Exposed to You Page 25

  Dr. Chen noticed her discomfort.

  “I’m just playing things safe, Joy,” he said comfortingly as he put away her X-rays. “The procedure will take a half hour, tops. Your family member can pick you up on Tuesday morning, if all goes well.”

  A childish loneliness surged through her at the thought of taking a taxicab to her empty apartment.

  “Can’t we do the procedure outpatient?”

  “No. The incision we’ll make is small, but I’d still prefer a night of observation afterward, just to make sure.”

  Joy sighed. “I hate staying in the hospital.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder. She looked into his kind, round face. “Most cancer survivors do. If I didn’t think it was for the best, I wouldn’t push the issue. You’ll be groggy after the procedure. Tuesday morning will be here before you have a chance to grow a worthy aversion to the hospital food.”

  Joy attempted a smile. “When will I get the results from the biopsy?”

  “I’ll insist on a rush job. I know how hard it is to wait for these things. I’ll try to get you results before I discharge you on Tuesday.”

  * * *

  That afternoon after she’d packed a bag for the hospital, she called Seth. He listened patiently while she explained about the biopsy, downplaying the fact that it would be an inpatient surgery versus an outpatient procedure.

  “Dr. Chen agreed with the doctor at Prairie Lakes. He doesn’t think it’s a return of cancer. He thinks it’s a regular old everyday infection. I wish I could get the flu like a regular person,” she added ruefully to lighten the moment.

  “When will you have the biopsy?”

  “Early Tuesday,” she lied smoothly. “It only takes ten minutes. I’ll be home later that morning.”

  “I’ll come to the hospital to get you,” Seth said.

  “No,” Joy said abruptly. If he arrived at the hospital, he’d know she’d lied about the outpatient procedure. “You’re due back in L.A. Tuesday morning. You’re supposed to be meeting with your staff about Razor Pass.”

  “It’ll wait,” Seth said bluntly.

  “I won’t have you ruining any of your plans to pick me up for a stupid little outpatient procedure. I’ll call you as soon as I get home, if you like. Where . . . where are you right now?” she asked, curious, but also wanting to change the subject.

  “I’m standing on Katie and Rill’s front porch.”

  “Did you . . . did you already pick up Amanda from the airport?”

  “Yeah. I got back early this afternoon.”

  “Do you like her?”

  “Yes, I think we’ll work well together.”

  How did Everett respond to my letter? Was he upset? Did Rill and Katie find my abrupt departure rude? What is Everett doing right this second?

  Her unspoken questions screamed into the silence.

  “I . . . er . . . suppose Everett got my letter?”

  “He got it. He wasn’t at all pleased. I can’t say I blame him.”

  Joy dipped her head and stared blankly at the overnight bag resting on her bed.

  “Is he all right?” she asked quietly.

  “No one knows. We haven’t seen him since he stormed out this morning after he confronted me over what I knew about your letter and departure.”

  The back of her neck prickled with uneasiness. “Did he leave in his car?”

  “No. The car is still in the driveway. Rill went out to the guesthouse to have a word with him before we left this morning, and Katie tried this afternoon. He’s not in there, though.”

  “And he seemed upset when he left this morning?”

  There was a pause before Seth responded quietly. “He was blindsided by your letter, Joy.”

  Joy clenched her eyes shut, an ache throbbing beneath her breast at the knowledge she had caused him pain. She knew it was for the best in the long run, but it hurt almost unbearably.

  He’d said he loved her . . .

  Don’t think about that. He didn’t mean it. It happened in a heated moment during sex.

  “Joy?” Seth prompted when she was silent for a stretched moment.

  “I might know where he is,” she said huskily. “He has a private place where he likes to go in the woods. If I give you directions, will you tell Rill or Katie how to get there? Someone should go to him.” She quickly explained about how to access the forest lake.

  “If all of this stuff with the biopsy is truly insignificant, why did you feel the need to break things off with Everett?” Seth asked, taking her by surprise.

  “One has nothing to do with the other. Everett and I just aren’t . . . suited. It’d never work.”

  “Joy—”

  “Are you going to tell Rill and Katie about the spot in the woods?”

  “I’ll make sure someone looks for him,” Seth said grimly.

  She paused, misery temporarily strangling her throat. She hated feeling at odds with Seth.

  “I’m sorry for what I said in the exam room last night. I realized on the flight home how it must have sounded to you. I want you to know, I’d never leave your side if something bad ever happened—”

  “You don’t have to tell me that. I know it,” he interrupted.

  “I was just trying to explain—”

  “I understand what you were getting at. You were trying to tell me something I’ve been too stupid to see myself. You were trying to tell me that part of you envied your father’s being able to pick up and leave during all those years of waiting and hoping and stress and misery.”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “Joy, that’s not the same thing as saying you’d do the same as Jake. It’s normal that you would have had fantasies about being able to run away.”

  She couldn’t respond at first, her throat felt too tight. She’d never been so confused about how she felt about her mother’s cancer; her cancer; her father’s leaving. It’d all become a cyclone of emotion brewing inside of her for the past week and a half.

