The Firefighter's Cinderella. Dominique Burton
sat up. “Yes?”
“We’ve arrived at the hospital.”
The doors opened. Just as Tasha had feared, cameras flashed and reporters rushed forward to get the scoop on the congressman’s daughter.
As she was being transported into the hospital, she cried, “I’ll get you for this, Powell!”
But he’d jumped out of the ambulance to shelter her from the reporters with those wide shoulders of his. “I’ll take care of the press and be up to see you in a few minutes.”
He winked at her before the gurney was rolled through the entrance to the hospital.
“DARLIN’, YOUR FATHER AND I are worried about you,” Genevieve cooed in her Texas drawl. She sat on her daughter’s hospital bed in her tan trousers and white linen blouse. Both fit her lean figure to perfection.
“Mother, you heard the doctor. My blood work and vitals are all normal.” Tasha was determined to keep her voice low and cool. “I was dehydrated. It occasionally happens when you run a marathon.”
She leaned in to caress her daughter’s cheek, her bracelets clinking. “My, you’re such a beauty now.”
The emphasis on now stung every time Tasha heard it. How could a girl compete when her mother was beauty personified? Genevieve Bennington was a tall blonde with big blue eyes set in an oval face.
She could have been a model, and made sure to remind Tasha of that every chance she got. Instead, she’d chosen to be a wife and mother. Natasha often wondered why.
“Thank you, Hal.” George Bennington had finally decided to come in from the hall and talk to her. He closed his cell phone and put it in his trouser pocket.
Tasha knew Hal was her father’s private doctor. She wondered what her dad had in store for her.
She could see he’d been tanning again. His skin was too dark for the lifestyle he lived. George was a tall, handsome man in his early sixties with a full head of hair dyed chestnut-brown.
He had the hardened green eyes and the polished smile of a politician. He was known for being cruel in political races. Unfortunately, that was how she saw him, too.
“We’ve been told you’re healthy, but I don’t trust that doctor. I’d rather have Hal come check you out.”
Tasha leaned forward in her bed. “Dad, that’s ridiculous and you know it.”
He took a no-nonsense stance. “Now listen here. He’s going to fly up from Cedars Sinai in L.A., and is leaving now. This is not the time to argue.”
“As an adult I have the right to refuse his services. I’m in the best shape of my life. It was hot and I got dehydrated. End of story.” Tasha was doing her best not to scream.
“You were heavy for so many years,” her mother murmured. “I worry if that has any implications on your health now.”
“Unbelievable!” Tasha had to fight not to feel that old inferiority complex she’d wrestled with all her life. This was C.J.’s fault. Why had he phoned her parents? Very few people had their private number. He must have called Tim’s parents to get it.
Tim. If he were here, he would never have let this happen.
Tasha could feel her stomach tightening. The pain of his death was as real now as it had been at his funeral. Why did people say that time heals all wounds? Time hadn’t touched hers.
“Tasha, are you listening?” her father demanded.
Of course she was listening. All she did was listen to them belittle her. Life was better when she avoided them. If she’d had her way, they wouldn’t have found out what had happened until she’d gone back to her condo.
Unfortunately, she was stuck here in a hospital gown, at their mercy, while she tried to calm them down. “Mom and Dad, I’ve been given a clean bill of health. When this IV bag is empty, I’m leaving.”
“I’ve heard you have a reputation for being a bulldog in court, never giving an inch. But I can’t believe you’re being this way with your own parents,” her father said in his smooth, icy voice. “We’re trying to help you.”
“Help? You call this help? Coming in here and—”
C.J. knocked on the door, interrupting them. His blue eyes found hers as he walked into the room, and he gave her his “hero” smile.
She used to label his smiles back in the good old days, but until now she’d never thought about the way they affected the opposite sex. No wonder females fell under his spell. For her it was odd to be the focus of a man’s attention these days, especially this man.
“Congressman Bennington, am I intruding?”
“No. It’s good to see you, son.”
“Nice to see you too.” C.J.’s presence calmed the room. He shook her father’s hand, then glanced at Tasha again. It confused her and caused her heart to pound. For some strange, alarming reason her body came alive around him.
His eyes strayed to her mother for a moment. “Genevieve, you look stunning as usual.”
Tasha cast a glance at her mother and started laughing inside. She was eyeing C.J. the way she did all attractive men, but he didn’t seem to notice. For once someone was looking at the ugly daughter. Hah!
“It’s wonderful to see you, C.J.” Her mother sauntered over to him and hugged him, then kissed him on both cheeks. “When Gina McGinnis called and told us our Natasha was being rushed to the hospital, we were terrified.” She took a step back and put her hands on his large biceps. “The only bright spot is that Tim’s best friend saved our daughter. You’re a hero today.”
She paused, then asked, “Are you coming to the fundraiser ball tonight? I know the McGinnises are praying you’ll attend. They reserved a seat for you and a guest months ago, when the invitations went out.”
Tasha could see that her mom and Tim’s were as gaga over C.J. as the rest of the female population. How pathetic!
“Mom, I’m sure C.J. would rather do anything than go to a ball. I know for a fact he hates them.”
C.J.’s chest rumbled with laughter. “How do you know I hate them?” He looked at her curiously. “I don’t mind them if I have a beautiful date.”
He stepped away from her mom and moved closer to Tasha’s bed. “Since Richard’s out of town, I’m guessing he’s not taking you.”
“No,” Tasha squeaked. His close proximity and her exhaustion from the race seemed to be making her mind go fuzzy. All she wanted to do was go home and sleep.
C.J. looked at her parents. “How about I escort Natasha to the ball tonight? I’m a trained EMT. If I see any distress signs, I’ll make certain she’s taken straight home.” His mouth curved in a smile, but his eyes were tense, questioning.
“I’m not sure if she’s up for it tonight,” George stated as he walked around C.J. to come closer. “I won’t feel comfortable until my doctor comes and does a full evaluation of my little girl.”
Tasha stared at him as he were a stranger. Since when had he ever called her his little girl? Big, large, fat girl. Those were the words that came to mind. Little girl? Never. What had gotten into him?
In a contrary state of mind, she said, “Fine, C.J. I’ll go with you, but not as a date. We’ll go as friends, in memory of Tim. I’ll be by your place at seven. Oh—” she frowned “—do you still live at the same address?”
He nodded, but he didn’t look happy. When she glanced at her parents, she could see their dismay, as well.
How am I going to survive the night?
NATASHA PULLED UP to C.J.’s