The Champagne Sisterhood Page 2

  She thought he sounded a little shaky and wondered if he was making the same effort to sound under control that she was. “Of course, I remember you. Scotch, neat, and you balance a mean lampshade. What has you calling at seven in the morning? Or are you in New York?” New York. Maybe that was it. He was in New York. But that wouldn’t be considered urgent. Or was he so arrogant he thought she’d consider his visiting New York an urgent matter?

  “It’s not good news. I had a flat tire this morning. Easy enough to change but I was already running late and the tire only made it worse. I needed to let Tom know he might have to take over for me at a company meeting scheduled for first thing this morning. Since I knew he wouldn’t have had time to get to work yet, I called him on his cell.”

  Anna took another deep breath, wishing he’d skip the details and get to the point.

  “A Burlingame police officer answered.”

  Every ounce of oxygen she’d breathed in whooshed out in a dizzying rush.

  “All he would tell me is there’d been an accident and the victims were being flown to San Francisco Memorial.”

  Victims? Flown? Anna’s fingers tightened their grip on the phone. For a short instant she’d felt a guilty relief that Tom was the one in trouble and Babs would merely be in need of emotional support. Just as quickly, relief transformed itself into anguish at the thought of Babs losing Tom and the baby. It would kill her. “He wasn’t alone?”

  “No. I called San Francisco Memorial. All they would tell me was that Mrs. Barbara Preston was in surgery.”

  Anna didn’t hear another word. The chair seemed to wobble beneath her, threatening to slip out from under her with the rest of her world. Her heart and lungs had stopped, and her mind had gone blank except for one thought. Babs was hurt. Badly. “I’m on my way.”

  “I thought you’d want to know. I don’t know how to reach--”

  “I’ll call them,” she interrupted. “I should be on the next flight. See you there.” Without waiting for a response Anna hung up the phone, opened her desk drawer, grabbed her oversized pocketbook, stuffed the framed photo inside and pushed away from the desk with such force, the chair flew back and crashed into the wall. Shoving her office door open with a bang, she turned to Liz without stopping. “Walk with me.”

  “I’m still on hold.”

  “They can go to hell. Call old man Peterson. Tell him I’ve got a family emergency. Let his precious Junior figure out this mess.” If she didn’t get the right designs, have them up to Nobel standards, and in store by the debut date, her name would be mud. If anything happened to Babs and she wasn’t there to help, her name wouldn’t mean a damn thing to her anyway.

  She was nearly to the elevator when she realized Liz was scurrying to keep up, a small bottle of antacids in hand. “Book me a one-way ticket to San Francisco.”

  “Coach or business?”

  “You can put me on the damn wing if you want. Just make sure when that plane takes off, I’m on it.” She dropped the pills into her pocketbook and stabbed impatiently at the elevator buttons. “Arrange for a car at the airport- no, wait, an SUV. I’ll have my cell phone. If I’m able to work from San Francisco, I’ll notify you what to send me.”

  Liz was hurriedly taking notes. “Shall I notify anyone else?”

  “You’d better warn all the buyers. If this turns out to be as bad as I think it is, God help us, Junior will be in charge.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Where to?” the driver asked, watching Anna in the rear view mirror.

  Good question. Did she have time to run home and get a bag?

  “Lady?”

  “Sorry. Fifty-sixth and Park.” She’d grab some toiletries, a couple days worth of underwear, one pair of slacks a few shirts, and... who the hell cares! “Never mind, take me to Kennedy airport.”

  Reaching into her bag, the phone buzzed just as her shaky fingers wrapped around it.

  “Yes.”

  “I booked you on a Delta flight out of Kennedy at twelve-forty-two and a United Flight at eleven-forty in case you make good time. There’s an American flight that leaves in an hour and five minutes, but I didn’t think even you could pull that off,” Liz explained quickly.

  “I’ll make it. I’m already on my way.” She’d flown to San Francisco enough times to at least know that all the non-stop flights to the coast left out of Kennedy and not LaGuardia.

  “Also, Kat Valdez called a few minutes ago. I told her you were on your way to San Francisco.”