  She sat down on the edge of her bed. “Do you really believe that?” she asked in a small voice.

  “How could you not have thought things like that once in a while, given how much Alice suffered and for how long? But I know you, Joy. You don’t have to assure me you would be there for me, or anyone you love, if they were going through a trial. I know that.”

  She moved the receiver away from her mouth so he wouldn’t hear her muffled sobs. Perhaps Seth sensed her emotional state, because he cleared his throat gruffly and changed the subject.

  “There was something I planned to talk to you about while we were in Vulture’s Canyon, but given the way things turned out, I never got the chance.”

  “What?” Joy asked, wiping a damp cheek.

  “I want to ask you to become a partner in Hightower Special Effects.”

  Joy’s mouth fell open in surprise. It’d been one of the last things she’d expected him to say.

  “It’s got nothing to do with the fact that you’re my niece,” Seth said hurriedly, as if he was expecting her to turn him down flat. “I respect your talent more than I do anyone else’s in the business. I’m always one hundred percent confident in any project you undertake. I think we work really well together.”

  “Thank you,” she said, still stunned. Seth had worked so relentlessly to make his company the success that it was today. She was deeply moved at his offer to share it with her. “Thank you so much. I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

  “Take some time to think about it, then. I know how much teaching means to you. Maybe we could figure something out? Maybe you could teach a few art classes at a junior college here in the Los Angeles area or something?”

  Joy closed her eyes. “Seth, does this offer have anything to do with the fact that you want me to move back to the west coast?”

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  She let out a ragged sigh. She wasn’t quite so sure she believed him. Six months ago, she might have resented it.
Now, she wasn’t so certain it was such a bad thing, even if Seth was trying to subtly manipulate her into moving closer to him.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said quietly. “And I am extremely flattered by the offer. Thank you. I’ll call you as soon as I get home on Tuesday?”

  “Do you promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Eighteen

  Joy had been right about the mosquito repellent, Everett thought dully as yet another red welt was raised, this one on his chest. The little buggers had been making a feast of him since his last swim in the lake. He’d grown so numb as he sat there beneath the sycamore tree that he’d stopped slapping at them when he felt them bite.

  He’d been down before. He knew what it was like to pick yourself up after you’d been body-slammed hard on the pavement, figuratively speaking. In the past, he’d taken enough time to lick his wounds and recover. Then he’d thrown himself right back into the fray and gotten what he wanted. If not that time, then the next. Persistence had always been his guiding principle. A half hour after he’d left Katie’s kitchen this morning, he’d been convinced that personal value would see him through this rough spot with Joy. He’d go after her. He’d convince her that they weren’t as different as she suspected. They could make it work.

  Now that the sun was dipping in the western sky, however, he found himself doubting. Perhaps persistence didn’t work in this murky area of romance and love? He didn’t really have enough experience with caring about someone this much to know for sure. It wasn’t Joy he doubted, it was himself—his ability to convince her he was the real thing and not some insubstantial caricature of a film star. There had been so many times when he’d looked into her eyes in the past several days that he was sure she’d been seeing him accurately, appreciating who he was as a person. In truth, he’d believed he’d seen that in her gaze since that very first time at the studio.

  Obviously he’d been kidding himself in a very large way.

  He forced himself to stand from the rock where Joy had perched while they’d made love—masochistic of him to come here, he knew. He pulled on his shorts, socks and tennis shoes and was in the process of shrugging on his T-shirt when he heard a quiet tread on the path. Seth Hightower’s head appeared over the rise. He paused, taking in the scene of the hilltop lake. Everett remained quiet. The sycamore branches protected him from sight. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be found.

  Seth took several more steps toward the lake. Curiosity overcame Everett’s need for privacy.

  “Seth.”

  Seth’s head swung around. Everett walked out from beneath the shade of the sycamore, the rays of sun immediately scorching his face.

  “Were you looking for me?” Everett asked.

  Seth nodded. Without speaking, he dug in the leg pocket of his cargo shorts and retrieved a bottle of water. Everett took it, unscrewed the cap and chugged three quarters of the contents in seconds flat. He’d become dehydrated sitting up here all day. He grunted in appreciation and wiped his mouth. Seth was staring at the tree-rimmed lake.

  “It’s pretty,” he said gruffly.

  “How did you know I’d be here?” Everett asked.

  “Joy told me where to look.”

  He stilled. “You spoke with her, then?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is she all right?” Seth didn’t immediately respond, just stared silently at the rippling lake. “Seth? Is Joy all right?” Everett repeated, taking a step toward the other man.

  “Is there somewhere we could sit and talk out of the sun?” Seth wondered aloud.

  Everett swallowed uneasily. Something about Seth’s manner was setting off a tiny alarm bell in the back of his head.

  “Yeah. Over here,” Everett directed.

