Chapter Three
Jaime woke up the next morning with a smile on her face. Sam had stayed until almost 3am, and while their first kiss had been gentle and hesitant, the intensity had built rapidly until Jaime was sitting on the edge of the bed, completely enveloped in his arms and feeling their kisses in the deepest recesses of her soul.
She also felt a crushing sense of guilt. In his own hospital bed one door down, because he had jeopardized his own health taking care of her, was Steve. She loved him so much, for longer than she could even remember, but she had never felt the way Sam made her feel. She wasn't even sure what the attraction was: passion, new-ness or a sense of the forbidden. She desperately didn't want to hurt Steve, but how could she even face him, when part of her was longing for another man's touch? Jaime wasn't a cheater; never had been. She didn't have the slightest clue how to handle this.
"Good Morning, Beautiful!" Sam, on the other hand, knew exactly how he wanted to handle it. He swept Jaime out of the bed and into his arms, kissing her long and hard. Her resolve melted to nothing as she grew limp and malleable in response.
"You're standing," he told her when they surfaced for air.
"You must be good luck." Jaime moved closer and let passion take the reins. They were so wrapped up in each other they didn't notice the door opening. Oscar poked his head in and right back out again, closing the door silently.
Oscar turned to Steve, who was right behind him. "Still asleep; we can come back later." Steve returned to his room and Oscar headed down the hall to Rudy's office.
"Good morning!" Rudy said brightly. "Coffee?"
Oscar ignored the question and pulled a chair up to his friend's desk. "Tell me everything you know about Sam Argus."
Rudy raised an eyebrow but asked no questions. "Well, he was top of his class at Harvard, interned at Bellevue and started his own private hospital about five years ago. One of the very best in the business. Why?"
"What's going on with him and Jaime?"
"I'd like to know that, too." Steve stood just inside the office door, his face a mixture of pain and confusion.
"You went in there anyway..." Oscar guessed.
"In where? I'm talking about yesterday, right after he saved her. What are you talking about?" Truth hit him like a physical blow direct to the heart. "Oh no..." He felt a near-compulsion to charge back down the hall and give Sam a little pain of his own, but sat down instead, gripping the arms of the chair as if to anchor himself there.
Steve looked at Oscar. "She wasn't asleep this morning, was she?" Oscar couldn't answer. "How bad was it?" Oscar stared mutely at the floor. "Dammit - don't you think I have the right to know?"
"You definitely need to talk to her, Pal."
"That tells me nothing." Steve's voice lowered to a choking whisper, but he had to find out. "Was he in her bed?"
"No."
"Were the both still dressed? C'mon, Oscar - please! How bad was it?"
I'm sorry, Jaime, Oscar thought silently, but he does have a right..."It was about as bad as it could get with both of them still fully clothed. I'm sorry, Pal. I could go down there now and throw him out so you can talk to her..."
"I can't see her right now. Rudy, am I discharged yet? I'd really like to go home."
"Yes, that's fine. I'll need to see you tomorrow for a check-up."
"Thank you."
When Steve was gone, Oscar turned to Rudy. "Could I borrow your secretary for an hour or so?"
"Of course; I'll find her and send her in." Oscar nodded his thanks.
The secretary arrived with a steno pad in her hand. "Nothing to dictate," he told her. "I need you to make some phone calls for me. Call the alumni committee at Harvard, personnel at Bellevue and the birth certificates desk at Public Records. Use my name, and tell them I want any and all information they have on Sam Argus. When they call back, page me. I'll be in room four."
"Yes, Sir."
"Thank you."
When Oscar reached Jaime's room, the door was open and she was alone, standing by the window. Oscar closed the door.
"Where's Steve?" Jaime asked him.
"What?" That was one thing he hadn't expected to hear.
"I just went down to see him, and he's gone. All his stuff is gone, too."
"He went home."
"Well, why didn't he -"
"Why don't you get back in bed, where you're supposed to be anyway, and we'll talk."
Jaime complied, and looked at him quizzically. "Your face is awfully grim. You're scaring me, Oscar. What -"
"He knows, Jaime," Oscar told her gently. "Steve knows about you and Sam."
"Oh my God...No...How?"
"We...walked in on you this morning. It looked pretty serious. Is it?"
"No! Maybe...I don't know. Oscar, I'm just so confused!"
Oscar had walked into the room furious, but the tears streaming down her face confused the issue for him, too.
"I've gotta talk to Steve -"
"He's in no shape for that right now, Babe." Oscar looked closely at her face, trying to read what was going on in her head. "Jaime, what does your heart say? Who do you honestly want to be with?"
"Sam is an amazing man, and he makes me feel so alive. But Steve...he's been a part of my life for so long. He's a part of me. God, I never meant to hurt him. Things just happened so fast, before I even had a chance to think it all over, and it got so intense...But Steve - knowing I hurt him...it breaks my heart, Oscar. I love him so much. How do I fix this? Is it even possible?"
Oscar's pager began to buzz urgently. He reached out and grasped Jaime's hand. "Give Steve a little time, Babe. He just might surprise you."
"Thanks, Oscar." She smiled at him through the torrent of tears. "Now go answer your phone."
