He’s in a deep sleep. But who knows?”
“Can I sit for a while?”
“Sure thing.” Kellie gives Ana a warm smile.
Ana is where she needs to be right now, and I should make arrangements for us to stay in Portland. There’s no way we’re going home tonight. I squeeze her shoulder once more and she raises her eyes to mine. “I need to make a call.” I drop a kiss on her head. “I’ll be outside. I’ll give you some alone time with your dad.”
From the sixth floor waiting room I call my mother. This time she answers, and I update her on Raymond Steele’s condition.
She takes a deep breath. “It sounds critical. I want to come and see him—”
“Mom. You don’t—”
“No. Christian. I want to. Ana is family. I have to come down and check on him myself. Carrick and I will drive down.”
“I can fly you down.”
“What?”
“My helicopter is here, but Taylor is taking it back to Seattle. Stephan can fly you down here.”
“That sounds good. Let’s do that.”
“Okay. I’ll let Taylor know, and you can liaise with him.”
“I’ll do that. Christian, Ray is in good hands.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I call Taylor and let him know about my mother.
Then I call Andrea. “Mr. Grey. How’s Mr. Steele?”
“He’s in serious condition. We’ll be here for at least two nights. I’m going to have to do something for Ana’s birthday here, if we do anything at all. Maybe a private dinner, if she’s up to it. I’d like her family and our friends to attend, too. But we should see how Ray does during the night.”
“I can talk to The Heathman and see if they’ll accommodate a private dinner.”
“Good. Ana needs her mom, so let’s bring her and her husband out as planned. Book rooms for them, for my folks and the rest of our guests, and make provisional arrangements to get them here. My mother will be joining us this evening. Please book her into The Heathman tonight.”
“Will do.”
“Find out José Rodriguez’s cell number. I’d like to invite him, too.”
“I’ll text you.”
“Thanks, Andrea.” I hang up and call Mrs. Jones to confirm that tomorrow’s surprise dinner party at Escala is canceled.
“I hope Mr. Steele makes a swift recovery,” Gail says.
“Yes. I do, too. I’m sorry about tomorrow.”
“It’s no trouble, Mr. Grey. There’ll be another time.”
“There will. Thanks, Gail.” I hang up and return to the ICU. At the nurses’ station I give Kellie my cell number and Ana’s, with instructions to call us if there’s a change in Ray’s condition. It’s time I took my wife for something to eat.
When I return to Ray’s bedside, Ana is talking to him and her tears have ceased. She’s composed and her face shines with her love for the man out cold and prostrate beside her.
It’s an affecting sight.
And I feel I’m intruding.
But I don’t want to go.
Quietly, I take a seat and listen to her soft, sweet voice. She’s asking him to come to Aspen, where I’ll take him fishing. Her words tug at my heart. Ana is my family now, like my mother said, and by extension, so is Ray. I see us side by side, casting flies in the Roaring Fork River or up on Snowmass Lake. Ray taciturn. Me relaxed and equally taciturn.
The two of us sharing a beer later.
“Mr. Rodriguez and José will be welcome, too. It’s such a beautiful house. There’s room for all of you. Please be here to do that, Daddy. Please.”
Okay. Ray, José Senior, José, and me fishing together.
Yes. I could do that.
She turns and notices me.
“Hi,” I murmur.
“Hi.”
“So, I’m going fishing with your dad, Mr. Rodriguez, and José?”
She nods.
“Okay.” I smile in agreement. “Let’s go eat. Let him sleep.” Ana frowns, and I know she doesn’t want to leave her father. “Ana, he’s in a coma. I’ve given our cell numbers to the nurses here. If there’s any change, they’ll call us. We’ll eat, check in to a hotel, rest up, then come back this evening.”
She looks longingly at Ray, then back at me. “Okay,” she capitulates.
Ana stands in the doorway of our suite at The Heathman, surveying the familiar room. She looks shell-shocked.
Or perhaps she’s remembering the first time I brought her here, though that’s doubtful, as she was blind drunk at the time. I place her briefcase beside one of the sofas. “Home away from home,” I murmur.
