Page 100 of Stolen Hearts
“No problem,” Freddy says, turning back to the piano to lay down the new chords as I get up.
By the time I’ve showered, dried myself off, and changed my clothes, it’s almost 7:40. I grab a few items of clothing from my walk-in closet and head out of my bedroom toward the front door. It shouldn’t take me more than fifteen minutes to get to Cedars-Sinai from here, but I don’t want to take any chances.
“Valentina!” I shout.
“Yes?” Her head of black hair pops up from behind the kitchen counter before the rest of her emerges.
“I have a friend coming over to stay tonight, maybe for a few days. Could you prepare one of the guest rooms and grab some towels for them? And could you also leave these on the bench at the bottom of the bed alongside the towels?”
“Of course,” she says, coming round to take the clothes off me. “Will you be wanting dinner for allof you?”
All of us?
Oh, she must mean Freddy too.
“I’m not sure yet. Freddy will be leaving shortly, but I’ll let you know on the way back,” I say, heading back to the front door.
I probably should let Freddy know to let himself out before I go.
I run to the studio and stick my head round the corner of the door.
“You okay to see yourself out once you’ve got those chords down?”
“Yeah, sure,” he says, “Want me to bounce both tracks out and send what we’ve got so far over to you and management?”
“Just me for now, please,” I say, pulling my head out and closing the door.
That conversation can wait for another day.
22.Christopher
Tuesday
“Are you sure you want to head in?” Alexander’s hand pulls gently at my shoulder as the key turns in the door of my apartment.
The sound of the lock amplifies the nausea and dread in my stomach.
I pause and turn back briefly to look at him. His eyes aren’t visible underneath the rim of his baseball cap. “I need to get my things. I can’t have your housekeeper do that for me.”
I enter my apartment and instantly notice the mark on the wall caused by the stretcher when the paramedics brought Andrew up from his room.
Alexander gently closes the door and follows behind me as I make my way into the lounge. I try to steady my mind, to think of what I need.
Laptop.
Change of clothes.
Toiletries.
“Could you head down and see if the door on the right is closed?”
The mere thought of seeing the room sends a shudder through my body.
The image of Andrew lying motionless on his bed is burnt into my brain and has played on repeat for the last forty-eight hours. The ventilator machine and heart rate monitor are the only two sounds breaking the silence in his private room.
“It’s shut!” Alexander shouts from the bottom of the stairs.
My heart rate rises with every successive step downstairs. Alexander patiently waits in the bathroom doorway. This is not how I envisioned him seeing my apartment for the first time.
