Chris was surprised, and when they reached the living room, he stopped and put a finger to his lips. Lucy left him alone to watch as Sahara played all the way through to the end. The moment she dropped her head and put her hands in her lap, he began to clap.
Sahara looked up. “Dr. Barrett!” she said, startled. “I didn’t realize you were here.” She stood and motioned toward the sofa. “Should we sit?”
“Sure,” he said, then waited until she crossed the room and plopped down on the sofa.
She smelled like the tropics, and Chris thought about what it would be like to come home to a woman like this every day.
“How has your foot been feeling? Any problems?” he asked, as he began removing the bandage.
“It hurt a lot the first night, but not so much now. We’re going to resume filming soon. I’m hoping it’s not going to present a problem.”
“Let me get the rest of this off so we can see what we have going here,” he said, and as soon as he had the bandage off, he gloved up and began examining the injury. “It looks better than I would have expected,” Chris said. “Healing quickly.”
“Family trait,” she said, and leaned forward for a better look. “The blister broke. That skin is coming off. What’s going to happen there?”
“We would expect the skin beneath to already be in a stage of regrowth, and it appears that it is. I’m going to remove a bit more of this dead skin, and then we’ll redress it and bandage it back up. Don’t wear any kind of shoe that rubs against the burn area.”
“How much longer before you would call it healed?”
“It’s hard to say.”
He heard her sigh. It obviously wasn’t the answer she wanted. He glanced up, fully intending to keep talking, but she was so stunning—even without a hint of makeup—that it caught him off guard.
Sahara frowned, then leaned forward and snapped her fingers in front of his face.
“Paging Dr. Barrett!”
He jumped. Well, damn it.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, embarrassed. “But, uh, I have an excuse. I left my sunglasses in the car and...was blinded by your beauty?”
Sahara threw her head back and laughed.
“Oh Lord. Where did you hear that one?”
“My pool boy...on the phone yesterday...trying to talk his girlfriend out of being mad at him.”
Sahara laughed again. A doctor with a sense of humor. That was a nice change of pace.
“Did it work on her?” she asked.
Chris grinned. “Nope.”
“And yet you thought you could pull it off?” she said.
“I thought since I had age and this pretty face going for me, it might work.”
Sahara shook her head. “Nope. It’s a no go from me, too.”
“Well, it never hurts to try,” he said with a smile, and began packing up his bag. “As usual, I’m on the way to somewhere else. Take care, Miss Travis. I’ll check back in on you in another couple of days.”
“When can I get it wet?” she asked.
“When the skin isn’t so new and tender. Probably still a few days.”
She sighed again. “Not ideal, but thank you.”
Lucy appeared in the doorway as if by magic, just in time to see him out. She met Sahara on her way into the kitchen.
“Your timing is impeccable,” Sahara said.
Lucy shrugged. “I was eavesdropping in the hall.”
“At least you’re honest about it,” Sahara said with a grin.
“I didn’t sense a connection in the making. Was I wrong?” Lucy asked.
“No, you weren’t wrong at all,” Sahara said. “Do we have any shrimp left?”
“Yes. How does a shrimp cocktail sound?”
“Sounds delightful. And some iced tea. I don’t care what kind.”
Lucy nodded and began assembling plates and pulling food from the refrigerator.
“So, what did the doctor say about your foot?”
Sahara looked up and grinned. “You didn’t already overhear that, too?”
Lucy giggled. “No. Seriously, are you healing okay?”
“Yes, it’s just going to take time for the new skin to toughen up, but it will happen soon enough.”
“Okay, then,” Lucy said, and dug out the deli-made red sauce that Sahara liked and began assembling the tasty appetizers.
“Double up on that shrimp, please,” Sahara said. “This is lunch...not an appetizer.”
Lucy smiled and squeezed some more shrimp into place around the rim of the dish. She was digging in the pantry for poppy seed crackers when the house phone rang.
“I’ll get it,” Sahara said, and slid off the bar stool to pick up. “This is Sahara,” she said.
“Afternoon, Miss Travis. This is Adam. I have an envelope here for you from the studio.”
“Is the messenger still there?”
“No, ma’am.”
“I’m getting a little stir-crazy. How about I ride down to meet you at the elevator. You won’t have to leave your post, and I’ll pretend I just went on some lavish shopping spree.”
Adam laughed. “Yes, ma’am. That would be great. I’ll be there when the doors open.”
“On my way,” Sahara said.
“Pages already?” Lucy said.
“I think so. Tom certainly didn’t waste any time. I’ll be right back and I’ll let myself in.”
“Okay,” Lucy said, and continued assembling lunch as Sahara grabbed her keys and left the penthouse.
Just getting out into the hall between her apartment and the elevator felt like she was escaping. It angered her that she’d let some faceless coward run her to ground, hiding like a criminal. She punched in the code on the keypad. The doors opened. She walked in and rode down. Adam was waiting with the envelope as promised.
“Thank you, kind sir,” she said.
“My pleasure, Miss Travis. How’s your foot?”
“Slowly healing, and thank you again for being my knight in shining armor and getting a doctor to make a house call.”
He beamed. “Yes, ma’am. My pleasure. Have a nice day.”
“You, too,” Sahara said, and rode back up and let herself in.
She laid her keys on the table by the door and headed for the kitchen, opening the envelope as she went. Sure enough, it contained pages of the script with all of the dialogue and costume changes marked.
“We’re back in business, I guess,” Sahara said, as she laid the pages near her place setting and slid back onto the bar stool.
She scanned the memo on top and then leaned back with a sigh.
“It’s an early call tomorrow, and they’re sending a car for me, so you can just meet me on set.”
Lucy carried the food to the island.
“Sure thing,” she said. “I’ll stop by that