Chapter 9
Parker didn’t bother with a walk through the condo. There would be time for that later. At the moment, all he wanted to do was take a hot shower and crawl into bed. It would be the first time since he’d been working in the trauma unit that he would not have to worry about being awakened in the middle of the night by a phone call. The thought brought a smile to his face. He might sleep until noon, but then remembered he had to call Max and make arrangements for his truck to get towed off the mountain. That old guy, Nicholas Star, would be sure to say “I told you so” when he learned that the pickup truck hadn’t made it up the mountain as Parker had assured him it would.
After a hot shower, he dressed in sweats and a worn-out T-shirt, yet another from his college days. He let Leon out of his carrier, opened a can of smelly Chicken Delight, and filled a small cup with water. Leon had it made and didn’t even know it. Maybe Parker would come back as a cat in another life.
Right. If you believed in such garbage.
“Meow,” Leon offered after he’d finished his dinner.
“Yep, I’m tired, too,” Parker said absently.
The black and white ball of fluff pounced from the floor to the countertop. “Meow, meow!”
“Hey, I said I was tired. And I don’t think so,” he said as he scooped Leon from the countertop. “This should meet your needs.” Parker set Leon in the black leather recliner situated next to the fireplace. “Warm and comfy. What more could a guy ask for?”
Leon’s fluffy tail flapped slowly from side to side, letting Parker know he was being dismissed. Cats, he thought as he reached down to scratch his buddy between the ears. Can’t live with them, and he personally couldn’t imagine life without a feisty feline. Sort of like women. Couldn’t live with them, or without them. Though if he were honest, he’d lived just fine without one. And this brought to mind that gorgeous actress. She was sexy, easy on the eyes.
And he was not going to even think about her. Not now. Tomorrow he planned to shop for a new wardrobe in the Snow Zone, or at least something warmer than what he had on. He didn’t think the college T-shirts were going to cut it in the weather at Maximum Glide. He spent so much of his time in scrubs, he’d never given too much thought to what he wore beneath them. He’d have to at least consider making a few purchases out of necessity. Remembering that Mr. Star had said that someone with a funny name, Candy something or other, had taken care of this, he’d take a look at her selection before calling it a night.
He went in search of the ski supplies the girl had delivered. Leave it to Max. He knew him well even though it had been years since they’d seen one another. Max knew that his old friend wouldn’t have bothered replacing his skis or boots. When had there been time? he wondered, as he spied several items of heavy-duty clothing on the sofa. A red and black Spyder jacket, with matching ski pants and wool socks that promised to keep one’s feet warm in subzero temperatures. Boots that weighed as much as a small child were sure to support his ankles and keep his feet warm in the iciest conditions, too. And there were several fleece shirts and a pair of mountain boots. From the looks of it, Max’s employee hadn’t missed a bit. Three pairs of what he knew had to be top-of-the-line skis leaned against the wall. He chuckled, as he viewed the windfall. Christmas was going to be good this year. No more holidays spent caring for people who were either ill, injured, or incapacitated by their own hand—or their parents’, he couldn’t help but add, as he recalled the reason he’d needed to get away in the first place. He shook his head, thankful for Max’s generosity. The first full day there, he’d ski until he dropped and try to forget the real reason he was at Maximum Glide in the first place.
Satisfied that he’d be properly outfitted when he hit the slopes, he returned to the master suite, dropped his sweats and T-shirt on the floor, and crawled beneath the heavy comforter. Leon had situated himself on the pillow next to Parker’s the same way he did at the apartment. So much for the soft leather chair.
It had been forever since he’d slept in the nude, and he could not recall ever having slept on sheets as soft. The thread count must be up there in the thousands. Again, Max spared no expense when it came to his guests.
Guests. He couldn’t help but remember the woman who’d given him a lift up the mountain, a total stranger. Then he’d had the audacity to tell her he wasn’t out to make friends. Damn, it’d been too long since he’d been with a woman, in an intimate setting, or any setting, for that matter. If he ran into her, he would apologize, and if she didn’t tell him to go to hell, he might even ask her out for a drink. It would take his mind off that little girl who wasn’t going to be celebrating Christmas this year or any other, opening presents and screaming and shouting her delight.
With an even heavier heart, Parker slid farther beneath the plush bedding, willing himself to go to sleep and forget about events of the dreadful day.
Tossing and turning, Parker concluded sleep was not his friend that night. Normally, he could fall asleep instantly; given his profession, he had to catch a few winks when the opportunity arose. Now, there he was in that luxurious condo, nothing to keep him from doing whatever he wanted, and he could not force himself to fall asleep. Unwilling to lie in bed any longer, Parker found his sweats on the floor where he’d left them. He slipped them on and went to the kitchen in search of a late night, or in this case, an early morning snack.
Upon hearing his feet hit the floor, Leon stretched, arching his back into a V, then had the audacity to crawl into the warm spot Parker had just vacated.
Laughing as he found the kitchen, Parker realized Max had outdone himself yet again. The kitchen was all black and chrome; a man’s kitchen, Parker thought. He found a giant refrigerator filled with so much food, he had a hard time choosing.
Between fresh meats, fruit, and a variety of cheeses, he finally settled on slicing a Granny Smith apple and a few wedges of sharp cheddar. Some gourmet he was. He poured himself a large glass of milk and took everything to the living room, where he found a giant-sized television mounted on the wall. It had to be at least sixty inches if his estimate were correct. He found a remote on the table by a long, sleek, black leather couch. While the leather was a nice touch, it wasn’t him, he thought, as he sat down with his plate of food and his milk. As he munched, he surfed through hundreds of channels yet saw nothing that would grab his attention.
Without knowing or understanding why, his thoughts returned to the woman who’d driven him up the mountain to the condo. Hadn’t old Nick Star, as he was now going to refer to him, said she was an actress from New York City? What in the world is she doing out West? Or is she simply taking a vacation, like me? And alone, too.
It surprised him that someone with her good looks would be alone. Maybe she isn’t, he thought. Maybe she has a lover, boyfriend, beau, however they referred to them now, coming to meet her tomorrow. She had said she’d be on the slopes, but she really hadn’t indicated if she would be skiing solo. And, of course, he’d had to put his foot in his big-ass mouth and let her know he would not welcome any new friendships. On or off the slopes. Period. So, just like everything else in his life, he’d screwed that up before he’d even had a chance to start anything.
Normally, Parker was not one to wallow in self-pity. As a doctor, he knew you couldn’t allow your emotions to get the best of you, knew that there was a risk with all patients, even those with nothing more than a runny nose. It is what it is, he’d told himself. But in all his years as a trauma surgeon, he had never lost a child. This event had marred his vision of himself as a professional.
Then he reminded himself, before that day, he’d never had a child die on his table.
Never.