  “I was just about to call her. Thanks.”

  Liz had been Anna’s assistant for almost four years, working with her as she trudged her way up through the ranks. The woman not only slaved by her side until the wee hours of the morning, but she managed to do it cheerfully. Anna didn’t think she’d have survived the fire on the Atlantic with her sanity intact if Liz hadn’t been there to keep her grounded. Well, she probably would have managed it, but she surely would have killed someone along the way. At least she was comforted by the thought that if she had, Liz would have helped her bury the body.

  Amazed her unsteady fingers hadn’t pressed all the wrong numbers, Anna listened impatiently to the endless ringing on the other end of the line. “Come on, Kat.”

  “Hello,” Kat answered, huffing.

  “All I know is there was an accident. She’s in surgery.” Anna didn’t bother with the trivial niceties, there was no need.

  “Erin called this morning with one of those feelings. When Liz told me you were on your way to Frisco, I knew it had to be bad. I’m almost done packing. Had to run to answer the phone. I should do a commercial for American Express. The next flight out of Miami isn’t until one o’clock though. Which hospital is she at?” Kat rambled on a single breath.

  “Memorial.”

  “What about Tom?”

  “I don’t know. When Mark called--”

  “Mark?” Kat interrupted.

  Anna nodded as though Kat were sitting beside her. “Tom’s friend. Best man at the wedding. Marcia’s godfather. Remember?”

  “Oh, yeah. Tall, six foot something, chestnut brown hair and dreamy eyes. The guy could pass for Tom’s really good-looking brother.”

  “That’s him. He tried calling Tom this morning and a local cop answered Tom’s cell. The only info the officer had was that the victims were being care-flighted to Memorial Hospital. Then when Mark got a hold of the hospital, they’d only tell him that Babs was in surgery.”

  “What about the baby?”

  “I didn’t ask. What day does the housekeeper come? Maybe she’s home with the baby?” Anna smacked the seat beside her. “Damn. I should have thought to call. Some godmother I am.”

  “You’re a great godmother,” Kat reassured her. “You just haven’t had enough time to get into the swing of things yet, so to speak. Besides, between the three of us, once we have a little practice under our belts Babs will be after us for spoiling the kid rotten.”

  Any other time and Anna knew Kat would have been laughing at that thought. Now her long-time friend barely managed to let out a small sigh.

  “As for the housekeeper,” Kat continued, “she either comes Tuesday or Thursday. I think. Maybe. I don’t know.” This time Kat’s voice trembled slightly, revealing how unnerved she really felt. “Why was Babs with Tom anyhow?”

  Anna hadn’t thought of that. In her shock she never wondered why Babs was driving with Tom so early in the morning. “You don’t suppose there’s a mistake and someone else was with Tom? That it’s not Babs at all in the hospital?”

  “You’re kidding? I don’t want her to be hurt either, hon, but the odds of Tom being in a car with another woman first thing in the morning are about the same as my winning the Irish sweepstakes, which I don’t play.”

  “I know. I know.” Anna let her head fall back against the seat. She’d been running on adrenaline and the reality of the moment slammed into her hard. “I’ll call the house and see if the housekeeper is there with Marcia.
Then I’ll call Erin.”

  “No need. I’ve already left Erin a voice message. Told her I called your office and needed her to call me ASAP. I didn’t want to tell her over voice mail. Especially since I had so little info.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I rented a car. At least I think I did. Liz didn’t mention it, but she’s never let me down yet.”

  “That woman is a jewel. If I could clone her into a man, I’d marry him.”

  “If she could be cloned into a man, I’d have first dibs.” Anna almost felt like chuckling.

  “I don’t think Harrison would take to that idea.”

  “Oh, shit. I forgot about him, and we’ve got that stupid reception tonight at MoMA.” Normally she loved the swank parties and trendy gala openings, but since Harrison set his sights on political office, she could no longer simply enjoy herself. Now it was all about working the room to secure campaign donations. “I’d better call him sooner than later. And we’re here.” The cab stopped in front of the terminal. Anna pulled several bills out of her wallet and practically threw them at the driver before bolting out of the car. “Gotta go. I’ll arrange for someone to pick you up.”

