my mother is fine,” Sonya said smoothly, a polite smile pasted on.
“A source close to the situation says your mother is in Intensive Care, that she’s had a heart attack.”
John-Michael was about to jump in and rescue his charge, but she handled the situation just fine.
“She’s undergoing tests,” Sonya said firmly. “I have no further comments.”
The reporter, seeing John-Michael, looked at him hopefully, but he wouldn’t make eye contact, and the firm set of his mouth apparently dissuaded the perky redhead from asking any further questions.
“You shouldn’t go charging ahead of me like that,” John-Michael said when they were out of the reporter’s earshot.
“You’ve been reading your own press,” Sonya said, sounding annoyed. “She was a five-foot-two bubble-head who probably doesn’t weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet. I wasn’t in any danger.”
“She could have been someone more dangerous.”
“McPhee, in all the years you’ve been guarding me, has anyone ever threatened me?”
“No,” he admitted.
“The danger is all in my mother’s head. And you’ve bought into it. Get over yourself.” She switched off her cell phone as they entered the building, reminding him to do the same.
They discovered that Muffy was no longer in the Intensive Care Unit. She’d been moved to a regular room. When they finally located her, she was sitting up in bed, her eyes open, the TV on, though John-Michael didn’t think she was actually watching the show. She wasn’t exactly a Jerry Springer fan. Though she was still hooked up to an IV and oxygen, she looked about 500 percent less scary than yesterday.
“Mother?”
Muffy looked over and managed a faint smile. “Sonya. And John-Michael, how nice.”
He walked up to the bed and squeezed her hand. “Mrs. Patterson. You must be feeling better. You look great.”
“Liar. I must…look like…day-old…paté de foie gras.” Her speech was labored, and it pained John-Michael to see her laid so low. But at least she was awake, and seemingly alert.
“Mother, don’t try to talk,” Sonya said.
“I want…to talk. I have to thank…John-Michael. I should have said something…long ago.”
“Thank him for what?”
“For making me go…to the hospital. I thought it was…indigestion. And for finding my girl…and bringing her home.”
Sonya flicked a curious glance toward John-Michael. “You did that? Brought her to the E.R.? How come no one told me?”
“It was a group effort,” John-Michael said modestly.
“Well, thank you,” Sonya said. “You probably saved her life.”
He shrugged. He didn’t consider himself a hero. He’d done what anyone would do. Anyway, having Sonya’s gratitude felt alien. He was much more comfortable when she was mad at him.
Sonya returned her attention to her mother, brushing her hand lightly against Muffy’s cheek. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you got sick.” She’d already apologized several times, but she felt compelled to repeat herself.
“I know, pumpkin. Is Marvin here?”
“He’s still in China. I can’t get hold of him.” She said this quickly, as if she’d rehearsed the answer over and over. And her eyes flickered up and to the right. John-Michael had studied neuro-linguistic programming as part of his criminology curriculum. Sonya was lying, or at least not telling the whole truth about Marvin’s whereabouts. John-Michael wished he could get to the bottom of this mystery, but he didn’t want to press Sonya when she was still so worried about her mother.
“How are the wedding plans coming?” Muffy said to Sonya.
“I’ve put the wedding on hold,” Sonya said firmly. “We’re not going to focus on anything for a while except getting you well.”
“You can’t postpone it,” Muffy said, her voice suddenly stronger. “We’ll lose our date at the country club!”
“Mother, don’t worry about it. I promise it will be fine. We’ll work it out. I want you to focus on getting better.”
“It’s not for two months,” Muffy persisted. “I’ll be fine by then.”
“We’ll see,” Sonya said.
It amused John-Michael to see Sonya playing the patient parent figure, Muffy the petulant child. He and his father had experienced that reversal many years ago, but he’d never expected to see it between these two. In his mind, Sonya was the eternal child, the spoiled princess, and Muffy the overindulgent but firm mama.
Sonya had seemed different, though, since her trip. More mature, more serious, more assertive. Unfortunately for his mental well-being, more attractive, too. He would have to adjust his thinking.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” he said, moving toward the door.
“Oh, John-Mikey,” Muffy said, using his childhood nickname. Muffy was the only person who could get away with that. Not even Jock tried it. “Could you bring me something to eat? Maybe a nice blueberry muffin?” She batted her eyelashes. “The breakfast they served me was pitiful.”
“Don’t you dare,” Sonya said. “She’s not getting one bite of anything the doctor didn’t prescribe. But I understand if you’d like to get something for yourself,” she added. “I did get you up rather early this morning and didn’t even offer you breakfast.”
“I think I will get something,” he said gruffly. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.” John-Michael slipped out the door, needing some space and distance from Sonya. He wasn’t sure he liked her being polite to him, nice, even. Such behavior upset the world order. It was much better that he treat her like a contemptible snail.
She’d started to be a little bit nice last night, too, sharing her macaroni and cheese. And he’d felt that familiar pull. She’d looked so approachable, all rumpled in her night clothes, her silky robe and nightgown showing far too much of her body’s contours to be considered modest.
That was why he’d deliberately picked a fight with her, calling her spoiled. Nothing was as certain to get her dander up. And he needed her mad at him. When she was nice, she was too damn tempting. And this added dimension she’d recently acquired, this mysterious allure he’d never noticed before, only added to the overall package.
SONYA HAD THOUGHT that, once she and her mother were alone, she might broach the subject of calling off the wedding altogether. Though she wasn’t ready to admit she’d been seduced, conned, dumped and picked clean, she couldn’t allow the wedding plans to continue. Her mother had already spent a fortune on the preparations, much of it nonrefundable.
But Muffy’s first words, once they were alone, changed her
