Page 74 of Love is a Drum Beat
He blew out a breath. “I have to get to her. Can you order me a car?”
“I’ll do you one better. I’m parked out back. Come on.”
Dax was so frazzled he didn’t realize he’d left his ball cap sitting on the couch. All the care he’d taken to avoid being seen entering or leaving the studio didn’t seem to matter anymore.
Not when he had to get to Jo.
Marco lead him to a dark blue SUV and unlocked the doors.
“Please hurry.” Dax leaned his head back on the seat.
Marco wound through traffic. It didn’t surprise Dax that Marco knew which hospital to go to. The entire world had seen the pictures of Jo.
“Drop me off at the ER. It’s the quickest route to labor and delivery.”
Marco didn’t remark on Dax knowing that bit of information, and Dax didn’t tell him why. A drop of rain hit the windshield, followed by another and another until a steady drumming sounded off the roof of the car. Each moment gave more life to the rain as it pounded into the earth.
They reached the hospital as the skies opened up. A line of cars blocked the ER patient entrance as people waited for the valet.
Dax opened his door.
“What are you doing?” Marco tried to stop him. “It’s pouring down rain out there.”
“I don’t care. She needs me, and there is no way I’m letting her down.” Whatever he had to do. “Thanks for the ride.” He didn’t hear anything else Marco said as he dove into the rain and started running past the line of cars. Paparazzi huddled under the overhangs, kept outside by a guard watching over them. They were here for Jo, but they wouldn’t get close to her.
The paps paid no mind to the average guy sprinting by them. The doors slid open, letting out a blast of cold air that had him shivering. He stepped into the full waiting area, water dripping from his hair and rolling across the lenses of his glasses. He left a trail of water in his wake, but he didn’t look back.
There was a line at reception, and he waited. And waited. When he stepped up to an older woman sitting behind the computer, he slapped a wet hand on the counter. “I need to know what room Josephine Jackson is in.” He couldn’t remember if she used a different name.
The woman didn’t smile. “You and every other reporter who has found their way in.”
“I’m not a reporter.”
“Sure, and I’m not the receptionist.”
“What?”
She looked up. “We aren’t in the habit of giving room numbers of our high profile patients. You’ll have to watch the magazines like everyone else if you want to see if Apple or Banana has been born.”
“What?” Apple? Banana?
This time, when she looked up, it was at the line gathering behind him. “You aren’t getting up to that floor. Now go. You’re clogging up my line.”
He stepped aside, eyeing the double doors.
“Don’t even think about it.” The woman scowled. “I already had one patient sneak by me today. Leave.”
Pulling out his phone, Dax stepped away from reception and prayed for his mom to answer the phone. She’d get him up there. He hung up when her voicemail played.
Dax crossed his arms and turned to survey the waiting room. There had to be a way that didn’t involve making a run for it.
It hit him then. There was.
He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. There were two IDs in it. One said his name was Dillon. He only used that one to buy his scotch.
The other… He smiled in apology at a woman approaching the desk. “Excuse me, this is important.” He slapped the second ID down on the counter, making the woman jump.
“What’s the meaning of—”