  “Don’t worry about me. You call Harrison. I’ll call the housekeeper.”

  “Deal.” Anna switched off the phone and came to a screeching halt at the long line winding in front of the ticket counter. “Okay, Liz, let’s see if you still got it.” Swiping her credit card at the freestanding kiosk, Anna held her breath. “Yes!” She punched the no baggage to check icon and the machine spit out her boarding pass. Business Class.

  Driver’s license and boarding pass in hand, she ran to the security checkpoint. With a single touch, she hit number seven to speed dial Harrison Edwards’ private line. “Hey.”

  “Hello to you, too.”

  She ignored the small sigh that seeped through the phone line. She was in no mood to worry about her lack of proper phone etiquette.

  “I’ve only got a minute. I’m on my way to San Francisco.”

  “San Francisco! What for?”

  “Babs.” Anna took off her shoes and tossed them in the gray basket beside her pocketbook. “She’s been in an accident. She’s in surgery. I have to go.”

  “No, you do not have to go. She has a husband, other friends. You know how important tonight is.”

  She took another step closer to the metal detectors, glanced at her watch and blew out a breath. “You can handle it without me. No one will fault you because your girlfriend ran off to be with a friend in need.”

  “It doesn’t work that way and you know it. Appearances are everything and if I plan on--”

  “My turn. I have to sign off. I’ll call you as soon as I know something.” Disconnecting the call she tossed the phone on top of her shoes and pushed the basket into the x-ray machine. She didn’t want to have this argument now. Just because Harrison Edwards III decided that politics could be fun didn’t mean Anna had to drop everything and run every time he whistled. It was all Bill Clinton’s fault. If the man hadn’t been so damn popular with the Hollywood crowd, Harrison would never have gotten the political bee in his bonnet. Or would that be fedora?

  It didn’t matter. Hopefully he’d get over his snit before she got to San Francisco. As she watched her belongings slowly roll off the belt, she reached for her bag, then her shoes. She probably should have brought her laptop, but all she could think of was getting out of that office and onto a plane. Within seconds she was on the phone again, rushing to the gate. “Liz.”

  “Did you make it?”

  “Almost at the gate with--” She glanced down at her watch. “Fifteen minutes to spare. Thanks.”

  “When you said you’d make the first flight I went ahead and paid for the reservation.”

  “Good move. There’s no way in hell I’d have made it if I had to stand in line at the counter and buy the ticket.” Anna handed her boarding pass to the airline employee at the doorway and felt her shoulders relax for the first time in over an hour.

  “I’ve notified the buyers,” Liz explained. “They all said for you to take care of yourself, not to worry about them, and Bruno went so far as to add he’ll hold the twit at bay till you get back.”

  There was little doubt in Anna’s mind that Bruno’s comment had Liz grinning from ear to ear. Anna almost felt sorry for the twit. Junior was about as well liked as the bubonic plague.

  “I left word with Mr. Peterson Senior that you’ve been called away from the office today on a family emergency. I sort of neglected to mention it was in San Francisco.”

  “Liz,” Anna chastised, sliding into her seat.

  “If Dolly Parton and Jane Fonda can do it.”

  “That was a movie. It’s not the same thing and you know it.” A gurgle of laughter rose up at the vision of Liz in the Dolly Parton role lassoing and hog-tying Junior Peterson. “But it might work for a few days if Babs isn’t as bad as Mark made it sound.”

  “I put the manifests from logistics in your briefcase, along with the original requisitions you had on your desk. Actually, pretty much everything on your desk related to this last order is in a box on its way to San Francisco with your laptop. You should have it by tomorrow morning.”

  “You’re a lifesaver, Liz. Kat’s right. If you were a man we’d marry you.”

  “Thanks- I think.” Liz hesitated before speaking again. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

  “I hope so.” God, I hope so.

  “Babs isn’t answering her phone. Please tell me another of Anna’s ships sank.” Erin said in a rush, not bothering to say hello.

