Bombshell

“Hello, is this Merrick Flynn?” said a sultry voice.

“Doctor Garcia?”

“What’s so important that you’d bribe me to come to Atlantic City, and how much are we talking about? Because I do have some free time, and I adore gambling.”

“Then you’re in luck, doctor,” Merrick said, “because I own a casino. How about your usual hourly rate—plus I’ll put you up in a suite and give you two thousand dollars in play money?”

“How about you put me up in a penthouse and make it ten thousand?”

“Done,” Merrick said. Never before had he appreciated the power of his wealth. “Great, then I’ll send a helicopter for you first thing in the morning?”

“I don’t do helicopters, but you can make travel arrangements with my assistant. Is this a cell? I’ll text you her number.”

Merrick got her assistant’s name. He’d put Linda on this. She was good with booking flights, and she could set up the free play and the suite as well.

“Thank you so much—you don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

“Merrick, are you coming—your food’s getting cold.”

“Just a minute, Ma,” Merrick yelled over his shoulder, as he covered the phone with his hand. He took a breath and spoke in a normal voice. “Thank you again, Doctor…”

“Before you go running to Mommy, can you tell me a little about my patient?”

Merrick laughed. “Uh, yes, sure, Doctor—high level. She’s twenty-something, severe amnesia. Twice she’s freaked out like she’s under attack or really afraid. They just took a small piece of glass out of her head after an MRI gone bad—and she thinks I’m her fiancé, but the truth is, I don’t even know her real name or anything about her—I’ve only known her a few days.”

Merrick couldn’t believe he was being that honest with the woman. What if she told the other doctor, and the insurance card was questioned? Then again, what did he care? He didn’t need insurance to pay for this. He had all the money in the world—he’d just been reluctant to spend it, until. “Deep pockets, short arms,” is what Tony always said about him. But, not anymore. For Bombshell and her health and wellbeing, money was no object.

“Hello?”

“I’m sorry,” Merrick said. He’d forgotten he was on the phone. “Was there anything else you needed?”

“Yes, one more thing.”

“Name it.”

“Be sure to invite me to the wedding.”

Merrick hung up and shook his head. Hadn’t he told her that the engagement was fake? What was she implying?

Over turkey lasagna, fresh bread and a tossed salad, Merrick told Mama G everything. Well, almost everything – he’d left out the erotic bits.

Mama G was very understanding.

“So, you say you’re not really engaged—but that’s just a formality, isn’t it? You do love her, don’t you?”

Merrick blinked. Did he love her? Is that what that strange shrink had been implying? Was how he felt about Bombshell obvious to everyone in the world but himself?

True, ever since he’d seen her on that stage, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, worrying about her, fantasizing about her. But was it love, or just an attraction and some hero/victim shit?

He wasn’t about to admit anything just yet—not until he understood it himself.

Chapter Twenty One

The next morning, Merrick went back to the hospital and sat in the waiting room. Bombshell was expected to come out of her induced coma at any point, and he wanted to be there in case she asked for him. The psych doctor had texted that she’d be coming straight to the hospital after landing at the airport, and Merrick made sure Linda sent a limo. He did a little work while he sat around in the waiting room of the hospital.

It was getting close to noon when he got a call from a number he didn’t recognize.

“Merrick Flynn?” said a serious female voice.