Chapter 1288
[ 707 words ]
“Mr. Tate, are you okay?” Clark asked, growing worried as he watched his boss
stare blankly at the ceiling like his soul had left his body.
“I need to be alone for a minute,” Jimmie ordered, his voice heavy.
“Right away.” Clark set the fruit basket down and slipped out into the hallway. But no matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn’t figure out who had captured his boss’s heart. Jimmie never interacted with his female co-stars off-set, and he barely knew any women in his personal life.
Who was it? Who on earth could it be?
Inside the room, Jimmie pulled out his phone and opened Luella’s texting profile.
Her only post was a pinned photo of the red earring. He closed his eyes, and instantly, his mind was flooded with images of her—bickering with him, dragging him away from the accident, tending to his wounds in the rain.
He was shocked by his own actions. He had known jumping after her could have killed him, yet he hadn’t hesitated for a second. If they hadn’t gotten incredibly lucky, they would both be dead.
Was that really just gratitude?
He threw an arm over his eyes. It felt like two different people were tearing him apart from the inside out-one purely rational, the other completely out of control.
Of all the people in the world to fall for, why did it have to be Luella?
His parents had practically adopted the guy. He was Juniper’s best friend. How was he supposed to explain this to them?
The more he thought about it, the more suffocated he felt.
But then, he tried to rationalize it. It was the modern age. True love transcended gender, didn’t it? If love could cross age gaps and social classes, why not this?
Most importantly, Luella liked men. And he happened to be a man.
Life was short. Why not just follow his heart and see where it led? Why not give it a shot?
By evening, Luella quietly pushed the hospital door open, holding a thermos of hot soup. She had planned to just drop it off and leave, but the sound of the door startled Jimmie awake.
“You’re up?” Luella stood awkwardly near the bed, fidgeting. “Feeling any better?” The injury wasn’t critical, but he had lost a lot of blood. The cut was deep. She worried it might leave a scar and mess up his acting career.
“Yeah,” he swallowed hard, his voice raspy. “Help me fix my pillow.”
“Oh! Right!” She hurried over, clumsily adjusting the hospital bed before gently lifting his head to adjust the pillow.
They were so close she could feel the faint brush of his breath against her skin.
“There.” She quickly stepped back, pointing to the thermos. “Hearty pork broth. I’ll let Clark know so he can feed you later.”
“Clark went back to my place to grab some clothes.” Jimmie’s expression remained perfectly neutral, though bis dark eyes locked onto hers. He won’t be back for a while.”
“?” She hesitated. “Then… do you want me to feed you?”
“I can do it myself.” He made a show of trying to sit up. His leg was
heavily bandaged, and his arms were covered in scrapes every single one a glaring reminder that he had gotten them to save her.
“I’ll do it.” She quickly poured a bowl of soup, scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and held it to his lips.
Looking up through his thick lashes, his dark, mesmerizing eyes stared intently at the “boy” standing before him.
“?” Feeling her scalp tingle under his intense gaze, she quickly added, “Dana made it. It’s not poisoned, I swear.”
Thoroughly amused by her ridiculous guarantee, the corner of his mouth twitched upwards into a soft smile.
“?” Luella pressed her lips together, her mind racing.
Did she see that right?
Was Jimmie Tate actually smiling?
He looked a million times better like this than with his usual resting bitch face!
“Do you need to rest?” she asked softly once the bowl was empty.
“The doctor is coming in a bit to change my IV,” he said, his voice dropping an octave as he kept his eyes on her “Someone needs to be here. Do you mind staying a little longer?”
“Sure.” Consumed by guilt, she would have agreed to anything he asked.
After that, the hospital room descended into a tense, suffocating silence.
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