Page 3 of The Exposed Heiress

Her gaze flitted around the room, not settling on anything in particular. “Do you believe he’ll recover?”

Jeremy remained silent for a moment and then said, “He’s in good physical condition and the doctors here will do everything possible. But he has many broken bones and damaged organs.”

Emma stood up and wiped away a few tears. There was nothing she could do but wait.

Jeremy stood up and pulled her into a tight embrace. She reminded herself to be strong. Others were counting on her.

He led her over to the sofa and she sat down.

Emma massaged her temples. “My head feels odd. It must be the stress.”

Jeremy removed his tie. “Are you hungry? It’s nearly nine o’clock and you’ve probably not eaten in hours.”

She took in a deep breath. “I don’t think so.”

He checked his phone. “Ava is bringing over coffee and sandwiches. We should eat something.”

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he said, “I see a hospital administrator in the hall. I’m going to speak with her about additional security and limiting access until we can move Dad to a private facility.”

Emma thought about the couture house. Her father insisted on secrecy and control. How would she possibly convince the board that she could pull all of it together without his involvement? Her father hadn’t wanted to lay off employees, but most of their assets had been compromised with significant loans.

At nearly two o’clock in the morning, she and Jeremy decided to leave the hospital for a few hours of sleep.

He pushed the button for the main elevator. “Are you sure that you’re ready to give a statement?”

Emma smoothed down her green linen skirt. “I came from work, so luckily I’m dressed appropriately.”

Jeremy leaned against the wall. “We were raised getting ready for photo opportunities, so it’s hard to imagine you’d look rumpled or disheveled in any situation.”

Emma gave him a small smile. Her older brother may work in architecture, she thought, but he looked polished and presentable in any situation. He had re-fastened his tie and his suit looked neatly pressed after countless hours in the waiting room.

The hospital administrator preceded them into the elevator. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Her role was to exude confidence and make everyone believe her father would survive.

When the doors opened to the lobby, she saw a few reporters off to the side.

As Emma stepped in front of a microphone, a reporter called out, “Is James Bolles dead?”

Emma took in a steadying breath and then said, “No. As you know, my father was gravely injured this evening when he was riding his bike. A lorry struck him. We don’t know all the details yet. He does have a head injury and numerous broken bones, including a fractured pelvis. This hospital is known for its trauma center. But even with wonderful care, my father will need time to recover.”

A man wearing a baseball cap called out, “Has his doctor said that he’ll recover?”

Emma grasped Jeremy’s arm. Adrenaline flowed through her body, causing her heart to race and a bitter taste to flood her mouth. “It’s too soon for his doctor to give any specific predictions. But we have been told that he’s stable and resting.”

Another reporter asked, “Who will lead Francis Bolles while your father is recovering?”

Emma crossed her arms and attempted to push away images of her father lying in a hospital bed. “We haven’t had time to make a decision.”

She had been the head designer for the last three years at Francis Bolles, but she had no idea if the board was going to appoint her as the interim director. Besides her father, she was the only remaining Bolles at the couture house, but the board could act in odd ways.

Jeremy put up his hands. “We are not taking any further questions. We are exhausted and my father is in good hands.”

Emma said, “Thank you for being here. I know it’s late.”

The hospital administrator guided them out through the front lobby doors.

A uniformed security guard opened the car door for Emma and she slipped into the passenger seat.

Her brother opened his door and thanked the guard. Climbing in, he asked, “Are you okay? Do you want to go back to your place or you could come home with me?”

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