“I can see that.” The doctor nodded again. “Take Tylenol. Nothing aspirin-based for the time being. No Bayer or over the counter stuff like that. It contains aspirin. You need acetaminophen. Follow up with your physician within a week; if your symptoms worsen, come right back here.”
“Sure, Doc. Thanks.”
The doctor left, leaving Chrissy alone with Saks. He looked unhappy, which Chrissy could understand. The whole weekend had been rough on the man, and the haggard expression on his face told that tale.
“Where’s my car?”
“Still at my house.”
“Well, take me there and I’ll go home.”
“Saks, the doctor said you shouldn’t drive for a week.”
“No offense, Chrissy, but hanging with you isn’t good for my health.”
Chrissy’s heart sank, but could she blame him? He pegged things correctly. In less than forty-eight hours, he’d fought with Marcus twice, she’d slapped his face, kneed him in the groin, and dumped Eggs Benedict on him. She couldn’t blame him if he didn’t want to see her again. But she couldn’t let him drive in his condition.
“I’ll take you to your apartment,” she said. “And have your car towed there at my expense.” She stared down at her hands. “I’m sorry about all of this, Saks.”
A nurse came in with discharge papers, halting their conversation.
While Saks dressed, Chrissy drove her car to the emergency entrance where Saks waited. He walked out slowly, the sight of him causing her breath to hitch. Damn. Why did he have to be a Rocco? She jumped out of the car to help him in.
He looked ahead and Chrissy followed his gaze. The sun rose over the horizon against the cityscape of New Haven.
“Don’t you have to go to work?” he asked.
“I’ll call in.”
“You shouldn’t on my account. Just drop me off at my apartment; I’ll call someone to watch me.”
“Who?”
Saks looked away.
“Thought so,” she said. “Who you gonna call? Ghostbusters?”
“That’s an awful joke.”
“And you’re a terrible liar. Are you that eager to get rid of me?”
“Last I heard you’d go to Hell before marrying a Rocco.”
“Let’s just get you in the car and home. We’ll go from there.” Chrissy grimaced, and ached to touch him at the same time. Every moment she spent with Saks only reaffirmed the crazy connection she had with him. This was dreadful, and she knew it. She was falling for Saks despite every argument she called up against it. Women who love the wrong men for all the right reasons pave the road to Hell.
CHAPTER FIVE
Saks sat on Chrissy’s couch while she called work, leaving a voice mail. He was at her place instead of his because she’d insisted on calling for a tow and he had to be on site to hand off the car. Only then, she promised, she’d drive him home.
If Saks had any sense, he’d have called Luke and had his friend come pick him up.
“Richard, sorry. I caught a stomach bug and can’t come into work today. I’ll call you later, but I’ve got everything arranged with my assistant. Should you need anything, she’ll be able to help you. Thank you for understanding.”
Even when she lied through her teeth, she was classy. Then he heard her dial another number.
“Jess, sorry to call you so early. I’m taking a personal day. I’ll send you what buys to make. Get Richard to sign off on them. He should without a problem. If you have questions, email me.” Chrissy paused her end of the conversation. “Yes, I’m sick, Miss-Any-Gossip-I-Can-Get. Yes, I know I depend on you for that, but that’s other people’s secrets... No, I don’t have any secrets. I worded that badly. Yes, I should be in tomorrow. Thanks.”
She walked into the living room and leaned over on the couch next to him, looking out the window. While she looked, Saks’ eyes wandered to her backside that filled out her jeans like perfectly round melons. He always liked a full derrière on a woman, and Chrissy’