Chapter Twelve
1928 Words
On their way to the hospital, George rang Ross to tell him he already discharged, and he would be at his house waiting for him.
The building which housed George’s offices was also where he lived. He lived on the tenth floor. He had converted the space into a penthouse that overlooked the lower parts of the town centre as far as the eye could see.
His apartment included three bedrooms, three baths, a spacious open-plan living room and kitchen, a study and a small balcony which was through the living room. George explained this to her as he led them inside the living room. It was for her benefit because it was clear Ross was familiar with his home.
The moment Elizabeth walked in; she fell in love with the contemporary furniture. The cream wallpaper and the small splashes of colour that were cushions, picture frames and other brick a brack which looked out of place in the masculine environment as if someone had placed them there to give the place a more feminine touch.
An IKEA catalogue looked luxurious compared to the furnishing of his apartment. There were not many personal pictures that she could see. But the rooms they passed had expensive furniture.
He led them to his living room and told them to make themselves at home.
She sat on the edge of one of his sofas. Her eyes roamed the room taking in the state-of-the-art television and sound system attached to one of the walls.
Ross made himself at home and was sitting in one of the two armchairs with a look of contentment on his face.
In the other armchair, George sat stiffly and surveyed her. “Have you agreed to help me out?”
He was always blunt; she realized. He did not appear pleased about her helping him out.
“Yes. Ross asked me for a favour,” she replied.
“Since you’ve agreed to help. I have asked my solicitor to draw up a contract. It should be ready by tomorrow.”
“How much will you pay me; my services don’t come cheap?” she muttered, eyeing him coolly.
An image of him with a gun in his hand came to her mind. “Don’t forget to add extra for previous services rendered,” she added.
He scoffed lightly and she resisted the urge to smirk at him.
Elizabeth was aware of Ross watching them and she wondered if his keen detective senses could detect the reason for their current disagreement. Probably not, she thought he was no psychic, but she knew he suspected sometimes, he was surveying them more than usual.
“My bandage needs changing. We can work out the details of the contract, while you change it for me.”
“Do you have fresh bandages?” Elizabeth stared at his shoulder trying to assess what she would need.
“My secretary bought me a first aid kit. It should have all you need to use right now. Whatever we do not have, you can pick up tomorrow.”
“Where is the first aid kit?” she asked, scanning the table nearby.
“Everything’s in the bedroom.”
He rose to his feet, trying not to jar his shoulder. “The stuff’s this way,” he said, beckoning her to follow him.
As Elizabeth followed him, she threw her brother a glance for support, but his eyes were closed. What a lousy chaperone he made she thought shaking her head.
Elizabeth entered the bedroom behind George. She waited near the door as he walked to his chest of drawers and took the first aid kit out and attempted to open it with one hand.
“For God’s sake, just sit down,” she said impatiently. Forgetting her bedside manner, she grabbed the kit from his hands.
“Your bedside manner sucks,” he muttered.
She glared at him but did not rise to his baiting. She took the kit to the edge of the bed and opened it.
Ruffling through the contents, she placed all the things she needed on the bed.
When she finished, she met his eye. “How did you get them to let you out of the hospital?”
“I have my ways,” he declared.
“You badgered them until they couldn’t take it anymore. Didn’t you?” She sized him up. “I bet they let you out for their sanity.”
He gave her a mirthless laugh. “You hit the nail right on the head.” George swept her with an assessing gaze, then pointed to his shirt. “Would you help me with my shirt?”
Grimacing, she stared at him. “Every time I see you, you want to take your kit off?”
He smiled. “I can’t help it if you make me want to get naked,” he answered.
Elizabeth gave him a pointed stare. “Keep your shamelessness to yourself, this is for medical reasons.”
“Well, a man can dream, can’t he?” he flirted.
She raised her chin and met his eyes. “Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself,” she suggested as she unbuttoned his shirt.
She could see there was lots of blood that had leaked through the bandage. “I guess you should wear darker tops from now on,” she counselled, showing him the blots of bloodstains.
George nodded.
