Melanie jerked back like she had been slapped.
“Forweeksyou were so cruel to Tiffany. Why on earth would she invite you to her wedding?”
“Cruel?! More like I told her the truth. Truth she needed to hear. Some of us don’t need people like you kissing our ass all the time.”
“You told her she reminded you of your friend from camp, only your friend from camp was skinnier. What grown woman insults another woman’s weight for no reason? What grown woman is still bringing up camp?!”
“Whoa, look at you! All this time, so prim and proper. So calm, so collected. Who would have thought all you had to do was get Chef Yvonne Buchanan away from the cameras and her adoring public and the real bitch comes out?”
Evie hadn’t realized she was raising her voice. She swallowed a different kind of knot that was now blocking her throat, and straightened her shoulders.
“Ah, there we go. TV-ready Evie. You’re like damn pageant robot. No wonder the judges loved you. So lifelike, who’d think she was a real human?!” Melanie said with a harsh burst of laughter.
“Goodnight, Melanie.” Evie turned to leave, but stopped when Melanie grabbed her wrist. She instantly shook her off.
“Wait, we’re not done here.”
“Oh yes, we are. I’m going to say this in the nicest way I can. Stay away from me, Melanie. And please,” she added with more than a hint of disgust, “leave Tiffany alone. Excuse me.”
Evie turned again and started down the stairs. Later she’d have a faint memory of the words “self-righteous bitch” practically seething from between Melanie’s clenched teeth and the feeling of both of Melanie’s hands connecting with her back in a forceful shove. You could always count on Melanie’s reactions to any and all situations to be outsized and hellishly dramatic, but pushing someone down a flight of stairs was way over-the-top, even for Chef Melanie Burns.
Chapter 2
Nicole took her ID back from the nurse at the reception desk and followed her instructions toward the elevator. The sound of her boots squeaking across the tile floor mixed with the sound of her heart thudding in her ears. She’d never been this stressed before. Maybe an indicator of how charmed a life she’d led up to this point. All of her clients were amazing, talented people who shared her desire to aim as high as possible. Evie Buchanan was the best of them all.
Which is why it hit her extra hard when they found Evie unconscious in that stairwell.
Evie was a private person. Like Nicole she was excellent at drawing an appropriate line between the personal and professional, but after Evie had once let it slip just how difficult the holidays were for her, Nicole understood why Evie might need a short break from the joyful spirit of the evening. When an hour passed and no one had seen Evie, Nicole knew something was wrong. She tried to keep her unease about the situation under wraps, but as the clock ticked closer to one a.m. and Evie still wasn’t picking up her phone or responding to texts, Nicole decided it was time to have a conversation with security.
She cursed the gods for the fact that by the time they found Evie and the ambulance arrived, the bulk of the guests had moved on to more exciting after-hour activities. Nicole’s first priority was making sure Evie got the medical attention she needed and then she was going to find out what the fuck happened in that stairwell. Getting answers was made exponentially harder with the party guests scattered to the wind.
Nicole found the elevator and waited for two nurses and a man pulling on his trench coat to step off before she stepped on and hit the button for the tenth floor. Evie had been in the ICU for over forty-eight hours. She was breathing on her own, but even though the doctors were able to sew up the nonfatal gash on the side of her head, she remained unconscious. Nicole had almost dropped her coffee when the text from Evie’s roommate, Blaire, popped up on her cell. She’s awake.
“Come on.” Nicole used her knuckle to mash the door-closed button before checking her phone. She’d told Blaire to update her if anything changed on her way over to Presbyterian. Thankfully, her phone was bone dry. When the elevator finally hit the tenth floor, Nicole paused long enough to read the floor directory mounted on the wall before she turned left and took off at a run. Around another corner she found Blaire pacing outside an open door, tears running down her face. Their eyes met and Nicole’s knees almost gave out. Blaire froze and then, realizing what Nicole was thinking, waved her over.
“What it is?” Nicole asked, her chest feeling tighter.
“The doctors—something’s wrong. She can’t remember anything.” Nicole peered inside the room and felt the air rush out of her lungs. There was Evie, looking pretty worn-out and ragged, but alive nonetheless. She sat up in the hospital bed listening carefully to the doctor. She glanced at Nicole for just a second before turning her attention back.
Blaire wiped her face. “She woke up, so I called the nurse, but then as soon as I started talking to her I knew something was wrong. She just kinda froze and stared at me. It was eerie.”
“Who’s in there with her now?”
“That’s Sophia, the nurse on call, and Dr. Manzo came in to consult. There was another doctor around here somewhere, but he wouldn’t talk to me. Just the nurse.”
“Great.”
“Raquelle went to our apartment to get Evie’s glasses. She said she couldn’t see.”
“She wears contacts?”
“Yeah.”
“Did they kick you out?”
“No. I kinda lost it when she said she didn’t know her name, so I kicked myself out. I’ll go back in when I can keep it together. I can’t believe this.”
Nicole reached out and gave Blaire’s upper arm a firm squeeze. “She’s awake. That’s what matters. Let’s just wait and see what the doctor says.”