  He led the other man beneath the shade of the sycamore—not to where Joy and he had made love, but to a thick fallen limb from a tree that was nearer to the lake. He nodded at the branch in an invitation for Seth to sit if he liked. Seth gave him a questioning glance, and Everett said, “I’ve been sitting all day, in between swims to cool off. You go ahead.”

  Seth sat, the tree branch squeaking but holding beneath the solid weight of his body.

  “You asked me if Joy is all right,” Seth began, his hands on his thighs. “I didn’t answer right away because I wasn’t certain how I should.”

  A prickle of wariness went down Everett’s neck. “What’s that mean?”

  Seth exhaled. His face was set in its typical impassive expression, but Everett sensed that he was torn about something.

  “Seth? Is Joy okay?” he asked sharply, taking a step toward him.

  “She says she’s fine.”

  “But you don’t believe her?”

  Another pause. Everett sensed he had to give Seth time to sort through whatever was bothering him, but he’d never experienced such a pressure to demand answers more.

  “Has Joy told you about how her mother died?” Seth asked suddenly.

  “Yes.”

  Seth regarded him with a dark-eyed stare. “She told you about how brutal Alice’s cancer was? How long it lingered? How her father left them when she was sixteen?”

  Everett nodded, his focus on the other man intent.

  “Did Joy tell you how she feels about her father?” Seth asked, once again staring out at the lake.

  “She told me that she doesn’t hold his leaving against him. She said she isn’t particularly close to him, but that she doesn’t hate him. I gather you feel differently about your brother?”

  “I think he’s a spineless degenerate for abandoning Joy and Alice like he did,” he said, the acid in his tone indicating the depth of his derision for Jake Hightower. He turned his stare once again onto Everett. “What do you think about Jake’s leaving like that?”

  “Joy insisted I shouldn’t judge him, not ever having been in a situation like that myself.” Everett gave a rueful shrug. “But personally, I’d say your brother sounds like a real louse. Who could leave their wife under those circumstances? Who could possibly leave their daughter to cope with it, when he couldn’t even do it?”

  He noticed Seth’s narrowed gaze on him. “What has this got to do with how Joy is doing right at this moment?” Everett demanded.

  “So you’ve never been close to anyone who had cancer?”

  “No. How is that relevant?” Everett asked, not confrontationally. He just wanted to know why it was meaningful to Joy, because he was starting to realize more and more that this part of Joy’s history was crucial.

  “How do you know that you wouldn’t want to avoid that situation, like my brother did, when you’ve never been in his shoes?”

  “That’s what Joy said,” he said, exasperated. Why couldn’t Seth just tell him whether Joy was all right or not?

  “Well? I’m still asking the question.”

  “If I loved someone, I would never, ever walk out on them while they were suffering. I wouldn’t even consider it. I wouldn’t even know how,” Everett stated heatedly. “Just because I’ve never been close to anyone who’s battled cancer doesn’t mean I’m incapable of compassion and loyalty.”

  “You have been close to someone.”

  Everett blinked. “What?” he asked, not sure he’d understood Seth.

  “Joy.”

  A whip-poor-will called in the distance. It was like a heavy, dark cloth was being draped over him slowly from head to toe. He blinked away the dark spots that appeared before his eyes.

  “Joy has cancer?” he asked hollowly.

  “She’s in remission. At least I hope she is.”

  Everett sat heavily on the thick branch, making it creak loudly with their combined weight. It held, however, which was good. He suddenly wasn’t certain his legs would have.

  “What does that mean, at least you hope she’s in remission?” he asked Seth hoarsely.

  “She’s been doing well since her treatment, which ended last winter. Chances are, she’s still doing well. But with this fever and the swol
len glands, the doctors want her to have a biopsy, just to make sure everything is all right.”

  “When will she have the biopsy done?” he asked tensely.

  “Tuesday morning, at Northwestern Memorial in Chicago.”

  Everett sprang up from the branch as a surge of adrenaline went through him.

  “Why didn’t she tell me?”

  Seth shook his head, and Everett paused in his pacing in the weeds.

  “She didn’t tell anyone about her cancer. None of her friends. If she and I weren’t so close and she could have avoided it, she probably wouldn’t have told me. After her chemotherapy and radiation were finished, she made plans to move to Chicago. I couldn’t talk her out of it,” Seth said, sounding desolate.

  Everett stared at the ground sightlessly. Seth was usually so controlled in how he expressed emotion. He typically gave the impression of being a very powerful man. Even though there had hardly been any inflection in his tone as he spoke just now, Everett sensed his profound desperation and helplessness when it came to Joy.

  “Why?” Everett asked. “Why is she withdrawing so much?”

  “At first, I thought it was just because she felt guilty for forcing me to watch her suffer. I assumed she felt wretched that I had to endure the whole thing with Alice, and then had to re-experience it over again, this time with her.”

  “That makes sense,” Everett said, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He began pacing again. “Not that I’m agreeing with her logic, but I can understand her emotional need to protect you. What sort of cancer was she diagnosed with?”

  “Lymphoma.”

  Everett grimaced and came to a halt in the weeds. “Isn’t that the type of cancer her mom had?”