“I could blame the drugs—damn pills make me dopey as hell. Truth is I’ve been feeling sorry for myself and I took it out on you. Your offer touched a nerve and I reacted badly.”
His honesty took her aback. “Next time I’ll remember not to be helpful.”
“I hope this is the last time I’ll be in this situation. Anyway, I said some things I didn’t mean and I’m really sorry.”
From his stilted delivery and his clear discomfort, Tracy believed his regret was sincere. Still, she got the feeling there was more to his call than an apology. “Okay.”
“Am I forgiven?”
“Your apology is accepted,” she said politely.
“Good. Great. Thanks. So, are you going to the game tonight?” he asked.
“I’d hoped to, but I have too much work.” She hadn’t meant her answer to be a test, but she was interested to hear his response.
“That’s a shame. Should be a good tilt.” He didn’t sound chastising or snide. Full marks for effort.
She continued cautiously. “I wouldn’t normally miss a game against the Rangers, but I have a lot to do before Mme. Chabal arrives this weekend. She wants everything I proposed and the Bridgers have agreed to fund it all.”
“Congratulations. That’ll be a nice boost for Helping Hands.”
Ike was batting a thousand. Not only had he remembered the name of her new service, he actually sounded pleased for her. Yet she couldn’t help waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Thanks. The team are considering extending this service to other players, so I’m pleased. Hopefully, from there, we can expand to our other clients. Even so, I’ll be sorry to miss the game. I take it you’ll be watching on TV?”
“Probably not. It’s hard enough when you’re sitting on the bench as backup. At least then there’s the chance of being called on to help out if things go south. It’s hell knowing that if the Cats are losing I can’t do anything about it. I hate feeling useless.”
“I can understand that.”
“The flipside is it’ll be a long evening, stuck here in this bed. Watching the game will help the time pass more quickly.”
Tracy felt sorry for him. He sounded miserable. “You’re still not allowed up?”
“Nope. Maybe tomorrow. I just have to get through tonight.” He paused, then said, “If you get your work done early, it would be good to have some company.”
That was the last thing she’d expected from him. His deliberately casual request, with just a hint of hopefulness, made her heart clench. She wanted to say she’d be there, but something made her cautious. “I don’t know. I’ll see how it goes.”
“For sure. No problem either way.”
His tone was so like her mum’s—the pathetic one that said it did matter—yet Tracy didn’t feel the irritation she should have. Ike wasn’t into manipulative guilt trips. He had no problem calling a spade a bloody shovel. He was trying to be polite.
Which made her feel even sorrier for him. For someone who needed to be in control, his situation must be terrible. What harm could there be in a short visit?
“Actually, I have to pick up some documents from a client near the hospital later. I could stop by to see you after that.” It wasn’t strictly true—she didn’t have to pick them up tonight—but he didn’t need to know that. She didn’t want him to think she was rushing in to see him just because he’d asked. Even if that was exactly what she was doing.
“Great. I’ll look forward to it.”
Tracy sat staring at the phone for a few moments once she’d hung up.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that Ike had a hidden agenda, but she couldn’t figure out what it would be. Perhaps when they were face-to-face it would be easier to see. Until then, she’d give him the benefit of the doubt. She didn’t acknowledge the hope sparking within her that Ike’s apology and desire to see her were just what they seemed.
For the next hour, Tracy worked solidly to finish the comprehensive information package she’d been compiling for Lise Chabal. Tracy was proud of how well it had turned out.
Tracy would’ve loved to have had something similar when she’d first arrived in the States. Even though she spoke the language, unlike Lise, everything had been so different and Tracy had floundered. With the benefit of hindsight, she knew that was when her reliance on Hank had started. His guidance had smoothed the way for her and it had been easy to slip into the habit of doing whatever he said.
There was a certain smug satisfaction in knowing that Hank’s lump-sum divorce settlement had helped her start Making Your Move. And in knowing that she’d proved him—and her father—wrong when they’d said she couldn’t make it work. She’d not only survived, but if Helping Hands was the success she thought it could be, she’d be sitting pretty at the top of that market.
On that cheery note, she should get to the hospital. Tracy switched off her computer and grabbed her coat and purse.
When she got to Ike’s floor, Tracy nipped into the visitors’ bathroom to put on some lipstick. Just to tidy up. She pulled a face at the mirror. Who was she kidding?
As she signed in on the ward, the nurse in charge greeted her cheerfully. “Watch out. Ike’s in a grumpy mood. Something about his team already losing.”
“Not just losing, but down 2–0 after only five minutes.” Tracy smiled. “Sorry, you probably don’t care about the details.”
“Not really.” The nurse grinned. “But when it affects your patient, you have to be ‘interested’ in all kinds of things. Hockey’s better than fly-fishing or ultimate cage fighting.”
“That’s true.” Tracy laughed. “Hopefully a visitor will cheer him up. Though even that won’t work if the Cats get blown out.”
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for a turnaround, then.”
Tracy had just reached Ike’s room when she heard him roar.
“I don’t need a freaking straw in my drink and I don’t want you to cut up my food.”
A young blonde volunteer in a striped uniform rushed past Tracy, her face flushed. “Perhaps you’ll have better luck with him.”
Tracy smiled sympathetically, then strode into the room. “Someone’s in a foul mood.”
“You’d be miserable, too, if you weren’t even allowed to use a freaking knife and fork,” he growled, crossing his arms awkwardly over his broad chest. The bandages that covered his arm from fingers to shoulder hampered his movement.
The flowery pastel-blue gown should have looked silly on such an obviously masculine body. Instead, it emphasized his honed chest and arms, making him look more manly, rather than less. But Ike didn’t need to know that.
Nor that he’d made her pulse skip. “Good job I’m here to give the staff a break from your charming personality.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Do not push me.”
“Seriously?” Tracy rolled her eyes. “That might work on a sweet young thing like that candy striper, but I’m immune.”
Ike’s green eyes turned fiery, challenging her to take him on.
She tamped down her body’s instant heated response. Besides, she shouldn’t tease a wounded man. Especially one whose pride probably hurt as much as his arm.
“How are you feeling?” she asked brightly as she sat in the chair beside his bed. “Are you at least being sensible about taking painkillers?”
“I’ve