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"Done." Dylan inclined his head in Carson's direction. "I'm taking her to El Faro. Does that work for you?"
"Yeah. Good choice. Crowded, but after a few drinks it won't matter." A corner of Carson's mouth lifted, even as his eyelids drooped. "Get the white sangria… goes well with the shrimp green... Get two pitchers of sangria…
Tomorrow's Saturday... Our new president's day off... She can sleep in… So can our corporate counsel."
Sabrina blinked, studying Carson, whose eyes had drifted shut. If she didn't know better, she'd swear he was trying to manipulate the evening so it ended up with her and Dylan "sleeping in" together. But that was absurd. It had to be a coincidence—one that just happened to strike too close to home.
She glanced at Dylan, whose startled expression matched hers. Clearly, the same thoughts were running through his head.
He met her gaze and shrugged. "Let's go. He's half-asleep."
"Apparently." She scooped up her jacket and took a step toward the door.
At the same moment, it swung open, and Susan walked in. She looked pale, the area around her eyes— even concealed by extra makeup—swollen from crying. "Hi." She managed a smile. "The nurse told me you two were with Carson. Don't worry, I won't interrupt. I just wanted to check in on him. After that, I promise to wait in the lounge until you've finished your business."
"That's not necessary. We just wrapped up." Sabrina waved away the offer, walking over to Susan and touching her arm. "Susan, I'm so sorry about Russ. I know he was part of your YouthOp family, and that's how he came to R
uisseau. I've heard such wonderful things about him. I feel terrible."
Fresh tears dampened Susan's lashes, and she blinked them away. "Thank you. Yes, Russ was about the most glowing example of YouthOp's potential there could be. He was special. He would have made a real difference in this world. What happened to him was such a waste. Everyone at YouthOp is heartsick...." An unsteady pause. "Anyway, I appreciate your sympathy."
"Carson's hurting, too," Dylan stated flatly, his tone so pointed that Sabrina flinched. Not that she disagreed with Dylan's feelings. He was looking out for Carson, reminding Susan that she wasn't the only one who'd suffered a loss. But how Susan would react to such a direct hit was anyone's guess. More important, how Carson would react when he woke up and Susan told him about Dylan's barbed comment—that was an even bigger question.
Sabrina got her answer sooner than expected.
"Cool it, Dylan...." Carson's voice, tired but adamant, sounded from the bed.
"It's okay," Susan responded, cutting Carson off before he got himself upset. "Dylan's right. You are hurting. And I've been a basket case, which is the last thing you need right now."
"Good. Then we're on the same page." Dylan wasn't giving, not an inch, no matter how ticked off Carson got. "Sabrina and I are heading off to dinner. We'll leave you two alone—to comfort each other." He turned toward the bed, totally disregarding Carson's warning scowl. "Get some rest. I'll be by tomorrow."
"Me, too," Sabrina added. Interesting that Carson now looked fully awake. Whether he'd gotten a second wind or was putting on a show for Susan's sake was anyone's guess.
Actually, there was a third choice. Carson could have been more awake a few minutes ago than he wanted her or Dylan to realize. In which case, he was pulling some very interesting strings.
She tucked that thought away for further contemplation.
"By the way, Sabrina—" Susan's tone said she was trying to smooth things over. "I saw your mother here this morning. I would have introduced myself, but she was heading in the other direction. Did the two of you connect?"
Now that revelation came at Sabrina out of left field.
Carson hadn't said a word about Susan being aware of Gloria's visit. What had he told her?
She tossed an uncertain glance in his direction.
"There's no way they could have connected, Suze," he interceded, not missing a beat. "Sabrina hasn't seen the light of day.... Hasn't even breathed since eight A.M. She's been in meetings from then till now.... But I'm glad you reminded me.... I almost forgot to tell her about this morning's mix-up.... Damned medication clouds my thinking."
He angled his head toward Sabrina. "Your mother called Ruisseau this morning looking for you.... Someone screwed up... told her you were at Mount Sinai, that your meeting with me was first thing in the day rather than last.... So she grabbed a cab and came here.... By the time we got our signals straight, you were already in the middle of that big powwow with Stan.... She said it could wait.... Talk about a comedy of errors..."
"I see." Quickly, Sabrina assimilated the story Carson had fabricated. She was very touched that he'd gone to such lengths to honor his promise not to divulge who she was, even to Susan. After all, Susan wasn't just anyone— she was a fundamental person in his life.
A person who deserved to know the truth, not along with the rest of the world, but privately and in advance.
Sabrina was the only one who could make that happen.
"Your poor mother." Susan grimaced, mistaking Sabrina's silence for irritation. "She rode all the way uptown for nothing. She must have blown half a business day. Will she be very upset?"
"Not at all." Sabrina recovered, regained her stride. "My mother's used to my insane schedule. She won't be the least bit upset, especially since we just had dinner together last night. I'll give her a call from my cell as soon as I leave the hospital."
