Chapter 8
"I bring excellent news," Dmitri Giannopopoulos announced late the next morning as he let himself into Costa's study. Lifting his head from the sheaf of papers he was studying, Costa imagined he looked only mildly interested as the doctor entered his study. Years ago he mastered impassivity, since his poker face was one of his most powerful business assets.
Though he probably looked as cool as a cucumber, Costa knew it was a sham. He had spent one of the worst nights in memory after Dmitri examined Tallia yesterday and explained to him his theory of what had happened to her. Knowing they could do nothing but wait and see how bad the damage to her spine was, had been torturous. Not being able to do anything drove him almost mad, especially not being able to even check in on her as he knew it would only upset her to see him if she was awake or woke up while he was in the room.
Pushing away the papers he had been half-heartedly reading and re-reading all morning, as he couldn't concentrate on anything, Costa waved Dmitri to a chair. He hardly dared move or draw breath as he waited to hear what the doctor would say, though the man’s jovial manner gave him hope.
"Our lovely patient is moving all ten of her fingers and toes this morning Costa!"
Nodding his head gravely, Costa tamped down on the relief that poured through him. "So, we are out of the woods?" he asked cautiously.
Dmitri nodded his head, "It would seem. The swelling is down and Kiri Maitland has regained sensation in her right side. Now all that remains is for her to begin moving the right arm and leg. I do not think it presumptuous to anticipate she will be doing so by the end of the day- tomorrow by the latest.
“She is a very brave girl, but I think it would be wise for her to stay off her feet for several weeks. She will be very weak for quite some time and needs bed rest and only light exercise. No traveling, no lifting heavy objects, and no stress of any kind!"
"Yes, of course, you can be sure of it," Costa murmured, holding himself upright with grim effort when all he wanted to do was sag back in his chair and thank God that Tallia was going to make a full recovery. He couldn't think what he would have done if she had remained paralyzed. Guilt had been eating him alive all night and even knowing she was on the mend did little to lighten the heavy sense of self-loathing burdening his soul.
"Good. I shall go now, I have patients on the mainland to tend to, but Fidelio has promised to bring me back tomorrow morning to examine her again and check on her progress. I am only a phone call away, and that loud bird of yours can have me back here in less than an hour, so feel free to send for me if there are any problems.
“Kiri Maitland already has an entire pharmacy of pain killers, she should manage as long as she remains calm and nothing is permitted to upset her. Everything should be fine Costa," he said with a broad grin, standing up and leaning across the table to shake his hand.
Costa snapped to his feet and shook the doctors hand, wishing he shared the man's optimism. Tallia's health might no longer be of any concern, but he had his doubts that things would be fine in his house. He owed the woman a debt of honor he knew he would never be able to repay. On top of that, Emily Maitland would be here soon and after the way he treated Tallia he knew he would be in no position to object to the woman his brother believed himself to be in love with, no matter how unsuitable he found her.
Watching the doctor leave, Costa collapsed into his chair the moment he was alone and let out a deep groan. He had made a mess of things, a spectacularly awesome shambles of his life. He had attacked the wrong woman, possibly alienated his brother, and discovered he was secretly a petty, sadistic monster- all in less than forty-eight hours.
A master strategist, he could see he had maneuvered himself into an untenable position on multiple fronts. When he took inventory of the personal wreckage that lay all about him, he was almost impressed by how swiftly and completely he had derailed his life.
Considering his appalling behavior and the ensuing fallout, Costa wished he could kick his own ass, since no one else seemed willing to do it for him. Fidelio had not recriminated him once for behaving like a brute last night- as he should have, instead he had opened up and told Costa all about the woman with whom he was in love.
What a woman indeed, Costa thought acerbically. Emily Maitland was exactly the sort of creature he would never wish on his brother, much less his worst enemy. Miss Maitland, the younger, was a flashy young model who made a name for herself several years ago promoting a racy underwear line. Costa remembered the campaign well for its utter lack of taste and her utter lack of modesty. If memory served him right, his future sister-in-law’s nude body had been splashed across every bus, billboard and television screen in the world.
Emily Maitland had used her professional success to launch countless, highly publicized affairs with every man-whore playboy, actor, and degenerate imaginable- all of it well documented by the tabloids. Costa had been appalled to learn, when he did an Internet search on her last night, that the woman actually had a sex tape floating around in cyberspace!
Between her underwear modeling and tabloid-fodder love life, Costa considered Emily Maitland one tiny step up from a porn star. She was everything Costa hated. If the sex tape wasn't bad enough, the girl had topped her career of scandal off by becoming a raging drug addict- also well documented as Costa quickly discovered by typing her name into a search engine on his computer. After that Miss Maitland seemed to have fallen off the face of the earth.
Not one to follow gossip rags and the lives of famous train wrecks, Costa knew nothing about her aside from her career as a tacky lingerie model. Last night, unfortunately, he learned all he ever wanted to know of the sordid history of Miss Emily Maitland from his brother and the Internet. After almost destroying her career with her drug use, Emily's life had continued to spiral more and more out of control. Fidelio told him of her numerous drug arrests and visits to rehab, all of which had done nothing to make her change her ways.
It was only when Emily wrapped her sleek sports car around a telephone pole, with her sister Tallia in the passenger seat, that she finally stopped her self-indulgent foolishness. While Tallia had almost died in the accident, Emily walked away without a scratch. The near miss had been enough to literally scare Emily Maitland straight. She had stopped taking drugs and abandoned her reckless, partying ways to devote herself completely to her sister and her career.
Costa supposed it was an admirable end to a sordid story and he should be impressed, but all he could think of was Tallia lying broken and almost mortally wounded in a hospital bed for two years. He had seen pictures on the Internet of Emily’s wrecked car and he was still amazed Tallia survived. The passenger side of Emily's sports car had been completely crushed and mangled beyond recognition. According to the newspaper accounts, Tallia had been pried from the wreckage without a heartbeat and resuscitated in an ambulance en rout to the hospital. She had been in a coma for nine months without any prospects of ever awakening, much less walking again.
Somehow she pulled through it all, he mused grimly, only to land in my unsympathetic hands. Theos, he couldn't believe what he had put her through yesterday. As long as he lived Costa knew he would never forget the fear he had seen on her face as he drove her along the cliffs. She had been whiter than a sheet. She had begged - begged! – for him to stop the car, and he had ignored her. Worse, he had enjoyed her fear, enjoyed punishing her for all that he thought she was, a greedy, grasping, shallow, good-time girl- his brother’s girl.
Costa didn't think he could ever face her again. No amount of apologizing would suffice, no gift or favor or… or anything could make this right. She must hate him and he could hardly blame her. He kept thinking of her terror when she saw him in her room yesterday. His gut twisted when he remembered how the damn flight medic had been forced to sedate her just to get her to calm down!
Dropping his head into his hands, Costa tried to think of a way to fix this situation, but his usually agile brain was useless. There was no way
to repair the damage. She would never look at him with anything but fear and loathing. She must hate him, while all he could do was think about her, and want her.