Struck by the Billionaire's Love

Chapter 3: Prognosis

“Hey big sis! What's up?" Eshe answers the call to her oldest sibling, Kesha, bringing the phone up to her ear. Damien moves to stand in the doorway, giving her some space.

“Eshe, what's going on? Why did Michael Reese call me about Nia? Do I need to book a flight to come up there?" Kesha falls silent.

“Oh! Everything is fine! I'm here now," Eshe speaks breathily, trying to remain calm.

“I got caught up at work and didn't see I missed their call until a little bit ago. There was an after-school meeting. I'm so sorry I worried you. I will text everything after I get all the information." Eshe comforts her sister through the line, the voice of her older brother, Jermaine, chiming in.

“Ok. Sounds good," he says casually.

“Oh! Jermaine! You're there too!" Eshe smiles, his quick response surprising her.

“Thanks for answering, Eshe. See big sis? I told you nothin' was wrong. Eshe got it under control as always. You're so extra. Love yall, bye." He disconnects without wasting another second.

“Alright.. Thanks, Eshe, love you." Kesha sighs heavily and hangs up. Eshe stares at her phone in hand before tapping the the top corner of it against her forehead and scrunching her face. Slowly lowering her arm to her side, she loosens her grip on the device.

“I can't believe I lied to them… But they'll worry twice as hard if they knew I got hit by a car..." She exhales in defeat, grabbing the plastic bag in her lap and checking to make sure all her belongings are present.

“It sounds like you did the right thing, then. Plus, after you sign this contract, you won't have to worry about any expenses related to this entire ordeal and we can both put this situation behind us as though it never happened." Damien reassures her while crossing the room smoothly, unfolding the paper in his hands.

“What? No... I'm not signing anything while I have morphine in my system. Are you insane? How am I supposed to trust you with a tactic like that? And how am I supposed to believe you have all this money to burn when you look my age?" Eshe eyes him skeptically before diverting her attention back to her previous action and reaching into her bag.

“Darn. The face of my watch is broken, too…" She mutters, stuffing it back inside the bag.

“You know, you're 100% right. Here," he extends the contract to her and she ignores it, so he places it on her lap.

“Look it over later when you have the chance to make an educated decision. And this," he pulls a silver business card holder from his pants pocket and flips it open. After pulling out a card, he presents it to her.

“That has my direct number, so please don't lose it. Call me if you have questions, or after it's signed so someone can pick it up from wherever you are." She accepts his card and looks over it.

~ Damien Godlee, 773-555-5555. Wow. This tells me nothing about him. ~

She sucks her teeth.

“And if you must know, I'm 27, not 20." He tucks his hands into his pockets and glances at his shoes.

“I'm not 20! I'm 24. But thanks…" She bites back a grin.

“Knowing my luck, though, I'll lose this." She reaches to grab the solo pen sticking out of his breast pocket before writing her number on the back of the card.

“It's better if you call me." She smiles at him before tucking the card and pen back into his pocket then tapping it. The muscle of his chest flexes under contact of her fingertips, her teeth finding their way to her bottom lip as she makes eye contact. A short “Hm" echoes from his throat as he slides his hand against hers, holding it for a few seconds.

“I suppose I can't argue with that." He smiles at her, revealing a straight line of white teeth before resting his hands on the railing of her bed.

~ Ugh, stupid, handsome smile… ~

Lifting the contract from her lap and attempting to hand it to her again, she reluctantly accepts it then stuffs it carelessly into the bag before tying it shut.

Knock. Knock.

They both look face the door.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. We received the results and I have great news," a female doctor enters the room holding a file and stands at the foot of the bed.

“All of your images and blood-work came back normal. There are no broken bones or any sign of long-term damage. Are you currently in any pain or noticing any stiffness?" She asks Eshe, glancing at her from over the rim of her glasses.

“Just a headache and soreness. I can move my limbs and appendages." Eshe demonstrates wiggling her fingers and toes. The doctor scribbles something on the file.

“Excellent! You'll want to take a few days off to recover since you took quite a tumble. Be sure to ice and heat any trouble areas, take salt baths as needed, and we'll be sending you home with Ibuprofen," she instructs Eshe, maintaining eye contact until she directs her attention to Damien.

“And it's always a pleasure to see you, Damien. I had no idea you recently got married. Congratulations to you both." The doctor nods to them individually before rushing out.

“Okay, spill. That doctor was ready to leave as soon as she got in here, and she didn't even introduce herself. How do you know her?" Eshe points to the door while pursing her lips to the side. She leans against the right rail with an unfaltering gaze.

“Eh…" He scratches the back of his head and closes his eyes, cutting off a laugh with a cough.

“So, what happened there was… I met her at a medical convention last year when I was participating in a charity fund for the hospital. We shared an enjoyable evening," his face lights up as he reminisces.

“I let her know beforehand that I wasn't looking for anything serious before you start throwing daggers at me with your eyes." He holds his hands up in surrender, Eshe's harsh expression softening.

“If she knew you like that, how could she possibly think that you were married to me?" Eshe scrunches her face, gesturing from the door to herself.

“Oh, back when we met, I told her my last name was Johnson. I find it safer to use an alias as needed, especially when large sums of money are involved." He turns to the window and pulls the cord that rotates the blinds; the glow of a setting sun enters the room.

“Unbelievable. I feel like I can't trust the things that come out of your mouth but all I can do is take your word for it right now. What are the odds I would be one of her patients and my last name really is Johnson?" Eshe rubs her eyes before laying back in disbelief.

“I have to get to Nia before I go home. Don't let me forget." She doses off for a moment, his voice bringing her back to reality.

“I'm happy to escort you wherever you need to go. It doesn't sit well with me to abandon you in the hospital knowing you have no family to watch you…" He approaches her bedside and places his hand on the rail near hers.

“And judging by your shoes, I imagine you take public transportation to get around." His hand shifts to rest on her blanket covered knee and she glances at him.

“I do. It's a great way to stay in shape, if you must know," she grumbles, closing her eyes again.

“Right, and you shouldn't be doing a bunch of walking or taking the train with morphine in your system." He suggests, leaning over the rail and bringing his face closer to hers. Her eyes flutter open as darkness fills her senses, his head blocking out the overhead light.

“I'm not getting in a car alone with you. I'll never be heard from again." She turns slightly in the bed, glancing out the window at the skyline. He scoffs, pulling the blanket up over her shoulder to cover her exposed back.

“I have neither intention nor desire to hurt you." He tucks a stray tuft of her curly hair behind her ear, her gaze turning from the window to him out the corner of her eye.

“I would believe you, if you weren't the reason I'm in this bed." Her eyes regain focus on the window just after seeing the corner of his mouth fall into a grimace.

“You will never let me live that down, will you?" He presses the decline button on the bed rail, allowing her to get more comfortable. Silence as her only answer, his tone takes on one of defeat.

“I'm going to find something to eat and come right back. If they discharge you while I'm gone, please wait for me." He watches as she peeks at him and nods before closing her eyes.

“Can I get you anything?" Walking to the chair to grab his suit jacket, he glances over his shoulder at the sound of her voice.

“A thousand dollars and a new cell phone." She grumbles and falls asleep.