“No, just a good friend. This is her husband.”
Alejandro gave his name with his usual pride, but Dr. Pallares frowned slightly. “I hadn’t heard Ana Santillan had married, of course, I don’t follow popular culture as closely as some people do.”
Alejandro lowered his voice. “It was a quiet ceremony, and we hadn’t announced it to the public as yet. How is she?”
“Come with me, I’ll show you her X-rays.”
Alejandro brought Ana’s bag. Gian Carlo tagged along behind them. They were led to an empty treatment room where the physician put the X-rays on display. “Her lower right leg was broken in three places. An orthopedist will insert a rod through the center of the tibia to hold the bones in alignment. It will take several weeks to heal, but with time for rehabilitation, she should still be able to strut a runway gracefully. I do need your signature, Mr. Vasquez.” She had a clipboard with the proper forms, and he scanned them hurriedly before signing.
“Thank you. Ana suffered a concussion, and she’ll recover with rest. A plastic surgeon will repair the cut in her head. It sliced through her cheek, but again, with time to heal, she’ll be as beautiful as ever.”
“May I see her?” Alejandro asked.
“She’s being prepped for surgery, so you’ll have to wait until she’s in the recovery room. You’d be more comfortable at home. I’ll give you a call when she’s out of surgery.”
Alejandro shook his head. “My wife wouldn’t leave me. I’ll stay.”
“If you insist.” Dr. Pallares directed him to the waiting room on the surgery floor.
“I can’t leave either,” Gian Carlo explained and followed him. The small waiting room had more comfortable furnishings than the one in the emergency department, but neither man could relax.
Alejandro paced while Gian Carlo sat and shifted his position every other minute. “Do you suppose the cafeteria makes milkshakes?” he asked.
Sick with dread, Alejandro shook his head. “How can you think about food?”
“Milkshakes aren’t food, are they?”
“Yes, they are, but what does it matter? Go look for whatever you want.”
“Do you want me to bring you one? Milk has soothing qualities. It’s why people drink warm milk when they can’t sleep.”
Alejandro doubted he’d ever sleep again. “I’d only throw it against the wall.” He remembered licking frosting off Ana’s delectable body and had to sit down and rest his head in his hands. He ought to call her agent and Fatima, but he couldn’t find the necessary will. The same worry spun in his brain—if he hadn’t left Ana at Galen’s, she wouldn’t have been hurt. No matter how guilty Gian Carlo felt, Alejandro would always feel a thousand times worse. He’d known Ana only a month, but calling her his wife had been so easy. Their sudden marriage would only last until she woke. She’d probably be too sore to laugh, but she’d want to, and he’d have to pretend she hadn’t broken his heart.
Gian Carlo drank his milkshake in the cafeteria and fell asleep in his chair soon after rejoining Alejandro. Unable to sit still, Alejandro paced the long corridor with his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes focused on the shiny linoleum tile. He avoided glancing toward the clock in the waiting room each time he passed. He thought it cruel to post the time where frantic family members and friends had to wait hours for news of their loved ones and a second stretched forever.
He’d never considered medicine as a career, but he wished he knew more. He doubted a ballerina could easily regain her former strength and agility after suffering a badly broken leg. It would probably take months to recover, maybe more than a year. Dr. Pallares was either overly optimistic or admired Ana too highly to admit they couldn’t magically heal her injuries.
He found a wrapped mint in his jacket pocket and ate it. A patient was wheeled out of an OR at the end of the corridor, bound for the recovery room, but it wasn’t Ana. Bored walking the silent corridor, he sat down opposite Gian Carlo in the waiting room and stretched out his legs.
The model opened his eyes. “Any news?”
Alejandro shook his head.
Gian Carlo shoved himself out of his chair. “Want some hot chocolate? I’m going to get some.”
“Just bring me a bottle of water.”
“I’ll bring two.”
Gian Carlo reminded him of an overgrown puppy, desperate to please. He closed his eyes and woke with a start when Gian Carlo rushed in and turned on the television set suspended on the wall.
“The accident is on the news. I saw it do
wnstairs.” The next story was up, and he cursed. “I didn’t get up here on time. They had photos from the scene.”
Alejandro opened a bottle of water and took a long drink. “You don’t want me to see those.”
“I’m just warning you what to expect. The paparazzi have to be gathered outside, hoping for a chance to get in.”