Chapter 17: Unannounced Arrival
It's official: I'm a prostitute. A costly one, but nonetheless a disgusting sex-seller. As I prepared to travel to the hospital, I was unable to face my own reflection. I was about to remove every mirror and donate them to the Goodwill. Shame marred my reflection. If my father knew what I had done, he would be disgusted. He will never learn the truth because of this.
But as he promised, Smith Mason paid my father's medical expenditures up until there was nothing left. It's helpful to have wealthy pals. Not that I would consider him a friend. He resembled a nemesis more than anything. He had split in half all of my rules before breaking me as well. He hadn't tried to pursue me as a girlfriend because there was only a strong chemical desire between us. He basically buys anything he wants and gets away with it. And that is the case.
On the other hand, he assisted my father and I, so I felt grateful. What would have occurred if I hadn't arrived with the cash? Would they have switched off the light and left Dad in the room?
When I got to the front door, I forced myself to stop thinking. A young nurse in purple scrubs and white tennis shoes stopped me as I was about to enter his room.
She glanced at me while setting a tray of prescription bottles on a counter. "Are you related to Mr. Davis?"
I came to a halt. Since I appeared to be familiar with the facility, the majority of the employees didn't bother to interrogate me. My ears audibly thudded with my heartbeat. Please break some good news to me. "Yes. Has something changed?
Come, we've relocated him. I'll lead the way.
As the nurse guided me into an unknown hallway, my shoulders relaxed.
My phone rung with a text message notice. As I checked the sender's name, butterflies appeared in my stomach.
Smith:
> Come see me at my office at 2:00.
He never took the time to ask whether I could depart and his texts were always brief. He wanted me to cancel all of my plans and attend to his every demand, and that was extremely rude. Why did everything have to be done at the last minute? I bit my lip as I tried to keep my eyes on the path and thought of suitable responses. It would be awful to run into a hospital wagon.
"No use of a cell phone is permitted." My rambling thoughts were interrupted by the nurse when she hesitated and turned around. "You may use the common areas, but you must turn it off here."
I bit on the inside of my cheek as anxiety surged in my chest. "May I just respond to this? It will only take a moment.
The nurse appeared apprehensive but eventually gave in.
I held the phone in my two hands. How could I leave to meet him? I leave for an exciting encounter with the world's favorite bachelor after my father recovers from a potentially fatal surgery. No, not going to happen. He needed me more than Smith did since my father's life was in danger.
I quickly retorted.
>Sorry. I've been busy taking care of Dad tonight.
I switched the phone off and tucked it away in my bag. The writing quickly faded into the background as the air began to smell of lavender instead of medical cleanser. With a unique piece of art hanging on each panel, the white walls weren't quite so stark. The entire hall felt cozier and exuded luxury. Even the water pitchers were different, and the serving trays were overly sparkling. Nothing made any sense. Instead of a hospital, it had the appearance of a luxury resort. Why did you move him? Why wasn't I informed?"
It follows surgery and is common." The nurse smiled sympathetically but did not offer an explanation.
I was overwhelmed by the hallway's oppressive heat. As we walked by, I tapped a carafe with my fingertips to hear whether there was a cling. Was it made of glass? No, it was heavyweight plastic, but it was still gorgeous. "This? This isn't how things usually work. What's going on here?
My father must have been relocated while I was away last night. Smith had taken me to the hospital, paid the bills, and taken me shopping after lunch and sex. Until he let me go, I was unable to move. Even though he didn't treat me like one, I still felt like one because I was at his beck and call. To him, I was just a body that was there for him to utilize whenever he wanted. The most peculiar thing was seeing Smith Mason shopping in a supermarket like the rest of us. He observed me reading ingredient labels to select the proper box of granola bars and he appeared confused and perplexed. Fortunately, after two hours of running errands, he was sufficiently worn out to drive me back to my car so I could drive home.
"Miss Davis, everything is wonderful. With the help of Mr. Mason, we moved him. She didn't even need to read the clipboard. She recited the name of the well-known millionaire with a smile on her lips.
I resisted the impulse to roll my eyes as my jaw became rigid. I wanted to grab a medical rag and remove that smile from her face. She had no idea who she was dealing with because they had transferred him on short notice without asking for my permission. I hated how the man now had complete power over my life. Smith isn't even my father's relative. They didn't ask me first, which really upset me.
Dad became the only thing on everyone's mind. What was he contemplating at this moment? He is aware that we lack the funds necessary for this. I raised my chin. "That's very kind of you, but the prior room was fine. This is entirely unneeded.
She cocked her head to the side, but her expression remained dreamy. "Should we relocate him back to the east wing?"
My nose filled with the smell of vomit and alcohol disinfection as soon as I saw the corridor from which we had just emerged. I forced the painful knot in my throat to be swallowed. Why would I desire that for my father? Was I being foolish and arrogant at the same time? To force a grin from my hesitant lips required all of my courage. My shoulders gave out. I murmured, "No, it's okay. Just take me to his room, please.
