Nicole’s eyes closed. She stopped talking, and her breathing leveled off from short, choppy breaths to long even ones. It had only been moments since she had been given the medication, but already, she was out cold.
Davis wondered if he heard her right. Did she say someone donated ten-million dollars to Angel House? If so, he was damned impressed, but not surprised. He knew Nicole could do anything she put her mind to. He stood and stretched. It was early evening, but it felt later. He ran a tired hand down his face. Now that his adrenaline was slowing down, Davis was exhausted and felt as if he’d run a marathon. Now would probably be an excellent time to make a couple of phone calls while Nicole was resting—one to his office and the other to his sister. He contacted his assistant first to let her know he wouldn’t be in for the rest of today and most likely the rest of the week. Davis called to update Jane about Nicole’s condition. She volunteered to take Rayna and DJ home with her. He could hear Rayna in the background asking a million questions. She was so smart to only be six. If he didn’t FaceTime her tonight, there would be no peace in that house, and he couldn’t do that to Jane. Until then, Davis reassured Rayna over the phone that her mom was a little banged up but would be home in a couple of days. That seemed to make her feel better.
“Daddy. I’ll take good care of DJ until you and Mommy can come home.” Not only was she the spitting image of her mother, but she also had her kind and nurturing heart. Rayna always wanted to take care of everyone.
“Thank you. He’s going to need you to be the helpful big sister that I know you are.”
On the other end of the line, Rayna bobbed her head up and down. “I will be. I love you to the moon.”
“I love you to the universe.” They added their own spin to Davis’s mother’s words.
After he was finished with his calls, he opened his laptop with the intent of going through a few e-mails and reviewing a report until he glanced up into his wife’s bruised face. Her words came back to haunt him. Work could wait. Davis turned the laptop off and closed it putting the damn thing back into its bag. Then he pulled two chairs together and moved them as close as he could get to Nicole’s bed before stretching out. If she was going to be here all night, so was he.
Davis knew when he spoke to her that she couldn’t hear him. Still, he meant every word. “I promised you a lifetime of happiness. I plan to keep that vow. I just need a little more time to sort out this mess, and I’ll make up for all the lost time. I love you, Nicole Chatham.” He placed her hand in his once more, leaned his head back on the uncomfortable chair, and fell asleep.
Chapter 7
Davis walked through the front door of his home, and it looked like a floral shop. He smiled knowing he had contributed quite nicely to the hoard of red roses that were placed throughout the house. As word spread about Nicole’s accident, friends and acquaintances made their contributions as well. Davis was just about to go find her when the doorbell rang. He doubled back to answer it, and when he pulled them open, a delivery man stood, carrying another bouquet of flowers. Davis was immediately put on guard. It was after 7 p.m. What company delivered flowers this late? Was he being paranoid?
The young man sat the arrangement down on the ground. “I have a delivery for Mrs. Nicole Chatham.”
Davis’s response was gruff. “From who?”
The driver looked down at his clipboard. “The paperwork says Rome.”
“Rome?” Davis racked his brain, but he couldn’t place the name as he spoke his thoughts aloud. “Mr. Rome? Who the hell is that?” He hadn’t been expecting an answer.
“Sir, I’m not sure, but I think Rome is his first name. There was not a last name listed on the order.”
“What floral company delivers after hours?”
“We’re not a floral company but a specialty delivery service. This delivery is time sensitive.”
One of Davis’s eyebrows lifted in question. “Really now? And why is that?”
The driver was anxious. “Mixed within the roses and orchids are Kadupul flowers. They are native to Sri Lanka. They were specifically chosen for this bouquet. The flowers are so rare they are considered priceless and have already begun to die. The lifespan is very short; they live only a few hours after they are picked. Getting paid for this job depends on me delivering them alive.”
Curiosity piqued, Davis wondered. Why would Rome send my wife flowers like that? It was a huge arrangement and designed to make a statement. It took up half the space of the double doors and easily stood as tall as to his knees. He didn’t try to hide the scowl that began to appear on his face. It deepened as he bent low to inspect the arrangement. After determining there was nothing dangerous inside of them—except maybe the flowers themselves—Davis stood. He nodded for the man to pass the clipboard over to sign and then reached into his wallet to tip him.
After Davis settled up with the driver, he picked up the monstrosity
