GOBSMACKED! Chapter 4

Boris had talked with the police and made sure that Parks was on his way to jail; he now hurried through the remaining partygoers, who were oblivious to the evening's events involving Annabelle. One of his bodyguards opened the library door to allow him to enter, and he was relieved to see that Hank was already there, fussing over Annabelle, who was propped up on the couch, holding an ice pack to the back of her head.

"Hank. . .thank you so much for getting here so quickly!"

"Yeah. . .no problem, Boris. I was literally two streets away when you called."

"So. . .how is she, Hank?"

Hank shook his head. "Boris. . .HIPPA means absolutely nothing to you, does it?"

"Hrmph! Do not be tedious, Hank. I was there when Annabelle was injured!"

"Annabelle is sitting right here. . .and she can hear every word you both are saying!" Hank and Boris both turned and looked at her as if they had forgotten that she was in the room. With a rueful smile, she shook her head. "Hank, tell him what he wants to know. I don't mind."

"OK, but first. . .I'm going to numb your scalp before I stitch you up." Hank gently injected her scalp with novocaine, then he pulled Boris away so they could talk.

"I will ask you again, Hank; how is she?"

"Well, the short answer is. . .she's fine, Boris! I did give her a very mild sedative; she was really anxious when I got here. And I'll give her something for pain before she leaves. Her lip is split, but that will heal, and I'm going to put a couple of stitches in the back of her head. I do want to get an x-ray of her cheek; apparently, she had some reconstructive surgery on that cheek a few years ago, and she's concerned."

"Where will you do that, Hank?"

"Well, she can go to Hamptons Heritage, or I can have Divya do it at her house."

"Do it at her house, Hank. There will be less of a chance that it will end up on the front of 'Page Six'."

"I'll let Divya know."

"Hank, did you check her for a concussion?"

"Of course I did, Boris! I ran the protocols; I think she's clear. She didn't lose consciousness; that's a good sign. I'll check on her again tomorrow."

Annabelle had been quiet for several minutes. Her eyes were closed; everyone thought she had fallen asleep. Suddenly, she sat up, looked at her wrist, then looked around the room. "What time is it? My watch is gone! Has anyone seen my watch?"

Declan answered first. "It's almost midnight, Lovey. Do you need something?"

"Yes! I need my watch! And. . .bloody hell!" Annabelle was sitting up, frantically looking around. "I need my purse! Has anyone seen my purse? My bloody purse is gone!"

Annabelle saw Boris speaking quietly to one of the bodyguards who had been out on the patio with them earlier in the evening. When Boris finished speaking, the bodyguard nodded, and headed for the door, presumably to look for her wristwatch and purse.

Hank chose that moment to step forward with a small tray, which held various medical supplies. "Let me get those stitches in, Annabelle; then, you'll be all done!"

"Great! Then I can go home!"

All three men looked at Annabelle; Hank was the first one to speak. "Annabelle, I don't know how you're planning on getting home, but you can't drive! You have a head injury."

"Well. . .I'm not going to spend the night on Declan's couch!"

"Lovey. . .you certainly don't have to spend the night on the couch! You can have one of the guest rooms."

"And I appreciate that, Declan. . .but I didn't come here this evening planning on spending the night. I don't have anything with me. . .not even a clean pair of knickers or any of my medication." She could feel tears burning in her eyes. "Look, gentlemen. . .I'm exhausted. I appreciate your concern. . .but I just want to go home and sleep in my own bed. Please!" One of those tears escaped, slowly rolling down her cheek; she wiped at it with her hand.

"I am taking you home, Annabelle."

Annabelle shook her head and looked up at Boris, trying to read the expression on his face. "Boris, I can't ask you to do that!"

Boris tilted his head and looked at her intently, surprise playing around his eyes. He wasn't accustomed to people questioning his authority. "Annabelle. . .I am taking you home! It is the solution that make the most sense."

Annabelle met his stare, not looking away. "Boris. . .do people always bow to your considerable will?"

Again. . .surprise! "Well. . .yes! That is, if they know what is best for them!"

"What about my car?"

"One of my men will drive it."

Annabelle shook her head, smiled and threw her hands up. "Well then. . .if you insist. . .I surrender!"

Hank chose that moment to step behind Annabelle. "Don't even try to argue with him, Annabelle; you'll lose! Now. . .let's get those stitches in, so we can get you out of here! Tilt your head forward, Annabelle. . .and please, stay still!"

Hank worked quickly, and Annabelle – for the most part – remained stoic. The last stitch must have pulled more than the other ones; Annabelle let out an "Ouch", followed by a "Sorry!".

Hank chuckled as he gently put a bandage over the stitches. "Not a problem! You did good!"

"Thank you! Do I get a lollipop?"

"Sorry, Annabelle. I'm fresh out of lollipops!"

"Damn!"

"Here's my card, Annabelle. If you need ANYTHING. . .you call! And I'll stop by and check on you tomorrow."

Annabelle took the card, but, without her purse, she had no place to put it. She considered tucking it in to her cleavage, but decided against that idea. Declan would have found it amusing; Boris. . .she wasn't so sure! So she set it on the table in front of the couch. "Thank you, Hank . . for everything!"

"Yeah. . .no problem. See you tomorrow, Annabelle. Good night, everyone!" And with that, Hank picked up his medical bag and departed.

As Hank was on his way out, the bodyguard who had been looking for her purse and wristwatch was on his way in. He walked over to the couch where Annabelle was still sitting. "Here you are, Ms. Duffy – your purse and your wristwatch!"

"Ohhhhh. . .thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm so sorry; I don't know your name."

"It's Asher, Ma'am."

"Thank you, Asher. I really appreciate this!"

The bodyguard, embarrassed, smiled at Annabelle and said "You're welcome, Ma'am." And with that, he went back to his post by the library door.

Boris watched the exchange between Annabelle and his bodyguard, and a quick half-smile flashed across his face. Annabelle's evening had been frightening – and painful – but in spite of that, she had gone out of her way to thank the bodyguard and ask him his name. Boris had dated a LOT of women over the years, but he couldn't recall any of those women ever paying any attention to the bodyguards – unless they were needed to carry packages on a shopping excursion. Annabelle's gesture had been a small gesture, all things considered, but it spoke volumes. People rarely surprised Boris, but this green-eyed woman had just surprised the hell out of him!

"Annabelle. . .did you leave your car with the valet tonight?"

Annabelle nodded. "Yes, I did."

"What kind of car?"

"A red Jeep Grand Cherokee."

Boris turned and signaled to Asher, who then turned and left the library again. "Asher will have the cars brought around. Now. . .let's get you home!"