She maintained a static smile throughout. She held the clipboard to her chest with an overly bright smile on her face. She nodded, motioning for me to go on, "Absolutely."
I fought the urge to take the clipboard out of her hands and strike her in the head with it. Because I had briefly glimpsed at the corner of a weekly tabloid at the store yesterday, I was well aware of Smith's standing as a sex symbol. As we loaded items onto the conveyer line, I pretended not to notice. I didn't need to read articles about the handsome billionaire because I personally witnessed the drama. Furthermore, because he isn't hot stuff, he would never have the thrill of having me think so. He's simply a man, and I'll treat him as such. Typical, commonplace man.
But the nurse wasn't completely blameless. The skin surrounding my lips tightened, and I lengthened my neck. I'll need to look over his meal plan.
I cleared my throat and grabbed the paper from her hands after entering a lavish suite and noticing my father relaxing with velvety crimson blankets. I looked through the selection of filet mignon, prawns, and caviar. Everything was there except for the cognac. For all I care, they might move him to the rooftop sun deck, but at least I would be in charge of his food. I gave her a stern smile and handed her the menu back. "I appreciate it. Please make sure he doesn't receive any red meat unless it is grass-fed because he is lactose intolerant. Stew that.
The nurse moved past me and retrieved a bowl of partially consumed blueberries and pomegranate seeds from the patient's bedside. She turned to my father and said, "I'll write it in his file and tell the kitchen." "Mr. Davis, how are we feeling today?"
He said with a smile, "Better now that she's here.
My gut was suddenly filled with remorse. I arrived at the hospital two hours later than usual. I apologize for being late, but the past month had been a mental whirlwind, making it difficult for me to think clearly enough to complete even basic tasks. Last night, Smith had used up all of my remaining energy. I was glad to see my dad's cheerful expression, though.
His eyes were brighter and he appeared more healthier than before, despite the fact that his complexion was pasty and colorless. Why didn't we perform the procedure sooner? It didn't matter; we finished it right away, and he looked better. After taking a deep breath out, I relaxed my shoulders. He should be alright, in my opinion.
He moved his mouth to the side, squinted one eye, and looked at my upper torso. "You appear different. More relaxed."
I swallowed and drew my cardigan closer to my body. I had to quickly shift the subject and hide the fact that Smith was making me into someone I wasn't. I screamed, "So do you."
And that was accurate. I had never seen a face that was as smooth. Even though I was shocked to see the improvement over what I had offered at home, it was excellent to have professional attention.
"I have no cause for complaint. The staff is friendly, and this morning they gave me a strange skin treatment to make me appear like I hadn't spent days sleeping in a hospital. The expression on his face darkened. "Livia, who's footing the bill for this?"
I kept quiet since I wasn't sure if he wanted to praise me or wring my neck. I chose not to respond since there was no way that I could concoct a story that quickly. I instead placed a hand on his forehead. "How are you feeling? No aching or severe discomfort in the chest region?
He raised an eyebrow and gave me a stern look before dropping his shoulders and softening his eyes. "There was absolutely no discomfort or suffering. Just a stinging feeling when I move too much. The stitches are still new.
Unexpectedly, I felt a sense of relief wash over my shoulders—not just from the accomplishment of the surgery, but also from the fact that I had succeeded in getting out of the situation. The last thing dad needed to hear while he recovered was that his daughter had been hired as a hooker. My lips twitched into a smile. Do not move about too much, I say.
I took a long, deep breath through my nose and let it out for the first time in weeks. I was worn out after yesterday's pounding, so after my father went to sleep, I left a letter letting him know I would be back in the evening. As soon as I went outside, the crisp air slapped me in the face.
I had a shower and a meal when I came home before retiring early. I was fatigued from working with Smith, but when I lay on my back, my mind was racing. I wondered if I had made the correct decision by accepting his offer as I regarded the ceiling in awe. I wouldn't get wealthy with the cash. Not at all. However, if I continued to work for him, my father and I would be able to live comfortably and worry-free. However, I couldn't rely on the arrangement indefinitely. Of course Smith would weary of the same old escort, but I would make every effort to extend the agreement as much as possible.
Sleep was tough for me because of the guilt that was weighing heavily on my conscience. I rolled onto my side and regarded nothing in particular. Did Dad know who handled his bill-paying? Darkness eventually engulfed me and drew me into a deep sleep.
The home was filled with the sound of loud knocking.
I jerked myself to my feet, perspiring from the many layers of linens covering me. I massaged my eyes as I made an effort to collect my thoughts. I pushed the hair from my forehead, swung my legs out of bed, and walked downstairs. Who could that possibly be? I took a quick look at the time. Even though it was just three o'clock, I had to go back to the hospital in an hour or so. I rubbed my eyes and snatched up a pair of pajamas.
The door shook in response to another knock.
"Just a second!" Whoever it was, they were insane and didn't even wait for me to advance three feet before slamming the door.
I flung it open to discover Smith in a black suit standing on the doormat. The corners of his mouth were frowned downward, and his dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone