Page 65 of Original Sin

Matt got up and walked through into another room, returning with some tablets and a glass of water. ‘Take these. They’re strong, but they’ll do the trick.’

‘Professional strength. Wonderful,’ she smiled. ‘The beauty of having a friend in the medical profession.’

‘So we’re friends now?’ he said with a smile.

‘The least I can do is forgive you, particularly when I’ve disturbed your breakfast.’

She nodded over to the table where there was a large pizza, still in its cardboard box.

‘Still warm,’ he said. ‘Want some?’

‘Pizza for breakfast?’

‘Breakfast or an extremely late supper,’ he nodded, rubbing his face wearily. ‘I’m not entirely sure which. Hours mean nothing after a fifteen–hour shift.’

He bent down and gently lifted her leg, then popped a cushion under her injured foot.

‘How come you called me?’ he said, not looking up as he put a dressing on her grazed knee.

‘You said if I was ever on the West–Side … ’ she joked. ‘Seriously, I was running in the park and a pap guy chased me. I fell and pow, my ankle went. I thought I’d broken it.’

He lifted his head and smiled. ‘I’m just surprised you came to me. Shouldn’t you be being attended to by your personal physician?’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Matt, I’m not the Queen of England.’

‘But I bet you have staff,’ he said with a smirk.

‘No. Well, yes. Kind of.’

‘Do you have a driver?’

‘Sometimes. Well, actually he’s David’s, I get him when he’s not busy.’

‘What about a maid?’

‘Yes …’ she said, starting to feel embarrassed. ‘I have someone who cleans for me, but that’s not unusual, is it?’

‘A personal trainer?’

‘Come on, this is New York,’ she grinned with a wince, and Matt laughed, stretching across to get a slice of pizza. He folded it into three before he wedged it in his mouth. Just then a thought hit her.

‘Oh damn, I’d better phone my publicist,’ she said distractedly.

Matt burst out laughing, strings of cheese falling onto his chin. It slightly irritated her, knowing he found her lifestyle so amusing, but she still liked it when he smiled. Most of the time he was so intense, almost sombre, but when his face broke into a smile, it lightened his features. Turning away from him, she dialled Tess’s number. Tess answered immediately.

‘There’s been an incident,’ she said.

‘Go on.’

She quickly told Tess about her run, the paparazzo with the video camera, and her fall. ‘When I jumped in a cab, the guy was still trying to film my leg. I, well, I think I hit him with the door.’

Brooke heard Tess take a sharp intake of breath. ‘How badly was he hurt?’ she asked.

‘Not so badly hurt that he didn’t carry on filming. And shouting gross things at me.’

‘Oh Brooke,’ sighed Tess. There was a disappointed, distracted pause. ‘When did this happen?’

‘Maybe forty–five minutes ago? Look, I got the cab driver’s cell number. He saw that it was a total accident. He said he would tell the police that the pap was harassing me.’