“What’s the total?” he asked the clerk, anxious to be on his way. By now, the cursed dog had probably peed all over his carpet, he thought crossly.
“Seven ninety-eight,” the clerk replied, and settled back into his former position, the boredom returning to his plain face.
Andrew slapped a five and three ones on the counter and grabbed the dog food, not bothering to wait for his two cents change. “You get the snacks,” he said, turning toward Nicole. “We’ll—”
The words broke off in a startled grunt when his right foot came down on something slick, then shot out from beneath him. Caught off guard, he flailed for balance, then fell. His head smacked hard against the metal lower shelf of the still overturned pastry rack.
He saw stars. And then saw an angel in the center of them. He blinked Nicole’s worried face into focus, realizing that she was kneeling beside him.
“You’re bleeding!” she exclaimed, touching his forehead. “Oh, Andrew, it’s a nasty cut. It will probably need stitches.”
Someone had crawled into his skull and was apparently doing some mining, complete with explosives and jackhammers. He lifted an unsteady hand to his forehead in a vague attempt to keep his aching head from falling off. His glasses were missing, he noted.
“What the hell happened?” he asked, his voice sounding a bit slurred to his own ears.
“You slipped on a Twinkle.”
“Heel.”
“You okay, man?” the clerk asked, leaning over the counter. “I only work here, so if you’re going to sue, it’ll have to be the owner.”
“I just want to get out of here,” Andrew muttered, groping for a support. He found his glasses, folded them and stuck them into his pocket. A trickle of blood rolled down the left side of his face; he smeared it with the back of his hand as he tried to get up.
Nicole caught his outstretched hand and helped him to his feet, steadying him when he swayed a bit. “Maybe we should call an ambulance,” she fretted.
“No ambulance. Let’s just go.” Gritting his teeth against the pain in his head, he headed for the door, then paused and turned to snatch the dog food off the floor.
Still carrying the candy bars and soda cans, Nicole hurried after him. “I’d better drive this time.”
It was a measure of his discomfort that he didn’t bother to argue with her.
NICKY WAS ELECTED to drive again forty minutes later when she and Andrew left the emergency room of the hospital. Andrew sported a white bandage over his left eyebrow; fortunately, the cut hadn’t required stitches, and there had been no evidence of a concussion.
Andrew had taken the treatment stoically, though it was obvious that he hadn’t enjoyed waiting in a large room filled mostly with a motley crowd of patients suffering from an excess of holiday celebration.
The stray dog greeted them enthusiastically when they climbed back into the Range Rover. Nicky had walked it while Andrew was being treated, so it hadn’t soiled the interior of the vehicle, though the pungent, dirty dog smell was particularly strong now. From the corner of her eye, she saw Andrew wrinkle his nose as he slid carefully into the passenger seat.
“Are you all right?” she asked him before starting the engine.
He nodded, then put a hand to his head as if the motion had caused him discomfort. “Fine,” he muttered. “Just dandy. What are we going to do about this dog?”
“My uncle will take her. He loves animals. His old dog died a few months ago, and he hasn’t gotten another yet.”
“It’s after 3:00 a.m. He won’t be happy with you bringing him a stray at this hour.”
“Oh, he won’t mind. Uncle Timbo doesn’t sleep.”
“You mean, he sleeps days?”
“No. I mean he doesn’t sleep. Not for more than a couple of hours at a time, anyway. He’s a little...well, eccentric.”
Andrew leaned his head back against the support and closed his eyes. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he murmured.
Nicky bit her lower lip. She’d wanted Andrew to meet the real Nicole Holiday this evening; she just hadn’t expected the introductions to go quite like this. It would be a wonder if he ever wanted to see her again once the dog was delivered and he’d seen her to her motel.
She found that realization more than a little depressing. Unfortunately she was becoming more fascinated by the minute by Andrew Colton Tyler III. He was much more than a pretty face and great body, she’d discovered. And while his money and power didn’t particularly impress her, his quiet competence did.
He seemed to handle even the most startling development with equanimity, reacting in the most logical and efficient manner. Just look at the way he’d handled the twerp at the convenience store.