Caught Up In You ( Edgeplay Part 1) Read Free Page A

happened?”
    Doctor Fletcher looks perturbed. “Someone left the door to the parking area open when they were unloading a supply truck, and he wandered out and fell down the incline leading to the main road.”
    Closing my eyes, I drop my head into my hands. “He could have been hit by a car.”
    “The staff has already been chastised and the orderly who propped the door open reprimanded.” The doctor places his hand on my shoulder. “Have you thought about upgrading him to a better facility? I could recommend some excellent ones that deal exclusively with Alzheimer’s patients. They’re better prepared to cater to Thomas’s particular needs.”
    Of course I’ve thought about it. Problem is, I can’t afford it. “I wish I could.”
    The doctor escorts me to the room where Pops is resting. His heart monitor beeps a steady reassuring rhythm. Sitting in the chair beside the bed, I take his hand. Paper thin eyelids lift. His gaze is foggy under the heavy medication. “Hiya, Pops.”
    He smiles and closes his eyes again. “Tired.”
    “It’s the meds,” Doctor Fletcher tells him. “Does anything hurt?”
    “At my age, everything hurts,” Pops says wryly, a ghost of his old self. “Beats the alternative though.”
    “We’re going to keep you overnight for observation.”
    Doctor Fletcher pulls me aside.
    “Thank you for getting here so quickly.” I smile up at him, my constant advocate. Doctor Fletcher has been with me throughout the downward spiral of Pops’s health and I appreciate everything he’s done.
    His gaze fixes on my face. “Is everything all right with you, Baily? You sleeping okay?”
    I think about my moonlight swims, about being pleasured the night before by a total stranger and how it was such a relief from the nonstop heartache and worry of my daily life. Except that by letting it happen, I inadvertently made things worse.
    Glancing at the clock on the wall, I gasp at the time. “Shoot, I was supposed to be at a meeting forty five minutes ago! I’ll be back later.”
    “Drive safe,” Doctor Fletcher calls out as I hurry toward the nearest bank of elevators.
    Snarkarella is in fine form the entire thirty-seven minute drive back to the estate, mentally flagellating me for standing up my boss. Soon to be ex-boss.
    “It was a family emergency,” I reason aloud as I turn up the drive. It’s ten to five. I’m almost two hours late for my meeting with Mr. Edge. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”
    Actually, I’m sure of nothing. I’m unable to decide if I ought to duck into the cottage and change out of my grubby clothes, or if that will only compound the problem.
    In the end, I decide that my extreme tardiness is more offensive than my bedraggled physical state. As head groundskeeper, Mr. Edge must be aware that I work for a living. Doubtful a clean pair of jeans or even a dress would change the outcome of today’s meeting.
    I take the stone steps two at a time and enter the cool foyer. Marble tiles and a vaulted ceiling give the entrance to the house that grandiose feel. An antique mahogany table and a gilded mirror sit to the right of the double doors. A curving staircase straight out of Gone with the Wind leads to the second story, eye level with the crystal chandelier. Pausing by the mirror, I do my best to scrape my out-of-control hair away from my face. Humidity wreaks havoc with the natural curls, giving me that wild Man of Borneo effect.
    Snarkarella snorts in derision.
    Just as I recognize that I might have to search the entire house for Mr. Edge, the click of heels comes from the back hallway.
    “May I help you?” A beautiful brunette raises one sculpted eyebrow in my direction. She’s wearing a gray checked sheath dress, with a wide cherry red belt. Her waist is about the size of one of my thighs. Red four inch heels and a red beret perched jauntily on her head match the belt. Her accent is distinctly French, and her tone implies she believes me to be beyond