Elizabeth undid the buttons fast, hoping that her mind would not take her to places she did not want it to. She noticed him watching her, but she refused to meet his eyes.
“What should I do about your sister?” she asked, hoping to fill the tense silence with conversation.
“Do you expect it would be too much if you still see her during the day and in the evening, you could come here and help me out with this?”
She frowned as she helped him to shrug out of the shirt. “It’s doable.”
George nodded. “Are you able to maintain client nurse confidentiality?”
Elizabeth began undoing the bandage. They wrapped it over his shoulder and under his rib. “What do you take me for?” she said, pausing in her task. “Of course, I learnt when to keep my mouth shut.” She resumed her task.
George winced as she peeled the bandages off with quick and practised movements. “I have seen you a few times now in the last few days and I still don’t believe we’ve spoken to each other properly.” He looked up at her with eyes that seem to see through her.
She was too near him she thought. His breath fanning her face prickled her skin.
Unwrapping the wound completely, she stood back and examined the work which went into putting him back together.
“You’re lucky you didn’t die,” she heard herself say as she stared at his puffy skin.
Turning to gather the antiseptic wipes, she wiped the narrow shape left by the knife.
“That’s what the doctor said,” he replied, watching her every move.
Performing in silence, she felt his eyes on her.
“How have you been doing these days?” he asked as if he was trying to fill the thick silence with words.
Elizabeth paused. “I’ve been fine. Why are you so curious?”
“No reason,” he retorted but she felt there was a lot more he was not saying. “Ross tells me you’re seeing someone. Is he nice?”
She scrunched up her face as she turned to pick up the bandage.
“I don’t see how it’s any of your business?”
“Well, it is my business because you are my best friend’s sister.”
“Thanks for your concern, but I don’t need it.” Her words were sharp.
Straightaway his shoulders stiffened. “Must everything with you be combative?”
“Hold this,” she said. Handing him the edge of the bandage, she leaned in closer and wrapped it around his chest and over his shoulder a few times.
As she did the bandaging, her steady hands trembled, and she glanced at him to see if he had noticed.
He did not.
Thank God, she thought.
With the bandaging done, she closed the first aid kit. “What do you want me to do with these?” she said, holding up the bloodstained strips of cloth.
“You can put it in the bathroom there. My housekeeper will be in tomorrow. She’ll get rid of them.” He pointed in the direction to his right.
“You have a housekeeper?” Her gaze swept the room.
It was clean, like the rest of his place. She had just assumed he was a neat freak, but it figures he would have someone cleaning for him.
“Yes,” he replied. “Why do you sound like you’re judging me again?”
She shook her head and moved to the en-suite and dumped the bandages in the bin.
Once she returned, he handed her a fresh shirt to help him with.
Gently, she put the sleeve on the injured arm first, then the good arm and began doing the buttons from the top to the bottom.
“I wasn’t judging you, it surprised me. You always struck me as the type to have your mother doing the cooking and cleaning.”
“You assume I’m a mama’s boy?” He levelled a hard look at her.
“Well, if you want to word it like that,” she mumbled as she did the last button and stepped away from him.
Still sitting on the bed, he surveyed her with a frown. “I’ve always wanted to learn why you don’t like me,” he asked.
Talk about putting her on the spot.
“Just accept that we will never be friends,” she mumbled. “And for your information, I can still help you, but don’t like you,” she said.
“Fine. I can live with that,” he said reluctantly.
“Me too,” she agreed.
He surveyed her with a glint in his eye. “About the contract, I will have it ready for you.”
“You’re not going to put some unreasonable clauses in there, are you?”
“Why?” he said, his brows raised. “Would you sign it if I added tucking me in at night as part of it?”
She eyed him up and down. “Don’t you dare!”
He chuckled. “Don’t look so horrified. I was only joking.”
Shaking her head, she wondered if she should just forget about helping her brother. “Should we get back to Ross?” she said haughtily.
George rose to his feet and led the way back out of the bedroom again.
Behind him, she stared at his broad back. It was a nice back she thought, and she wondered how often he worked out to get it so shapely.
The thought took her by surprise, and she dismissed it.
- Writer
