Underestimated (Underestimated, #1)

“Yes, there is one in your suite,” he smiled.

I sipped the warm tea, but really didn’t want it. I just wanted to lie down.

“Do you mind if I go there now? I’m a little tired.”

“Not at all, you rest, and I will have some food brought up to you when you wake up.”

“Thank you.”

I held the rail going up the stairs and Drew walked beside me, holding my arm. I wondered why he put me in a room upstairs. He knew that I had a broken pelvic.

When I got to the top of the stairs, I stopped. There were so many rooms, all with closed doors. Drew didn’t help me figure out which one I should go into.

“Do you mind helping me out here a little?” I asked. It came out sort of cold.

“You don’t remember which one is your room?”

I looked at him oddly. “My room? I thought that you moved my things in here after my accident.”

“I did, I was just trying to help your memory along.”

How was confusing me going to help me get my memory back?

He opened the door, and I looked around. That room did feel maybe a little familiar, but I wasn’t sure if it was a good feeling. I almost felt like I was going to have a panic attack being in there, but didn’t know why.

“I’ll leave you to rest. If you need anything, just pick up that phone and hit one. It goes right to my office”

Drew smiled.

“Thank you,” I smiled back.

I walked around looking at the room. It looked like he had taken all of my things from our shared room and brought them to that room. A jewelry box sat on a vanity, and I opened it to find some beautiful pieces. I walked to the walk-in closet, and none of the expensive clothes were ringing a bell. I ran my hand across the fashions and walked to the back of the enormous closet. I had more shoes than any one person could wear in a life time. I was rich. I was really, really rich. Okay. Maybe Drew was the rich one, but none the less.

I walked into the bathroom and was happy to see the jet tub that was calling my name. I started the hot water, and walked back to the bedroom to find comfortable clothes that weren’t so fancy. There were none. I had expensive nighties, not a cotton t-shirt in sight.

I opened the underwear drawer and frowned, pulling out something that I thought was supposed to be panties, but wasn’t honestly sure. What was the point in wearing them?

That just wasn’t going to work. I wanted comfortable flannel pants, underwear that covered my ass, and a soft cotton t-shirt.

I walked over to the phone and hit the number one.

“Is something wrong?” Drew asked.

“Yeah, kind of,” I stopped talking when I heard my voice coming from his end of the phone. How was that possible?

“What’s wrong, Morgan?”

“Are you sure these are my clothes?” I asked. I didn’t hear my voice on the other end that time and blew it off as another side effect to my brain injury.

“Yes, I am very sure that those are your clothes.”

“Well, I would like some comfortable sweats or flannels, some normal panties, and maybe some socks.

Didn’t I wear socks?” I asked.

“Not very often, you wore pantyhose mostly. I will send someone out to get you a few things.”

“Thanks, do I have a laptop?” I asked.

Drew didn’t speak. He kind of acted like I took him off guard for a second.

“You did have, it was in the car when you wrecked it.”

“Well, do you think that I could get another one?”

“Not yet. The doctor is afraid that too much eye movement will cause seizures. You have a television. You can watch that for a while if you want.”

“I don’t want to watch television. I wanted to do some research on my head injury. I would kind of like to know what I am up against, maybe find some stories from other survivors.”

“I’ll tell you what. You get a bath and rest for a while, and you can come down to my office and use mine for a while. Okay?”

“Why would I take a bath?” I asked. Why would he say that?

“Is that not what I hear in the background?” he asked. I relaxed.

“Oh, yeah, I guess it is. Sorry.”

The hot water felt amazing, and the jet streams were hitting sore spots that I didn’t know that I had. I think I was dozing off a little when I heard someone in my room.

“Hello,” I called out.

“It’s just me, Terri,” the one female called. “Can I come in?” she asked.

“Sure,” I replied, covering myself as much as I could.

“Mr. Kelley said that you were requesting some more comfortable clothes while you recovered. Mellissa went out to get you some things. I brought you some lunch,” she added.

“Thank you,” I replied. She smiled and left me to get out. The only problem was. I couldn’t get out. Every time I tried to pull myself up, the pain was unbearable and shot from my pelvic all the way down my right leg. Why the hell did I get in there?

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