Saved by The Boss

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Romy was still shell-shocked when she went to her mother’s house that evening. Part of it was admittedly from the additional time she’d spent giddily talking in Blue’s office—he’d insisted she call him that—and the rest was entirely due to his revelation.

“Why didn’t you tell me Stuart was Blue Allende’s father?”

Magda Sasse looked up from the cutting board and grinned at her middle daughter’s abrupt greeting. “Hello to you, too. Because, dear one, Blue said he didn’t want you to know right away. He wanted you to be on his service and thought you might not want to if you knew. Your reputation as a first-class doctor precedes you, honey, and I’m very proud.”

Romy smiled and hugged her mother. “Thank you, Momma Bear. Anyway, Blue told me he will be with us for Thanksgiving?” Upon hearing that, she’d been hard-pressed to keep it together in the surgeon’s office. Blue in her home, having dinner with her family … why was that weirdly hot?

“Will it be awkward?” her mother asked in concern.

Romy hoisted herself up onto the kitchen counter and stole a piece of bell pepper Magda was slicing for salad. “I don’t think so. Well, at least I hope not. He’s a pretty even-tempered guy.”

Magda smiled. “You like him?”

God, yes. He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met.

“Yeah, he’s nice.”

Nice was an understatement.

“He’s an incredible surgeon. Watching him is like watching a maestro at work.”

“Speaking of maestros.” Magda often changed the direction of conversations on a whim, so Romy wasn’t fazed. “Your sister has a new job. She’s going to work for Livia’s foundation as a lecturer.”

Romy’s eyebrows shot up. “She is? Juno’s moving out?”

Her youngest sister, Juno, was the sister who most resembled their free-spirited mother. Tall and willowy, with a shock of messy blonde hair, and a confirmed tomboy, Juno Sasse had made music her first love and passion from a young age. She was the cherished baby of the family and Romy had half-suspected she’d never leave.

“She is,” Magda confirmed, a touch of melancholy in her voice. Eternally supportive of her daughters though she was, Romy knew her mother would struggle with empty nest syndrome. “Although I’m trying desperately not to think about that day. She’s starting in the New Year, so at least we’ll have Christmas as a family.”

“With Stuart’s family too?”

Magda shot her a nervous look. “Well, yes. If that’s okay with you and Arti.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Romy asked.

Magda sighed. “There is some, how can I put it, some unpleasantness with Stuart’s wife. Hopefully soon to be ex-wife, if she ever signs the damn papers. She keeps harassing Stuart, usually through her son.”

Romy raised an eyebrow, not liking the sound of that. “What’s the son’s name again?”

“Gaius. I’ve only met him once, but he seems friendly enough. Hasn’t Blue ever mentioned him?”

“We’re careful to keep family stuff away from work, and I don’t actually socialize with Blue Allende, remember? We’d never even met until today. He might be my brother soon, but he’s still in a league of his own.” Romy grinned as Magda rolled her eyes.

“You mean you don’t socialize at all. Romy, you’re beautiful, you’re young … don’t let what happened in New York stop you from living your life.”

Romy grimaced, feeling the familiar cold feeling at the memories. “Mom … Dacre doesn’t know I’m back home, and if he finds out, he’ll come here and … God, I don’t want to imagine.”

Her mother looked down at her hands as they continued to move swiftly, her knife skills in the kitchen as good as any surgeon’s were in an operating theater. “I hate that you were with him. You’re too young to have gone through a divorce or anything else he did to you.”

Romy marshalled her emotions, reminding herself that those days were long past. She was safe now, however much Dacre Mortimer was an animal. Her leg still hurt from where he’d stamped on it and broken it the previous year at the same time that he’d almost beaten her to death.

“Look, at least I learned a lesson,” Romy said to her mother now. “Don’t go on first impressions. Dacre was Mr. Charm until he wasn’t.”

“Was that a dig at me?” Magda didn’t sound upset, just sad. “Because I know Stuart and I haven’t known each other that long.”

Romy hopped down to kiss her mother’s cheek and gave her a warm hug.

“Mom, no, it wasn’t a dig at you, more one at myself.”

Magda smiled in relief. “Romy, I have never felt like this. Not even with your father,” she added apologetically.

“I figured, with Dad.” Romy nodded, unsurprised.

Romy’s father, a professor of Magda’s back in the day, had never been present much in his daughters’ lives. He supported them financially, but soon after Juno had been born, he and Magda had quietly and amicably divorced and James Sasse had remarried and moved to London. Being a single mother didn’t faze Magda and she’d somehow kept her girls clothed and fed as they grew, bringing them all up to be independent young people who never depended on someone else.

The loss of Remy, Romy’s brother, had shattered them all, but the four women were as close now as they had ever been. Artemis, Magda’s eldest, had followed her father into the teaching profession and now taught physics at the University of Washington. Romy had headed for medical school as soon as she graduated from Harvard, and Juno was a musical prodigy. The one thing James had provided was money for their education, and Magda was grateful for that, she often told Romy.

Magda had been brought up in a hippie commune and she’d carried those values her whole life, finally having reached a point in her life where she could sculpt for a living.

Which was why Romy and her sisters had been astounded to hear that Magda was about to marry a multi-billionaire. Stuart Eames had made his fortune in tech and had such a large share of the tech market that no one could compete. Romy was looking forward to meeting the billionaire who had captured her mother’s laidback heart.

A random thought occurred to her as she reached for the salad bowl and started to assemble the various ingredients her mother had diced. “How come Blue has a different last name?”

Magda drained the pot of rice she was cooking. “He’s Stuart’s son from an affair.”

Romy’s eyebrows shot up.