  “’Fraid not. It’s Babs. She’s been in a car accident. Anna’s already on her way to Frisco. My flight leaves in a couple of hours.”

  “How bad?” Erin stopped shuffling the stacks of test papers she’d been alphabetizing.

  “We don’t know. All we know is when Tom’s friend Mark called this morning, she was in surgery.”

  Tears quickly blurred Erin’s vision. “It’s bad. I can feel it. I... I don’t think she’s going to make it.”

  “Don’t say that. It could be like in the movies. They’re resetting some bone and taking her spleen. Everyone always loses a spleen in the movies.” Kat’s words caught in her throat. “No one dies from losing a spleen.”

  “Actually, losing a spleen is a pretty serious thing.” Erin fumbled in her desk, searching for that box of tissues she’d finally remembered to buy.

  “It can’t be any worse than a ruptured appendix. People die from that too, but not Babs.”

  “No. Not Babs.” The tissues were on the bookshelf across the room. Erin’s limbs suddenly felt as heavy as tree stumps. Blinking to slow the tears now streaming down her face, she settled for an old napkin left on her desk from yesterday’s lunch. “I’m coming too. It may take me a while. I’m maxed out on my cards. I’ll have to get Mom and Dad to help.”

  “You should wait till we have more news. It really might not be all that bad.” Kat’s ever-optimistic tone was back with a vengeance. “After all, Mark said up front no one at the hospital had told him anything other than Mrs. Preston was in surgery. Heck, Anna even had the crazy idea that it wasn’t Babs in the car with him at all.”

  “He wouldn’t dare. Babs would kill him if he ever got caught with another woman.”

  “No. She’d torture him. Slowly. Probably pull out every single hair from his body, one by one.”

  “With tweezers,” Erin added. “And you know where she’d start, too.” That thought made her smile. Nothing got past Babs. Outside she was sweet enough to have been a Magnolia Belle, but on the inside she was one tough cookie. She was born to be a wife and mother. All soft and loving, she reminded you of Mrs. Cleaver and Carol Brady all wrapped up into one with a Marine drill sergeant lurking underneath. She was whatever you needed her to be. It wasn’t any wonder Tom adored her so.

  “Are you still with me?” Kat asked cautiously.

  “Yeah. Just thinking.”

  “Yea
h. I know. One of us will call as soon as we hear anything new.”

  “Okay, thanks. I’ll let you know as soon as I can book a flight.”

  “Don’t rush. Anna and I can hold the fort till you get there.”

  Erin swallowed a chuckle. “Why do I have visions of Sherman’s march to Savannah with Anna holding the torch and the poor nurses running for their lives?”

  “Cause, oh sighted-one, you’re our little Taisch.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Men don’t cry. Damn stupid rule. Mark Lambert searched the arrivals information. Baggage claim C14. She’d be here any minute. Probably only had a carryon. Upstairs would be a better place to intercept her.

  Hurry up and wait had been his mantra today. He’d spent the better part of the day waiting, pacing the halls of the hospital, and of course leaving messages on voice mails. How could no one be able to tell him anything? He’d been passed off from the nursing staff to the resident on duty, to the patient advocate, to risk management and had left three voice mails with his attorney along the way. Everyone had been polite and patient, but no one could give him what he wanted. He couldn’t even find out what they’d done with Marcia.

  When he drove by the scene of the accident before going to the hospital, he’d nearly lost his breakfast. Barb’s car looked nothing like a luxury sedan and very much like a junkyard version of modern art. One of those absurd sculptures that every highbrow art lover thinks is insightful and moving, and anyone with taste thinks is pure trash. Except three people he loved like family had been trapped inside this piece of trash. Men don’t cry.

  As he’d done ten times in the last hour, he swiped his phone and dialed the fifth floor nurses’ station. “I’m calling about Mrs. Barbara Preston.”

  “Mr. Lambert?”

  “Yes.” By now every nurse on duty probably recognized his voice.

  “She’s out of surgery. She’s been moved to ICU.”

  “Thank God. Then she’s going to be okay?”

  “I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to disclose a patient’s status over the phone.”