Wait for Me Read Free Page B

lyrics to “Come What May” from Moulin Rouge . She always sang when she was satisfied. He, on the other hand, didn’t feel like singing. What he really wanted was coffee. He thought about calling room service, but the commotion on the television caught his attention before he could find the phone.
    Lights flashed on the screen, people scrambled, sirens shrieked. A reporter relayed the news from yesterday as Ryan sat on the end of the bed and watched the coverage of the plane crash in San Francisco.
    His heart beat hard. His palms grew sweaty where they gripped the towel. It was like watching Annie’s plane crash all over again. His stomach clenched at the memory, a sharp stabbing pain that cut right to the center of him.
    His cell phone rang, startling him back to the present. Pushing to his feet, he ran a shaky hand over his face and pulled the screaming phone out of the slacks he’d tossed across the back of a chair only hours ago.
    “Harrison.”
    “You rat bastard.” Mitch Mathews’s deep voice boomed through the line, concern more than evident in his brother-in-law’s words. “Scared about ten years off my life. I’ve been calling you for hours. You see the news?”
    Ryan couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the screen. “Yeah, just saw it.”
    “Where are you?”
    He glanced around the room. “New York.”
    “Thank God. I thought you were flying out of San Francisco yesterday.”
    “I was supposed to. Hannah rescheduled a meeting in LA. I flew there yesterday, then here after.” He caught the airline and flight number when the reporter said it again and swallowed the lump in his throat. “Jesus, that was my flight.”
    “Son of a bitch,” Mitch muttered. “You gonna be okay?”
    “What?” Ryan was having trouble thinking. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
    “When are you coming back?”
    “Tonight, I think.” Ryan rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Julia’s gonna be pretty upset by this. Go by and see her, would ya? Your folks are at the house with her.”
    “Yeah, sure thing. You might not be able to get a flight back into San Francisco.”
    “I know. I’ll try Oakland or San Jose or Sacramento and drive. I want to get home.”
    “Okay. Call me before you leave.”
    “Will do. See ya.”
    The water had stopped, and Monique’s voice was now louder as she sang with her sexy French accent.
    Ryan closed his eyes and pressed the phone to his forehead. He didn’t want to be with her right now. A thousand thoughts and memories and feelings were flooding through him, and none of them were things he wanted to share with her.
    She was an attractive woman and he enjoyed her company when it was convenient, but he had no desire to get to know her hopes and dreams. And he certainly didn’t want to share his with her. Or cry about his past. If there were two things he never discussed with anyone, they were his wife and daughter.
    He turned back to the TV and clicked it off just as she stepped into the room. She wore a much-too-small towel wrapped around her curvaceous body, her wet, fire-red hair dripping down her back. A wicked smile spread across her lips.
    “ Mon cher .” She crossed the floor, her brick red-painted toes looking oddly like blood splatters on the plush, white carpet. “ Je me suis ennuyé de vous .”
    He knew enough French to know she was trying to lure him back into bed. He pulled away from her suffocating embrace. “I gotta go.”
    She batted her long, exotic eyelashes and stuck out her swollen bottom lip in a sexy little pout she’d perfected over the years. “ Non-sens . You said they aren’t even expecting you until after lunch. N’était pas par le passé assez . I want you again.”
    Her English was good, but she always slathered on the accent when she was trying to seduce him. He headed for the bathroom. “Yeah, well, as tempting as that is, I have to get to the office.”
    She followed, and when she rounded the corner, her eyes narrowed to see him already in his