“Yes. Thanks for all that you’re doing to help us right now,” she choked out.
Tal released her and growled, “You are family to us. We’re here to circle the wagons and help you both get healed. Whatever you need? You call me. I’ll be there for you.”
“You have no idea how important that is,” Sloan said, overwhelmed with emotions.
Tal walked to the door and opened it. “Remember, Mom will be the whirling dervish coming to visit you at nine. You’ve been warned.” She chuckled and lifted her hand in farewell.
*
Dilara Culver arrived promptly at nine a.m. She had her assistant, Abby, bring in several bags holding containers of soup and Turkish desserts. Sloan had met Dilara several times in the past and smiled as they quietly tiptoed into Dan’s hospital room. Dilara had her red hair in a braid down her back. Her aquamarine eyes sparkled with welcome as she embraced Sloan gently, kissing her cheeks three times, a sign that she was family and not just an acquaintance or friend. She introduced Abby, who smiled and quickly took the bags of food and placed them on top of one of the dressers. She then said goodbye and left.
“How is Dan doing?” Dilara asked quietly, sliding her arm around Sloan’s waist.
Sloan could smell the dampness and rain on the camelhair coat Dilara wore. She had a bright red scarf knotted fashionably around her neck, the gold tassels on the ends hanging down the front of her coat. “He’s sleeping I think.” Sloan filled her in on what the doctors had said. The delicious scents of the food started to waft through the room, and Sloan’s stomach growled. Dilara raised an arched red brow, giving her stomach a significant look. Her red lips curved.
“Have you had breakfast yet, Sloan?”
“No,” she admitted.
Just then, Dara peeked into the room, waved, and entered. She immediately went over to Dilara. Warmth filled her chest as she saw Dilara hug her daughter-in-law with affection. Just being around Dilara infused Sloan with hope. This woman was truly a catalyst in the world, doing so much good for so many. Sloan did nothing but admire her. Now, she was getting a taste of her hands-on management style up front.
“Dara, dear? Do you mind coming and checking in on Dan periodically for the next hour? I’m going to take Sloan out of this hospital and drive over to a wonderful restaurant with the best breakfast in town. She hasn’t eaten yet.”
Dara smiled and released Dilara. “I’d be happy to do that for you.”
Sloan felt the worry slide off her shoulders.
“Wonderful, sweet Dara.” Dilara gently pinched Dara’s cheek, smiling. “We’ll be back in about an hour and a half. Dan isn’t supposed to wake up until noon, so all should be well here.”
“No problem. Go enjoy breakfast,” she urged them.
Sloan thanked her and grabbed Tal’s coat out of the closet, putting it on. She reached into the bag and found a dark blue knit cap, leather gloves, and a blue knit scarf. Putting them on, she smiled over at Dilara, who stood near the door, waiting for her. “How cold is it?”
“It’s sleeting,” she warned. “Cold and nasty out. The limousine is parked out front, and my driver will take us to the restaurant.” Reaching out, Dilara slid her arm around Sloan’s. “Come, we’ll walk out together. We have lots to chat about.”
CHAPTER 12
“Dan is going to need ongoing medical support for at least eight weeks,” Dilara said as she sat opposite Sloan in a booth at the Bicycle Club Restaurant. They sat within the interior of the busy restaurant, the servers moving quickly and quietly among the hundred or so patrons. Outside the large windows, the sleet had become big, fat snowflakes twirling lazily down from the gray morning sky.
Sloan savored the Mediterranean omelet of lamb, spices, artichokes and fluffy eggs. “Yes, he will.”
Dilara delicately patted her lips with a pink linen napkin. “I’ve gone over both of your personnel files, Sloan.” She smoothed the napkin across the top of her camel-colored wool trousers. “And I’ve also talked to Tal and Dara.” She opened her manicured hands, her nails a bright red to match her lipstick. “There’s only so much I can read into a personnel file, but tell me if I’m wrong? Is there something between you and Dan?”
Sloan swallowed and set her fork aside, suddenly not hungry. The care and concern in Dilara’s expression was genuine, and she didn’t feel like she was snooping where she wasn’t wanted. “I guess Tal told you that we’d had a relationship at Bagram four years ago?”
Nodding, Dilara reached out, patting her hand. “Yes, and that you broke up?”
The pain was always there, in the background, gnawing at her heart. Sloan wiped her mouth and frowned. Her voice came out low. “Yes.”
“Did you walk away from him?”
“No. The other way around.”
“But,” Dilara said, opening her hands, “if you had been going with one another for a year and a half, why would he suddenly break it off with you? That’s what I don’t understand.”
Sloan’s mouth quirked. She told her the short version of what happened, and what she’d just found out a few days ago from Dan himself. Dilara’s expression saddened, and her eyes filled with sympathy as Sloan painted the picture for her.
“He has many childhood wounds to overcome,” Dilara murmured. “But you seem to be hopeful that you might get together again after that talk on the beach?”
Sighing, Sloan whispered, “I don’t really know. I want it, but I don’t know what Dan wants.”
“Getting nearly killed hours after such a talk hasn’t given Dan the time to absorb it at all,” Dilara agreed, frowning. She pushed her empty plate aside, picking up a cup of coffee between her slender hands.
“No, there’s been no time. And now, Dan will go through the whole emotional trauma of almost dying. That changes a person too. And I have no idea where he’s going to be after coming out of that.”
Tilting her head, Dilara pinned Sloan with her intense gaze. “What do you hope to get out of this? What is in your heart?”
Rolling her eyes, Sloan sat back in the black leather booth, her hands gripping the napkin in her lap. “Right or wrong, I’m an idealist. Dan’s a realist. I’ve tried so hard to not be an idealist when it comes to him.”
“But you love him. Yes? Because I hear it in your voice and I see it in your eyes, and in your face.”
Sloan’s mouth thinned. “I do love him. And I think I’m a fool for letting him back into my heart after that talk we had. Didn’t I learn my lesson the first time? That he can walk out whenever he feels threatened? Whenever his life parallels his mother’s life?”
“But four years have gone by. Dan, I’m sure, has changed. Matured.”
Blowing out a breath of air, her voice stricken, Sloan needed Dilara’s gentleness and understanding. The woman exuded it, and she felt embraced by her sincere care for her. “The truth? I don’t know.”
“Hmmm.” Dilara studied her for a moment. “What if I gave you a chance to find out? Would you have the courage to take it?”
“What do you mean? You can’t make Dan love me.”
She smiled faintly. “Of course I can’t. But what I can do, is put you in close proximity to him to find out.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know Dan has a condo here in Alexandria.” Her voice lowered. “But what if, after Dan is ready to leave the hospital, he is taken to your home? I know you have a lovely turn-of-the-century house fifteen miles from Artemis. You have the bedrooms necessary, and we could bring in a medical bed for him and get everything set up. You would, of course, be his medical caretaker. Artemis would give you that eight weeks, with pay, to take care of him. What do you think about this idea?”
Sloan sat at the table in shock. Dilara felt so confident about the idea, but she didn’t. “It’s true; there are three bedrooms in my home.”
“And how do you feel having Dan underfoot for eight weeks?” Dilara inquired, folding her hands on the table and studying her.