Last Second Chance (15 page)

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Van said low, nearly in her ear.

Her entire body flushed from the unexpected contact. She hadn’t seen him since he’d left her alone and aching the night before.

“Um, yeah. You’re right. Excuse me, Mr. Walker.” She met his stare, and heat flared in his eyes.

“I don’t know what turns me on more. You saying that I’m right or calling me Mr. Walker.”

Stella glanced around to make sure no one else was in hearing distance. Day one and he was already blowing their cover. She did her best to keep her voice even, nonchalant.

“I could call you Mr. Ransom if you’d prefer.”

“I can think of lots of things I’d like you to call me, cowgirl. But we’ll get to that.”

The confidence in his expression turned her on and pissed her off. So she’d admitted she wanted him. But his writing her off as a foregone conclusion and being so brash about it ruffled her nerves a bit.

“Okay, then. Have a nice day,” she said, stepping quickly around him.

“It’s much nicer now,” he told her with a wink that effectively evaporated her annoyance with him.

Forcing herself not to grin like a giddy schoolgirl, she shook her head and walked away, tossing him a small warning glance with a smile over her shoulder. But the sweltering heat from his gaze on her backside made it difficult to focus for the rest of the day.

After hours of transcribing electronic files to paper ones for Dr. McLendon, Stella was eager to get down to the barn. She wasn’t sure if Van would be helping her that evening, but she damn sure hoped so.

Using her fingerprint to clock out, she wished a good evening to Celeste at the front desk and turned to leave. But what she saw coming their way—blowing toward them in the way a hurricane would—stopped her short.

A wild-looking woman with white-blond hair streaked through with black and deep violet strode purposefully forward on black spike-heeled boots that would’ve caused Stella to break her neck. Her fishnets encased shapely legs that seemed to be a mile long under a black leather miniskirt.

Stella suspected that this exotic creature was checking in. Probably a supermodel or musician. Cursive words Stella couldn’t make out inked up the woman’s slender arms. A diamond stud gleamed from the side of her nose. Her piercing blue eyes were soulful, as if she carried the world’s secrets in them.

Stella couldn’t have explained it if her life depended on it, but something about this woman had her feeling uneasy inside. As if somehow they were linked and didn’t know it. But that was impossible. Stella had never seen this woman before in her life.

“I’m looking for a patient here,” the woman barked at Celeste when she reached the desk. “Van Ransom. He may have checked in as John Walker.”

Jesus. Stella’s world pitched and rolled, the ground suddenly turning to liquid. She held the edge of the desk where she stood.

“Today isn’t a visiting day, I’m afraid,” Celeste informed her, allowing some of the air that had fled from Stella’s lungs to return. “But I can get a message to him that you’ve—”

“I’m his fiancée, and it’s actually urgent that I speak with him.”

Every single word hit Stella with the same force that a punch from him would’ve.

Fiancée? The main lobby spun around her as she forced a smile at both women. She couldn’t stick around and wait to find out if this woman got to see Van. She had no idea how much longer her thin grip on composure would hold.

But as she walked away, Celeste asked the creature what her name was. When the woman answered, Stella stopped in her tracks.

“Vanessa Reeves.”

Van’s voice echoed the name in her head. She was the same person he’d had removed from his list of family contacts. She knew because she’d removed her immediately upon his request.

“Celeste? Can I borrow you for just a second?” Stella called out while jerking her head to the side.

“One moment, Miss Reeves,” Celeste told Van’s unwelcome visitor. Once she’d stepped over to Stella, Stella nodded in the woman’s direction.

“He had her removed from his list of approved visitors. I don’t know who she is or if she’s really his fiancée, but I do know for a fact that he had her removed.”

“Great.” Celeste rolled her caramel-colored eyes and blew auburn bangs out of them. “She looks like the type that will take that news extremely well.”

Stella grimaced in sympathy. “I know. I’m sorry. Want me to page Dr. Ramirez and let him break the news to her?”

Celeste glanced over her shoulder to where Vanessa Reeves stood looking angry and impatient.

“Um, do you mind? I know you just clocked out and I hate to ask—”

“I don’t mind at all.” She told herself it was concern for respecting client wishes that was motivating her actions, but deep down she felt the strange new stir of jealousy that accompanied other women saying his name in that territorial tone.

After she’d used the phone on the front desk to page Dr. Ramirez to the front desk, she aimed what she hoped was a warm smile in Vanessa’s direction. “Our director will be here shortly to speak with you.”

Stella felt as if it were probably time for her to move along now. But Celeste stood so close their shoulders were practically touching, which led her to suspect that the younger girl needed her for moral support. Providing a united front and all that. Vanessa Reeves did have a glare on her face that made her wonder if the woman was considering procuring the sharpest object in reaching distance and stabbing her way through the two of them.

Thankfully Dr. Ramirez appeared before she made a move to act on the thoughts likely brewing behind murderous eyes.

“Yes, ma’am. How can I help you this evening?” he greeted her, nodding at Stella and Celeste as he approached.

“She’s asking to see John Walker,” Celeste informed him.

“I just flew to this Godforsaken place from Los Angeles and I’d like to see my fiancé. Sooner rather than later if that’s all right with you.”

Dr. Ramirez took the electronic tablet from Celeste, the one Stella knew probably had Van’s short list of approved visitors on it. He cleared his throat, glancing at the tablet and then at the woman growing increasingly fidgety by the second. She adjusted and readjusted the multiple metal bangles on her wrist as she waited for Dr. Ramirez to respond.

