Page 15 of Roark
“Yes, sir. I’ll bring your drink and let the chef know of your order.”
He nodded in lieu of thanking Lily again and sat back with a relieved sigh when she was gone. Being born into one of the wealthiest African American families in the world, Roark was used to the finer things in life. Still, he’d never been comfortable with people waiting on him so attentively. When necessary, he tolerated it, but it wasn’t a part of his life he cherished in any way.
His drink was perfect, the ambiance in the restaurant that of many traditional steakhouses he’d been in before. Only this one had a more authentic feel. He wasn’t sure if it was the dim lighting or the luxurious décor, but the black tablecloth and sparkling crystal settings, the leather-backed chairs and the sterling silver stemware, all gave him an old, aristocratic feel, and he settled in to enjoy it.
“The place almost burned to the ground. It was an awful and amazing sight to see, especially here in Painswick.”
“I agree, but Mrs. Marks is beside herself with worry. Reports say there were two women inside.”
Roark had looked up from scrolling through his text messages when he heard the two men walking past his table speaking. They went farther back into the restaurant to take a seat at a table near the window, and he found himself wondering about the remainder of their conversation.
A fire? Here in Painswick?
His food arrived seconds later, and Roark pushed his phone aside and decided to forget about the overheard conversation. The steak smelled delicious, and his stomach growled in protest to the almost ten hours he’d gone without eating. After saying grace, he picked up his knife and fork and was about to cut into the meat when the words rolled in his mind once more: A fire in Painswick?
What were the odds?
Setting the knife and fork down, Roark picked up his phone and pulled up the internet. He typed in the wordsfire Painswick UKand waited.
Cottage in Golden Valley… Fire… Injured Tuppence Gregory and Sandra Rayder…
Roark grabbed his phone from the table and stuffed it into his pocket as he stood. He walked quickly out of the restaurant, intending to go to his car. But, of course, he bumped into Lily.
“Is there something wrong with your meal, Mr. Donovan? Something I can get for you?”
He was about to tell her no and keep walking, but then he turned back to her. “Where’s the nearest hospital to a place called Golden Valley?”
“Are you hurt, sir? I can get a doctor to come here to take a look at you?”
“No.” He shook his head impatiently. “It’s not me. Never mind, I’ll just look on Google or something. I need to get my car.”
“We can have it brought to the front door, Mr. Donovan. And I’ll get the address to the hospital for you. Just follow me up front.”
Lily was helpful, and more under foot than he liked, but again, Roark followed her. Minutes later he was running down the front steps of the manor and jumping into the driver’s seat of his car. With the address to the hospital already programmed in his phone, he attached it to the dash mount and then drove. He didn’t stop to think why it was so important that he get to that hospital; he just focused on getting there.
Tamika leaned over in the chair, her face buried in her hands, her mind repeating one thing—don’t cry.
She couldn’t cry, not here and not now. It wasn’t going to help anything if she did, and besides, she didn’t want to feel weak. The jury was still out on whether or not crying was really a weakness, but in her mind it was. And not just because Colin had said so, but because of how helpless she recalled feeling every time she’d ever allowed herself to cry over her circumstances.
No, she shook her head, took a deep breath and sat upright in the uncomfortable hospital waiting room chair. This was no time for tears. Running her fingers through her hair, she rotated her shoulders and declared she’d remain strong. No matter what those doctors said when they came to speak to her, she’d remain strong and she’d deal with whatever needed to be done. She really had no other choice.
There was no one but her. She had no siblings, and her father was gone. Tamika was as alone in life as she’d been in this large waiting room for the last five hours. Tuppence didn’t have any family either, so that was another weight on her shoulders right now. What was she going to do if the woman didn’t make it? While she’d been allowed to ride in the ambulance with her mother, Tamika had no idea what Tuppence’s condition was. No doctors had come to speak to her yet, so all she could do was sit here and wait.
She stood and walked instead.
Folding her arms over her chest, she walked from one side of the waiting room to the other, back and forth. She looked over to the window periodically, seeing that the sky was now dark, lights from the street and other buildings prickling through the night. She continued to walk. Her feet were hurting, so she kicked her shoes under the chair she’d been sitting in and continued pacing.
No police had come to the hospital. That didn’t make a lot of sense. Didn’t they have questions? Wouldn’t they want to know more about the two victims who’d been in the house? She definitely had questions, but they were buried somewhere beneath the heavy fog of fear for her mother’s life.
What was she going to do if her mother died? How was she going to go on?
Shaking her head vehemently, Tamika kept walking, this time picking up her pace as if moving faster would get her somewhere. Anywhere but here.
“Ms. Rayder?”
She spun around at the deep voice, expecting to see a doctor standing in the entryway. Her already pounding heart paused and then thudded as she looked into the searing russet-brown eyes of Roark Donovan. “What are you doing here?”
“I came as soon as I heard about the fire. Can you tell me what happened?” He took a couple of steps closer to her before stopping. She was still a few feet away from him and decided to stand still. He looked different from earlier. His jeans were dark, his shirt molded to his chest. But that wasn’t the only difference—there was something about the way he was staring at her.
