Hollywood House Call

“No.”

Their phone was probably still shut off, but she would send her brother a text in a few days. Even though he was away at college, he usually went home on weekends if he was able to get off work from his part-time job.

On the other hand, she might not text him at all. Why would she want them to know she’d failed? She’d been so, so close and had lost it all. She refused to text her sister, whom she rarely talked to, anyway. The woman was too busy with her perfect family in Texas to be bothered with helping.

She tried to swipe at the moisture in her eyes, reaching up with her right arm.

“Ouch. God,” she groaned.

“Take it easy.” Noah reached over and patted her leg. “I know it’s habit to use your right arm, but try to hold it still. The more you rest it, the sooner it will heal.”

“I don’t care about my arm,” she told him. “That’s the least of my concerns.”

He drove for a moment before breaking the silence again. “This will get better, Callie. I know you don’t see that proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, but it’s there. We need to give this some time.”

“We?” she mocked. “I’m positive your career will go on, Noah. You have everything you could ever want.”

His hands tightened around the steering wheel. “We all have our own hell, Callie. I’ve just learned to live with mine.”

Callie doubted very much his hell was life-changing. He probably had to pay more property taxes or didn’t get invited to some of his clients’ glamorous parties. No matter what the so-called darkness in his life was, Callie knew it couldn’t compare to having her dreams slide through her fingers like sand. She’d held that reality for such a short time and now she would have nothing to show for it.

“I don’t mean to argue with you,” he told her softly. “I’m here to help you and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“I still don’t think staying with you is the answer,” she told him.

“If you have a better suggestion, I’m all ears.”

She sighed and ignored the twinge of pain in her shoulder at the deep breath. “I hate being someone’s responsibility and an inconvenience.”

“Callie, you’re neither of those things. If I didn’t want to help, I wouldn’t have volunteered. Besides, you need assistance and I’m a doctor. You’re getting the best free of charge.”

She never dreamed if she ever got an invitation to Noah’s Beverly Hills home it would be for him to play doctor in the literal sense. There would be no way he’d ever want to date her now. What man would find a woman with a slash down her face attractive? She hadn’t even talked to Noah about surgery, but she highly doubted she’d ever look the same again.

She’d worked in his office long enough to know that scars could never be fully removed—minimized, yes, but it would still be there. Even with microdermabrasion or, God forbid, a skin graft, there would still be a slight imperfection on her face. And Noah Foster was used to perfection—that was his job, for crying out loud.

She rested her head against the back of the seat and let the silence of the car surround her. She didn’t feel like chitchatting, didn’t feel like thinking positively as he’d suggested. Surely she was entitled to a pity party, right? Entitled or not, she was throwing one for herself. Hopefully, when they arrived at his house, he’d leave her alone to wallow in her misery.

A short while later he pulled into a gated drive, rolled down his window and punched in a sequence of numbers until the wrought-iron gate slid to the side, allowing them through. A large, two-story, beige stucco home, with white trim and white columns surrounding the arched entryway, took center stage in the circular drive. Noah hit the garage-door opener and eased the car inside.

“I’ll come around and help you out.”

Since Callie didn’t have the energy or the will to fight, she allowed Noah to escort her into the house. Normally she would’ve taken the time to marvel at the spacious, pristine kitchen, but she just wanted to go to her room…wherever it was located.

“You’ll be upstairs with me.” He led the way as he rolled her small suitcase behind him. “I meant, beside me.”

Fantastic. Now she was not only in his house out of pity and obligation, she was going to have to sleep with one wall separating them. As if any lingerie would override her mummified state. Sheer material was sexy…sheer gauze, not so much.

“I can show you where your room will be, then you can do what you want.” He moved up the wide, curved staircase that circled around a low-hanging chandelier. “I can fix lunch while you unpack, if you’d like.”

Once at the top of the steps, she stopped. “Noah,” she said, waiting until he turned. “You don’t have to do this. Other than changing my bandages and helping me with basics because of my collarbone, pretend I’m not here. You don’t have to feed me or entertain me.”

He left the suitcase and stepped toward her. Placing his hand on her good shoulder, he looked into her eyes. There was that mesmerizing gaze that had made her toes curl, her belly tingle, so many times. And now was no different. But in so many ways, the important ways, this instance was nothing like the others.

The last time he’d touched her and looked into her eyes. he’d kissed her with so much passion, so much desire….

“Pretending you’re not here would be impossible,” he told her, holding her gaze. “I know you aren’t comfortable, but it’s me, Callie. We’ve worked together long enough, and went quite a big step beyond friendship in my car the other day, that I’d hoped you would be comfortable here. This doesn’t have to be difficult. Let me care for you. Please.”

She couldn’t keep looking at him. She almost felt like a kid, like if she looked away, maybe he couldn’t see her. Her eyes darted to the V in the neck of his black T-shirt.