“I understand. And while I’m sure it’s simply an oversight, your name isn’t on Mr. Walker’s approved list of visitors. And even if it were, this is Wednesday, and visiting day is Sunday. I realize you’ve made quite the long trip. We can provide you with a list of local hotel accommodations if needed.”

Vanessa’s eyes narrowed at the man. Stella half-expected him to begin melting under her angry glare.

“He probably assumed I wouldn’t come since it’s so far from where we live. Hence why he left me off his list. But I can assure you, if he knew I was here, he’d want to see me.” So abruptly Stella almost missed it, the woman flashed her left hand, which, sure enough, held a sizable diamond ring on her finger.

Stella Jo cursed herself under her breath. How could she have been so stupid? He was engaged and planning to entertain himself by screwing around while he was here before heading back to reality and his soon-to-be wife.

She could hardly even begin to guess what Van Ransom would even want with her when he had this punk-rock supermodel waiting at home. She felt extremely bland in her black dress pants and vanilla-colored silk shirt. How dull she must look compared to this bold, louder-than-life person. If she wasn’t mistaken, the thin girl had surgically enhanced breasts. Easily two cup sizes larger than hers. Not that she was comparing or anything.

She would look right at home on Van’s arm. The perfect wife of a rock star. Stella would look like his publicist.

Forcing herself to swallow over the constricting lump in her throat, she nodded to Dr. Ramirez and shot a ‘good luck’ half-smile at Celeste before walking out the door.

She left her fantasy of breaking the rules with Van Ransom in the lobby with his fiancée.

“M
r. Ransom,” a male voice said as the door to his room opened slowly.

“Come on in,” Van called out from his couch.

His manager sat on the other end of the small sofa, and once the tall, Hispanic doctor entered, the room was sufficiently cramped. Van was looking forward to hitting his thirty days and getting moved to a private residence more every day.

The main reason for his impatience taunted him in his head. Her laugh, her lips, the beautiful hesitant smiles.

Whenever he caught glimpses of her in passing, she wasn’t typically smiling. But he’d consistently found ways to bring that sexy shade of pink to her cheeks and curve that luscious mouth of hers.

Those smiles belonged to him, and he treasured each and every one of them.

“Van? Did you hear what Dr. Ramirez just said?” His manager’s question pulled him reluctantly from a quickly forming fantasy about the many ways he wanted to feel her mouth on him.

“Sorry.” He shook his head as if that could even begin to clear the vivid images from his head. She was so ingrained in his mind that he caught the faintest hint of her sweet wildflower scent. He was fucking losing it. Once and for all. “Long day. What can I do for you, Dr. Ramirez?”

Glancing up, he noticed that the man looked kind of strange. His brow was creased, and he closed the door gently behind him.

“Mr. Walker, please know that we do our best to protect your privacy and respect your wishes.”

Van glanced at Sid, who shrugged. Clearly Van wasn’t the only one who didn’t have a clue what the man was talking about. He sincerely hoped it wasn’t anything to do with Stella. Unless the man was giving them his blessing, which he highly doubted.

“Okay. Thanks. I appreciate that,” he said, because what else was there to say?

The doctor cleared his throat. Loudly. “That being said, some instances simply can’t be avoided. Which is why you have an approved list of visitors that we adhere to strictly.”

“Yes, sir. I understand,” he said, nodding for him to continue. Van wasn’t sure where this was going, but judging from the way the man’s shoulders sagged, it wasn’t anyplace good.

“Unfortunately, if someone, say, a fiancée, wanted to make a surprise visit, this would become problematic for a multitude of reasons because—”

“Wait, what? Whose fiancée? I don’t have a fiancée.” Van stood, suddenly feeling dangerously claustrophobic in the tiny room. The gears in his brain began whirring so loudly he could barely hear his manager telling him to calm down as he advanced on the doctor. “I have an
ex
-fiancée, but I made it perfectly clear that she was to be removed from my list. I informed a care coordinator myself.”

Dr. Ramirez placed his hands up, his palms facing Van as if to hold him off should he launch a physical attack.

“I understand. And when Miss Chandler paged me, she explained that Miss Reeves had in fact been removed from your list per your request.”

Motherfucking son of a crazy-ass bitch.

Vanessa had found him and had likely spouted her delusional bullshit all over everyone. Everyone including Stella Jo Chandler apparently.

The image forming in his mind—Vanessa storming into SCR, throwing a hissy fit of her usual brand, and saying who the hell knew what in front of Stella—made him feel sick. He knew how far Vanessa’s delusions went. There had been times when she’d gotten so high she’d sworn she’d had detailed in-depth conversations with Val after she’d been dead for years.

Clearly she’d announced herself as his fiancée even though they’d only been engaged for a few months and that was over a year ago.

His heart pumped harder as it sank in that Vanessa might’ve destroyed every ounce of progress he’d made with Stella Jo Chandler.

“So the situation is handled then?” Sid asked.

Van had missed everything the two men had said except that. He was pretty sure the doctor confirmed that it was.

The fuck it was. Checking his watch, he saw that it was nearly seven. If Stella Jo was down at the barn convincing herself he had a fiancée, what did she think about everything he’d told her? About their brief time together? It was too fucking brief. He wasn’t done. Hell, he hadn’t even started. But he knew how stubborn she was. How little patience and tolerance she had for games and lies.