Page 34 of A Really Bad Idea

My attention is fixed on my sneakers. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“I’m asking you. Thought you’d enjoy it since you love Eloise at The Plaza so much. I’ll even reserve the pink, pink, pink hotel room for you.”

I had an Eloise book in my bag when we first met and was a fan until I was too old to admit. “That’s really sweet of you to think of me.”

“So, you’ll go?” His brows rise hopefully.

“Probably not.” I look back down at my feet. “You should ask one of your girls. That’s a night for romance. You should take a girl you want to dance with and drink champagne and eat caviar. At the end of the night, you can take her back to your room and peel the designer gown off her body and make love while you’re still drunk on bubbly. I’ll be a backup, but ask someone else first.”

I turn my attention back toward him, and he’s peculiarly looking at me.

“That is quite the night you have outlined in your head. I like the … what did you say?” His dimple rises with the quirk of his mouth. “Peeling off the dress part.”

I dip my fingers in the water and lightly splash him.

He holds his hands up and laughs as he says, “Fine. I’ll ask someone else, though I’d feel creepy, doing all that in a little girl’s pink hotel suite. And who said I needed a backup?”

I grin. “I forgot. You have some many women; you have backups for your backups.”

“How did our conversation veer this way?”

“You stalked me,” I say pointedly and with humor in my voice.

“That’s right. Because you were avoiding me.”

Again, I lie, “I wasn’t avoiding you!”

The sound of a wailing child interrupts our conversation. It’s not that a child crying should cause any reason for us to stop what we’re doing, but this cry differs from the usual. It’s sharp and loud and sent out like a siren.

There’s a little girl lying on the ground on the edge of the crowd of children playing with the bubbles. Her body is on its side as she holds her head up off the pavement. The angelic face of the girl is bright red, and as my eyes travel down her body, I can see her tiny arm is bent into an unnatural position. Her mother rushes to her side.

I stand up and jog over to the mother and child. I lay my hand on the mother’s shoulder, and then my eyes take in the break. “It looks like a fracture.”

The little girl is screaming. The pain is evident as the tears stream down her face.

The mother appears frantic. Her hands shake as her head spins around the crowded plaza. “I need an ambulance!”

Christian kneels and assesses the injury. His gaze meets mine, and we both know it’s a bad break that needs immediate treatment. He places a hand under the little girl’s head and helps her sit up.

“What are you doing?” the woman shrieks in concern.

“He’s a doctor,” I say to the woman. “And I’m a nurse.”

The little girl’s sobs are loud as snot bubbles appear in her nose. I reach into my bag and offer her mom a tissue to clean her daughter’s face.

The mother’s tone has now switched from concern at the two strangers who appeared out of nowhere to total focus on her child. “It’s okay, Annabelle. We’re gonna get you to the hospital.” She pulls out her cell phone.

Christian looks down at Annabelle. Her tight blonde ringlets stick to her face from a mixture of sweat and tears.

“It’s faster if we walk,” he says. His hand travels down Annabelle’s back and under her knees.

“Walk?” the mother asks, mortified.

His stern gaze hits the woman and morphs into a serious one. “If you call an ambulance, I can’t guarantee it’ll take you to St. Xavier where I can get her seen by the best orthopedics. If you go somewhere else, there’s no telling how long you’ll sit in the ER.”

The mother’s eyes are roaming back and forth between Christian and Annabelle, probably wondering if she should let this strange man walk with her child in his arms. “I’ll get a Lyft.”

“Terrace Drive is closed to traffic, so we’re gonna have to walk her out of the park anyway. St. Xavier is under a half-mile away. I’ll carry her.”