hadn’t asked him to quit being a lawyer, just to make room in his life for something else, for all the things he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. He wanted to take long walks with her, spend lazy Sundays reading the paper and watching it rain. Where would the time for that come from when he put in sixty-five hours a week at least?
Suddenly red lights flared in front of him. The tractor trailer was skidding to a stop. Riley slammed on his brakes, but something on the road—a slick, shiny substance that might have been oil—caught his tires and sent his car careening into the next lane. He swerved, heading for the gravel shoulder while another car catapulted past him and screeched to a halt. He breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t hit anything, just before brilliant headlights flared in his rearview mirror.
Chapter Thirteen
“Six weeks is a long time,” Tyler Brady steepled his hands in front of him and let out a long sigh, that sounded to Riley very much like a tire deflating. Unfortunately, the tire was a metaphor for his career.
“I’m really sorry. I can do a lot of my work remotely…and maybe if Brenda can—”
Tyler waved a hand. “Nonsense. If you’re laid up for six weeks with your leg, then you should be resting. We’ve got things covered at the office. I won’t pretend you won’t be missed, but we’ll muddle through somehow.” His last words were delivered with a wry smile and a self-deprecating laugh.
Meant to be reassuring, Tyler’s comments only deepened Riley’s unrest. He’d never felt more like a fool, lying in the hospital with a ridiculously large cast holding his right knee in place. Had the injury come from the near miss he’d had on the drive home from Kattinger Farms on the weekend, he might not have felt so bad, but no—the oil slick that had resulted in a three car pileup had left him unscathed. It was only after he’d gotten out of the car to check on the drivers of the other vehicles and ended up tumbling backwards down the gravel covered embankment, that he’d sustained his broken leg. And of course, it wasn’t the kind of break that would heal while he hobbled around on crutches. His doctors expected him to remain largely immobile for a month and a half to avoid spending the rest of his life walking with a limp. He’d have gladly chanced it, if Tyler had given him the slightest hint that EBD couldn’t function at peak efficiency without him.
“I’m serious, if you need me to do anything at all, my laptop will fit right on this tray.” Riley pulled the rolling bed tray a few inches closer to his chest. It made for a barely adequate desk, but he’d make do.
Tyler rose, his expression still sympathetic. “Enjoy the rest. In a few months, once you’ve got the bar behind you, you’ll be lucky if you get a bathroom break. Consider this all your vacations for the next six years rolled into one.” The older man paused for effect then broke out laughing again. “I’m kidding. We’ll call you if we need you, otherwise, catch up on your reading and get hooked on reality TV.”
“Thanks,” Riley said, not even bothering to sound the least bit enthusiastic.
“I’ll check in with you, and don’t forget to call Dani Lennox so she can keep on top of all your insurance paperwork.”
“Right, I will.”
Tyler let himself out of the room, and Riley settled back against the mountain of pillows that helped prop him up in a comfortable position.
He wondered what Lydia would say about his predicament and glanced at the drawer next to his bed where his cell phone now lay, currently deactivated. He desperately wanted to call her, but what could he say? Now that I’ve got all this time on my hands, I want to be with you? That was romantic. She’d never believe he’d only had her on his mind in those few seconds when he thought a semi was going to crush his car. She’d never understand how much he wanted to be what she needed, not just for her
Suddenly red lights flared in front of him. The tractor trailer was skidding to a stop. Riley slammed on his brakes, but something on the road—a slick, shiny substance that might have been oil—caught his tires and sent his car careening into the next lane. He swerved, heading for the gravel shoulder while another car catapulted past him and screeched to a halt. He breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t hit anything, just before brilliant headlights flared in his rearview mirror.
Chapter Thirteen
“Six weeks is a long time,” Tyler Brady steepled his hands in front of him and let out a long sigh, that sounded to Riley very much like a tire deflating. Unfortunately, the tire was a metaphor for his career.
“I’m really sorry. I can do a lot of my work remotely…and maybe if Brenda can—”
Tyler waved a hand. “Nonsense. If you’re laid up for six weeks with your leg, then you should be resting. We’ve got things covered at the office. I won’t pretend you won’t be missed, but we’ll muddle through somehow.” His last words were delivered with a wry smile and a self-deprecating laugh.
Meant to be reassuring, Tyler’s comments only deepened Riley’s unrest. He’d never felt more like a fool, lying in the hospital with a ridiculously large cast holding his right knee in place. Had the injury come from the near miss he’d had on the drive home from Kattinger Farms on the weekend, he might not have felt so bad, but no—the oil slick that had resulted in a three car pileup had left him unscathed. It was only after he’d gotten out of the car to check on the drivers of the other vehicles and ended up tumbling backwards down the gravel covered embankment, that he’d sustained his broken leg. And of course, it wasn’t the kind of break that would heal while he hobbled around on crutches. His doctors expected him to remain largely immobile for a month and a half to avoid spending the rest of his life walking with a limp. He’d have gladly chanced it, if Tyler had given him the slightest hint that EBD couldn’t function at peak efficiency without him.
“I’m serious, if you need me to do anything at all, my laptop will fit right on this tray.” Riley pulled the rolling bed tray a few inches closer to his chest. It made for a barely adequate desk, but he’d make do.
Tyler rose, his expression still sympathetic. “Enjoy the rest. In a few months, once you’ve got the bar behind you, you’ll be lucky if you get a bathroom break. Consider this all your vacations for the next six years rolled into one.” The older man paused for effect then broke out laughing again. “I’m kidding. We’ll call you if we need you, otherwise, catch up on your reading and get hooked on reality TV.”
“Thanks,” Riley said, not even bothering to sound the least bit enthusiastic.
“I’ll check in with you, and don’t forget to call Dani Lennox so she can keep on top of all your insurance paperwork.”
“Right, I will.”
Tyler let himself out of the room, and Riley settled back against the mountain of pillows that helped prop him up in a comfortable position.
He wondered what Lydia would say about his predicament and glanced at the drawer next to his bed where his cell phone now lay, currently deactivated. He desperately wanted to call her, but what could he say? Now that I’ve got all this time on my hands, I want to be with you? That was romantic. She’d never believe he’d only had her on his mind in those few seconds when he thought a semi was going to crush his car. She’d never understand how much he wanted to be what she needed, not just for her
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