“I think his mother was Italian,” Magda went on, confirming at least that suspicion, though Romy was far more interested in the other revelation.

“So … Stuart had an affair?”

Magda gave her a warning look. “Darling, if you had ever met his wife, you wouldn’t blame him.”

Though Magda was far from conservative, she was fiercely loyal and it was an unusual stance for her to take. Nevertheless, Romy decided to let it go, at least until she’d had a chance to cross-examine Eames and ensure that he wasn’t about to cheat on her mother. Because if he did, she and her sisters would have plenty to say.

“Mom,” she said, suddenly noticing how much food her mother was preparing, “you realize there’s only four of us, right?”

“Five,” Magda flushed bright red and ducked her head. “Stuart’s joining us.”

“Oh, getting in an introduction under the wire, huh?” Romy grinned. “I guess I should help you with the rest of dinner, then …”

Stuart Eames had the same bright green eyes as his son, but his hair was close cropped and white. He had an easy smile that Romy liked, and a friendly manner which made the party all feel at ease. He greeted them all with utmost respect. “It’s so good to finally meet you. Magda is so proud of you all.”

Juno, curling herself into a chair, grinned at him. “I assure you, we don’t deserve it.”

Artemis, her blonde hair falling gracefully to her shoulders, shot her younger sister a warning look. “Don’t tease, Juno.”

Stuart laughed. “No, don’t stop teasing. Blue and I are always busting each other’s chops. It’s what families are supposed to do. Speaking of which, do you mind if I just have a quiet word with your mom about something? I swear it’ll take no more than five minutes.”

“Sure thing.”

Left alone, the sisters looked at one another.

“He’s cute,” Juno decided, and Artemis chuckled.

“Can you call a sixty-year-old cute?” Artemis smoothed her skirt down over her long legs, crossing them elegantly.

Romy sighed. Of all the Sasse sisters, she was the odd one out, dark-haired, dark eyed, and small in stature, if not in figure. Where her sisters were all long limbs and athletic, Romy was curvy, full-breasted, and petite. She still worked out as much as her siblings, but her figure was always going to be soft instead of athletic like them. Juno and Artemis took after their mother; Romy didn’t know where she’d gotten her curves from. She barely remembered what her father looked like. Oh, she knew people considered her beautiful, but she never played it up. Slightly myopic from a young age, she wore glasses instead of contacts, and stuffed her long, thick chestnut hair up into a messy bun more often than not.

Juno poked her with a foot now. “Will you be coming to our traditional Thanksgiving run this year?”

Giving her sister a cheesy smile, Romy said, “Sadly, I’ll be working.”

“Roms!”

“Sorry,” Romy sang in a not-so-at-all voice. She loathed running, unless it was towards something. Like pizza.

Juno sulked while Artemis grinned at Romy. “Nice work, Romy. And what with my broken ankle …”

“What broken ankle?” Juno shot her eldest sister a confused look.

“The one I’ll mysteriously acquire on Thanksgiving.” Artemis laughed and high-fived Romy.

“Don’t blame me when the pair of you get old and fat.” Juno sighed dramatically, then, lowering her voice, she nodded towards the kitchen where Stuart and their mother talking. “What do you think?”

“Too early to say.”

“He looks like Blue a little. Same eyes.”

Juno grinned. “You got a little crush, Romulus?”

Romy threw a pillow at her. “None of your business, quisling.”

Dinner was a fun affair, and Romy decided she liked Stuart very much. He was charming, intelligent, and seemed to adore her mother. Romy noticed, however, that Artemis was a little quieter than normal and when she questioned her sister afterward, Artemis shrugged.

“I’m just reserving judgement is all, Romy. We don’t know him that well yet.”

***

Romy went to work the next day, wondering if she should mention Stuart to Blue, but when she walked into the locker room, the place was in a chaotic state with people running every which way.

“What’s going on?” she asked, preparing herself mentally and physically for what would likely be a long haul.

“There’s been an attack at a sorority house,” Mac told her, his face pale. “Really nasty stuff. Eight girls, three dead. The rest are being brought in here. Allende is already operating.”

Every time she thought she was used to the darker side of her profession, Romy got a reality check. Because truthfully, there was no way to ever get used to innocents slaughtered.

Reaching for her scrubs automatically, she asked, “Does he want us in the observation room?”

“No.” They heard Blue’s voice behind them and turned. Clad in bloodstained scrubs, the handsome surgeon looked weary and grim-faced. “Romy, you’re with me in OR3; Mac, with Dr. Fredericks in OR7; Jim, Molly, and Flynn, emergency room until we can find theaters for the less injured girls. Come on, Romy.”

She changed and was back in under a minute. Blue briefed her on the way to theater. “Patient is Yasmin Levant, nineteen, multiple stab wounds to the abdomen, shattered left femur, looks like the killer stamped on it, possibly to incapacitate her. We’ve got Ortho coming in but her abdominal wounds are catastrophic, at least twenty-nine separate wounds.”

“God, poor girl.”

Blue nodded as they went to scrub. “Look, Romy, we’re going to do everything and anything to save her, but I have to warn you. The odds are against us.”

She’d expected as much, sadly, but appreciated the warning anyway.

After scrubbing, Romy followed him into the operating room where the victim lay on the table. She was covered in blood and barely breathing, blood bags and saline trying to keep her alive. Automatically, Romy avoided looking at anything but the injuries. Looking at the faces right off the bat when the situation was so dire … it didn’t help things.

For hours they operated, trying to repair the damage the knife had caused, pumping her full of blood, but at midnight, Blue called it. There was nothing else to do …

Yasmin Levant was dead.