EPISODE TWO

Episode two

(Desires)

"Mr Smith glanced up to see a doctor. He stood. "No, i'm smith Rutledge."

"Sorry . I must have been confused. I thought the patient's last name was smith. Are you her husband?"

"Her last name is smith, and i'm not her husband. Just....an acquaintance."

"Ah, of course. You're smith Rutledge of smith crop, the computer company. Sorry i didn't recognise you at first, Mr.rutledge,"the doctor said. He was obviously more impressed with Smith's hospital donations than the nurse.

"How is Ms. Smith doing?"

"Dazed, confused. The cut on her forehead isn't serious. I've closed it with a butterfly, but she may have a concussion, and she injured her wirst. We're waiting for a report from X-ray now. From what Ms.smith told me, i gather that she'd skipped a couple of meals. I suspect her blood sugar dropped, and she fainted. We're doing tests, but I'm sure that she's going to be fine.

"She's awake then? May i see her?"

"Not just yet, Mr.rutledge. The nurse wiil keep you posted. Would you like some coffee while you wait?"

Smith shook his head and took up pacing again.

Another hour passed before the nurse appeared.

"We're having problems with Ms.smith. The doctors orders call for her to stay overnight, but she insists on leaving.wants her Rv , she says. Says she doesn't have insurance and can't afford to pay for what we've done already. Mr. Rutulegde, she shouldn't leave. She's groggy from pain meds and has an iv going and a cast on her arm. She can't drive, for goodness's sakes. Can you do something with her?"

Smith stood. "I can try"

The woman he found in the room was a far cry from the one the nurse described. This one had a bandage on her forehead, a cast on her arm from knckles to elbow, and the iv was intact. Her face pale against the white pillow, her eyelids brushed with haggard blue, she was sleeping like a baby. Something about her total vulnerability as she lay on that sterile gurney struck a responsive chord in him. He felt a powerful protective streak stir inside his chest, and when he heard what was going on, fury flashed over him.

Another woman with a clipboard stood beside the bed shaking her. Ms.smith , Ms.smith, i need to know the name of your insurance company. What is your address? Who is your next of kin? Ms.smith?

"Leave her alone," smith said sharply.

"But i have to find out who's responsible for her bill, sir"

"I am." He took a business card from his pocket and thrust it at her. "Send her bill to my office. Now get out of here."

The woman stiffened and clutched her clipboard to her ample bossom. "Sir, i'm just doing my job.

Smith raked his hands over his face. "Of course. Excuse us, please

He stood there and stared down at the sleeping woman for the longest time, fighting hisbown impluse to shake her awake. He had plenty of Qusetions of his own. But now wasn't the time to ask them.

"I guess the dermerol finally kicked in," the nurse said.

"We'll be moving her to a private room in a few minutes."

"Put her in a suite," smith said.

"But please, i don't have the authority to-"

Smith handed another of his business cards to the nurse. "Call the hospital administrator, please. Tell him that i would like to speak with him immediately."

If Jessica smith was staying overnight, so was he. He wasn't about to let her out of his sight untiil he had some answers.

Shortly after smith spoke with administrator, jessica was moved to a well-appointed suite reserved for VIPs. She sleptthrough the entire process.

Hoping that she would awaken soon and he could ask about the photographs, smith Sat in a recliner next to her bed, watching and waiting.

She slept on.

By midnight, he was familiar with every attribute of her face, down to the tiny freckle just beneath her left eyebrow. She was an attractive woman with strong features: high checkbones, full lips and a hint of a cleft in her chin- though hers was not nearly as deep as his.

Once, when she'd gown restless, he'd stroked wispy ringlets away her temples, held her hand and murmured soothing sounds. It had seemed the most natural thing in the world for him to do. Her right hand, the uninjured one, still grasped his thumb like a lifeline.

Her nails were short and shaped, with no polish on them. He checked again for rings. She wore none. In fact, she wore no jewellery of any kind -though he did notice that her ears were pierced-two holes in each lobe. It was a cheap brand available from most discount stores.

Earlier, he'd even searched the clothes she'd wearing, hoping something in her pockets might reaveal more information. All he'd found was half a rollof antacids and seventy-two cents in change. He did discover that the designer-brand shorts were size eight, the white tank top a medium, and her cotton bra was a 34C. He was polite enough not to examine her panties closely, expect to note that they were plain and utilitarian. Her well-worn white sneakers were size seven.

The skirt,a frayed blue chambray, was a sixteen and a half/thirty six more his sizs than hers. Smith wondered about the man who'd been the shirts original owner, but there were no laundry markings to give him a clue.

About two thirty in the morning, jessica grew restless, and she thrashed about and whimpered in her sleep. The sound cut him to the quick.

"Shh? He whispered, stroking back the damp ringlets. "Rest easy"

Her eyes fluttered open, and when she saw him, she smiled. "Tom you 're here," she said, her words slurred. "You must be an angel."

She squeezeed his hand and fell back to asleep.

Her head hurt. Snd she'd had the strangest dream. Squinting against the sunlight flooding her room, jessica forced open her eyes and looked around. Everything seemed so white. She felt confused as she tired to figure out where she was.