Page 161 of Naughty Dreams
The job was done.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
DJ spent several days in the hospital. Not for his hand.
The kick to his abdomen had caused internal bleeding in his intestines. It would have killed him within a matter of a few days without advanced medical help.
Something new to give Roy nightmares.
DJ had a more optimistic view. “The bastard wouldn’t have gotten more than a few days with his toy. I would have died laughing my ass off at him.”
Moss had flown in the top hand specialist in the country, and after she and the hospital’s orthopedic surgeon conferred and did their magic, they confirmed DJ should regain full use of the fingers with diligent physical therapy. A pretty nurse provided DJ a heart-shaped stress ball to work his hand as soon as he was ready for that.
“If Steve, Pete and Tal were here, within a day I’d have ones shaped like butt plugs, penises and tits.” DJ offered that comment to Moss and Roy, who’d hovered at the hospital threshold while the doctors gave him the report.
Henry’s two-man security teams always posted on his door kept DJ unmolested during his hospital stay. But all the latest publicity in the DJ James saga, plus new adjustments to thetour schedule, pulled Moss in a hundred directions. DJ worked with him on the earliest reasonable date to return to the tour schedule, and how they were going to handle him not being able to play his guitar for a while.
“Glad I have a good singing voice,” he told Roy. “Else I’d be out of a job.”
“You have a good singing voice?” Roy asked. “When did that happen?”
Roy had been there as much as he could, but between Moss, the medical staff, and DJ needing time to rest and recuperate, they rarely had a moment by themselves. Whenever their eyes met and held, and it seemed like they might discuss more personal things, a nurse would come in, DJ would receive another call from half the known universe, or Moss would need input from him on something.
Ultimately, they accepted that while DJ was in the hospital, it wasn’t the time.
On day three, Roy received his own call while sitting in the guest chair, which he’d pushed back into a corner to be out of the path of approved well-wishers.
G wanted his help in Chicago. Since all his employees were contractors, when they had extended time between the jobs he was so selective about, they often sought other short-term, high-paying security work. With their skillset, they were always in demand.
“I’ll get back to you in an hour,” Roy said, after hearing the details.
“You got it, boss.”
DJ bid farewell to the elderly hospital volunteer who brought the book cart around. He’d given her an autograph for her granddaughters. Plus snagged a Rolling Stones magazine and a recipe book on candy-making.
After her departure, he proved he’d been paying attention to what Roy was doing. “So the news of you being available spread almost as fast as the story of my kidnapping.”
“The job’s from G. I only do word-of-mouth.”
“Best way to build a fan base,” DJ confirmed. He didn’t smile. “When do you have to go?”
“Tonight. It’s a four-day job, being an extra man for a conference the high value client is attending.”
“Anyone I know?” DJ asked. “Can you bring me back an autograph?”
“I expect they’d want one in return.”
“Hold on. I’ll sign this plastic urinal bottle. I haven’t used it.” DJ set the bottle aside. “When will you be back?”
Roy bit the bitter bullet. “Job’s done, DJ. I’m no longer employed by you.”
“I’m aware. When will you be back?” DJ stared at him.
The pause between them expanded as Roy tried to figure out what he should, could or wanted to say.
DJ’s expression shuttered and he changed the subject. “Hey, if you don’t get snapped up for another job right away, come see me at home. I’ll be out of this gown and looking like my studly self again, right?”
“You fishing for compliments?”
