Page 39 of Reputation (Tempt)

“Brooklyn,” I said, heading straight for the parking garage. Since I’d only planned to attend the party and then go home, I’d asked Jackson to stay at the house. “Take a breath, sweetie.” I waited a beat then asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yes, but Emmy—” She started crying harder, and I fought to stay calm despite my rising panic.

“Something happened to Emmy,” I said, trying to understand. Trying not to freak the fuck out. Losing my cool wouldn’t help.

I heard some noise in the background, and then Andre, our chef, said, “Emmy had some kind of allergic reaction and was taken to the hospital. Brooklyn did the right thing—calling 9-1-1.”

I was so proud of my daughter—staying calm. Calling for help.

“How’s Emerson?” I climbed into my car, yanking off my tie and unbuttoning the top two buttons of my shirt. I’d hoped that would help me breathe easier, but it hadn’t made a damn difference.

“She was conscious when they took her,” Andre said. “I think.” His voice wavered, though I could tell he was trying not to scare Brooklyn. “I don’t know. There was so much going on.”

“Daddy. I’m scared,” Brooklyn whispered, and it damn near broke me.

“Where was she taken?” My only thought was of getting to Emerson. Of making sure she was okay.

Andre was too upset to relay the details, so Belinda took over, filling me in and assuring me she would take care of Brooklyn. I promised to call Brooklyn as soon as I had an update. We ended the call, and I punched the gas, speeding toward the hospital.

I kept picturing Emerson in the back of the ambulance. Her body limp and lifeless. Her warmth and personality just…gone.

Fuck.I slammed my hand against the steering wheel, filled with regrets for how I’d treated her in the past. For all the things I’d left unsaid.

I can’t stop thinking about you.

I don’t know what I’d do without you and not just because of Brooklyn.

When I pulled up to the hospital, I grabbed the baseball hat I kept in my glove box and climbed out of the car. The valet’s eyes went wide when he saw my McLaren, and I was grateful he seemed more interested in my vehicle than its owner.

I jogged inside, stopping at the nurses station despite my every instinct telling me to keep moving.

Don’t make eye contact.

Don’t let them recognize you.

“I’m here for Emerson Thorne,” I said in a rush, careful to keep my head ducked and my hat pulled low.

“Unless you’re family, you’ll have to wait,” the nurse said without giving me a second glance. So far, I’d been successful at concealing my identity.

“I, um, I—” I glanced around, desperate to see Emerson. To know she was okay. I cleared my throat and slid a Benjamin across the top of the counter.

Her eyebrows nearly rose to her hairline, but otherwise, she didn’t react. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that.”

I debated slipping her more money, but I got the feeling she wasn’t going to budge.Fuck. Maybe I would’ve had more luck offering her a selfie.

I walked away from the desk and stood in front of the vending machines, feigning interest in their contents while debating my options. Brooklyn had already texted me a handful of times, and I knew she was freaking out. I didn’t know what to tell her. I didn’t know anything.

I could feel the curious stares of several people in the waiting area. There was a whispered hush of interest, and I heard my name uttered once or twice. They talked about me as if I weren’t even there. As if I weren’t a real person. I had about ten seconds before someone approached for an autograph.

Fuck. Fucking. Fuck.

What had I even been thinking? Coming to the hospital. Hoping I could go unnoticed.

Ihadn’tbeen thinking. That was the problem. When I’d heard that Emerson was hurt, my first thought was to comfort her.

Now I was at risk of causing an incident, and I was still no closer to seeing Emerson.

My blood pressure skyrocketed, even as I ducked my head, trying to hide behind the bill of my hat. It didn’t matter what I did; I was running out of time.

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