She moved in front of him. “Tell me one thing. Do you think I’m responsible for what’s going on here? Do you think I’m the person who sold the story to the press?”
Then he did it. The one thing she’d never thought he’d do.
He hesitated.
It was fleeting. A split second. A millisecond even.
But she saw it in his eyes. The flicker of uncertainty. The possibility that he’d considered it.
And it was all she needed.
She turned on her heel and walked along the corridor.
It only took a few seconds to pick up her bag and run down the stairs toward the security office.
“Ramon? Could you help me, please? I need a ride—urgently.” The tears were pooling in her eyes and she prayed they wouldn’t start running down her cheeks.
Ramon looked up, and the gentle giant didn’t hesitate. He lifted a set of keys. “I can organize that for you. Someone will take you wherever you need to go.”
He put his arm around her waist, ushered her down the corridor, and outside. She grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled a quick note while he murmured in his radio to one of his colleagues, then opened the passenger door of a sleek, black car that pulled up silently. She pushed the note into Ramon’s hand. “Can you give this to Lucille, please?”
He nodded and she climbed inside, trying to keep control of her breathing. Her heart was thudding against her chest.
One of the other guards was sitting in the driver’s seat. “Where to?”
“Malibu.”
“No problem.” The engine purred to life, and they drove out of the parking lot.
Selena didn’t look back.
She’d thought LA was the city of dreams. The place where she would find a home. And for a very short while she’d thought Colt might be part of those dreams. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Dreams were made to be broken and sunshine wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
…
Colt couldn’t believe what had just happened. His head was spinning as he tried to make sense of it all. Part of him wanted to chase Selena down the corridor and find out exactly what had happened. He didn’t know whether to yell at her or hug her.
But something was making his feet stick to the floor.
And that something was the frail woman sitting in front of him.
No one ever knew how indebted he felt toward Helen Ridgeway and her husband Roger.
He’d met them when he’d been a teenager with burns that required extensive plastic surgery. Roger Ridgeway had been immensely patient with him and respected his decision not to opt for surgery. Instead, he’d spent several months on the ward fighting infection and letting his skin heal naturally.
It had also sparked his interest in being a doctor. He’d lost serious school time while in hospital and after a few quiet words from her husband, Helen had come into the ward every day and helped him with his studies.
Many years later when he’d specialized in plastics, then realized he didn’t have the different skills required for burns surgery, Roger and Helen had supported him again, giving him the time and space to realize where his true talents did lie.
He felt immensely indebted to them both. Now, for the first time since Helen had lost her husband, he realized how frail she was.
She’d lost her polish. She’d lost her shine.
And she needed him.
He pulled a chair over and sat down next to her, trying not to let himself worry about what Selena’s next move might be.
He’d blown it. He’d blown it big-time. Inside he was cringing at his lack of support for her. He had to face facts, the situation at Seacliffe had existed before Selena, and it would still exist without her. His lack of faith in her was despicable.
Helen’s face was tight. She was barely blinking. He watched her bite her lip and push the manila folder toward him. “I haven’t opened this yet. Because I’m scared what she says might possibly be true.”
Colt opened it. Selena had red-penned and highlighted several sections in the accounts, with little foot notes next to each with queries or possible explanations of what they could be. It was a meticulous piece of work and must have taken her hours.
And it wasn’t just the time factor that struck him. It was how carefully everything was done. Every word thought through so as not to cause offense.
In one section she’d offered seven possible explanations what the transfer of money could have been used for. Seven reasonable, rational explanations as to why sums of money were disappearing from their business accounts.
But Colt’s heart was sinking. Because he was sure none of them were true.
“We need a specialist to look at these. Selena was right.”
Helen gave the briefest of nods.
Colt took a deep breath. “You weren’t entirely fair to her. I wasn’t entirely fair to her, either. Do you want to tell me what happened here? Because I’ve got a feeling I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life.”
Helen’s eyes were on the desk. She looked tired. She looked very tired. And Colt realized how hard she’d been working to try and keep things together.
This was the first time he’d ever heard her admit anything was wrong.
Maybe it was time to talk to the other partners? They were all so used to Helen taking care of the day-to-day running of things, while they dealt with the practical elements, the surgeries, the patients.
Colt felt a surge of guilt as he realized he’d never really sat down and examined the accounts before. He’d never really questioned any of the decisions Helen made. He’d been happy to do his job and play his role at Helen’s House.
Maybe it was time to do something more.
He reached over and took her hand. “What can I do to help?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure.”
Colt took a deep breath. “Has Alexander Hardy advised we reinstate Lara?”
Helen nodded. “We have to. We have to follow the proper procedures before we fire her for good.”
“What are we going to do with her?”
Helen shook her head. “Let her give out towels in the spa?”
“It’s about all I’d trust her to do.” Colt stood up. “We need to rethink. You know Lara would never have picked up on something being wrong with the accounts, don’t you?”
Helen gave the smallest nod of her head.
“I think it’s time we got you some help. We need a business manager. One who can do the day-to-day financial running of the clinic and spa to keep a closer eye on things.” He placed his hand on Helen’s shoulder. “Take the pressure off. Let you concentrate your time and energy on Helen’s House.”
Helen didn’t say anything; she took deep breaths. He knelt down in front of her. “Roger would have hated to see you like this. He would have wanted you to enjoy what you do. Not get tied up in the administration work. Think about it, please.”
He stood back up. He knew Helen well enough to know he had to give her some time to think about what he’d suggested. She would need some time and space to get her head around his suggestions. She’d always been in charge around here. It would be a huge wrench to give up some of that power.
And she had to make that decision for herself.
If he left her long enough, she’d think it was her idea. That would work out better for everyone.
He stopped and looked out of the window over the Pacific. Today it looked more green than blue. Just like Selena’s eyes.
He breathed deeply. He had to find her. He had to talk to her—to explain. Apologize. The thought of never seeing her again made his heart ache.
He loved her. He loved all of her. From the messy belongings tossed around his apartment, to her scowl when he woke her first thing in the morning.
He reached for the door.
“What are you going to do?”
He turned to face her again. There was no point in telling lies. There was no point in hiding his in
tentions. “I’m going to find Selena. I’m going to see if I can put things right with the woman I love.”
There. He’d said it.
And it wasn’t as hard as he’d thought.
He gave Helen a nod and left the room.
He had to put things right.
Chapter Twelve
Selena turned the key and rushed into the house. Jon, the security guard, had agreed to wait outside for her for a few minutes, so she had to be quick. She ran up the stairs to the bedroom and grabbed hold of her bag opening drawers and stuffing as much as she could inside. The bathroom was littered with her toiletries, so she swept her hand across the vanity, dragging them all into a waiting plastic bag. Her shoes were stuffed into another large bag.
That only left the clothes she had hanging in the closet. They looked beautiful. Orderly, color coordinated, and all pressed and neatly hung. Her stomach scrunched. They look like they belonged there.