Losing Balance
by Lionel

chapter 3

Lorenzo arrived at General Hospital at half past eight the next morning with a takeout bag from Kelly's and a large coffee in his hands. He had not had a restful night. Trouble had erupted on a delicate Indonesian project that was due to launch within the week, and Lorenzo had spent the better part of the night on the phone trying to rein in an overzealous subcontractor and soothe ruffled feathers in the Indonesian government. Lorenzo had been infuriated, but as always had concealed it under the cool efficiency and calm command that was his hallmark. At midnight he had dropped off the line to Indonesia long enough to call the hospital, where an accommodating nurse assured him that Alexis's surgery had gone well and she was recovering nicely.

What little sleep Lorenzo did squeeze in had been troubled. His dreams had been a jumble of images - the stern face of his father reprimanding him for some unknown failure, Luis's taunting visage cajoling Lorenzo to follow him down a dark hidden path, his mother's soft sad face, with gentle eyes that told him she understood but words that spoke of duty and respect, and finally Sophie, pleading with him to trust her and himself and leave the others behind.

Lorenzo had been relieved when the ringing doorbell pulled him out of his tormented sleep and Antonio appeared with a stack of papers. Among them was the initial report on Alexis Davis. It contained little more than the basic facts that could be gleaned from an overnight search of public records and press clippings, but it was a start.

Lorenzo had flipped through the report over his coffee, trying to organize the names and dates and events in the report into a coherent life story, but the material was resistant. On one page, Alexis looked like a highly educated jetsetter carefully trained for the highest levels of international policymaking; on the next, a bare-knuckled litigator working her tail off for the hardest cases; on the third, public face and point-woman for the mysterious and sinister and very old-money Cassadines. Lorenzo was impressed, but confused. It didn't help that the initial report contained enormous gaps and inconsistencies -- among them almost no information about Alexis's early years and conflicting descriptions of her relationship to various relatives - as well as completely implausible items, such as reports of relatives risen from the dead and a brief period of unseemly fame as an internet pin-up. All in all, Lorenzo had been unable to conjure up a mental portrait of Alexis that encompassed everything on the written page, let alone the woman he had seen in the flesh the day before, a woman who had alternated between brave and frightened, graceful and awkward, warm and cool.

Lorenzo knocked gently on the door of Alexis's hospital room and pushed it open. She was asleep on the bed, with her right leg wrapped in a cast and elevated on a pile of pillows. There was a fold-out cot in the corner of the room, empty but for a pillow and discarded sheet. Jax. Lorenzo set the food and coffee on the table, and quietly sank down in a chair to watch Alexis sleep.

Her sleep was not restful. Her face was tense, her fists were slightly clenched, and she seemed to startle every few moments, turning from side to side and breathing roughly. Still she was beautiful, Lorenzo thought, and utterly fascinating. It occurred to him that Alexis might not be happy to see him. He feared that the spell of the previous day had been broken, and that whatever connection they had forged - in his desperation and her pain and their mutual need - had evaporated. In the light of the new day, it seemed so unlikely that he would be sitting by this woman's hospital bed, that she had ever allowed him to touch her, or that they had spoken to one another honestly and without anger of the blood between them.

Lorenzo stood and reached over to straighten her bedsheet, which had become tangled about Alexis's free leg. As he leaned over, pulling the sheet to her chest, Alexis's eyes opened. Terror spread over her face at the sight of him, and Lorenzo's heart sank. "It's Lorenzo, Alexis," he said gently, but Alexis remained paralyzed with fear.

After a long moment Alexis blinked firmly and shook her head, trying to speed the reawakening of her senses. Gradually her face softened and her tense shoulders relaxed, as she remembered where she was and why Lorenzo Alcazar was standing over her bed. She exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry, Lorenzo," she said, biting her lip and regarding him warily. "For a minute I . . . You just looked so . . . You shaved," she said finally. He looked at her questioningly. "Last night you were scruffy," she explained. "Today you shaved." She looked at him more closely. "And you look weary."

"I am weary," he acknowledged. "And I'm sorry, Alexis. I should never have come here like this. I should have known that the last thing you needed right now was to see this face. Listen, I'll grow the beard back right now if it means you'll never look at me that way again."

"No, no, it's okay, Lorenzo. Really." Alexis forced a weak smile, still uncomfortable. The sadness and self-disgust registered on his face touched her, and she softened. "I'm just glad to see that the house let you go this morning. I was a little worried that you might have gotten stuck in the refrigerator or something," she said mischievously.

Lorenzo laughed in relief. "No. But speaking of refrigerators, I've brought you breakfast." He gestured at the bag and cup on the table.

Alexis's eyes widened in glee. "And coffee! Now you're my hero. But you're going to get me in trouble, you know. They told me no coffee. I told them that was unacceptable, of course, unless they upped the morphine in this i.v. significantly."

"I'm a rule-breaker," Lorenzo grinned, with a gleam in his eye.

Alexis couldn't help but smile back. He was certainly gorgeous, all clean shaven and fresh smelling and tailored, with that dark hair that threatened to flop in his eyes. She wasn't sure how long she could resist the urge to run her fingers through that hair. Or rub her cheek against that firm jaw. Or brush her lips against his -- they looked so soft, and warm. A warm tingle spread up from her toes, bringing a flush to her cheeks, and Alexis mentally kicked herself for her inappropriate thoughts. Alexis didn't typically objectify her conversational partners, but Lorenzo had an unusual effect on her. Maybe this is what they mean when they say that men think about sex thirteen times per minute, she thought.

"So, um, what's for breakfast?" she asked seriously. Not this man, she reminded herself. Off limits. For so many reasons.

"Mushroom and feta omelet, wheat toast, and fruit salad."

Alexis peered at Lorenzo suspiciously. "How did you know?"

"I asked at Kelly's. I've seen you there several times, figured you were a regular."

"Oh, I am indeed. Though not as regular as I used to be. Don't tell Jax, but sometimes I actually make breakfast for myself at home now," she whispered conspiratorially. "Motherhood has forced me to some extreme measures." Her smile faded as she realized the double meaning of her words, but Lorenzo didn't seem to notice.

"Speaking of Jax, where has he gone? I thought he was standing guard night and day. Protecting the castle walls from invaders. I hope you won't be offended if I tell you that you two don't act like any divorced couple I've ever known."

"We had a happy marriage and a happy divorce." Alexis ignored Lorenzo's inquiring expression. "He went home to shower and change. And then he's going to stop at my apartment and bring me my daughter," Alexis reported happily. "And some clean clothes," she added, digging into the food. "It looks like I might get out of here today, and if I do, I'd rather not leave in my underwear."

"Oh yes. By the way, I took the liberty of sending your things to the dry cleaners. The gardener came to the door grinning this morning with your suit and shoes. I let him draw his own conclusions about why a very well-dressed woman was stripping outside my window."

Lorenzo became more serious. "I took another liberty this morning, Alexis. I have to confess that I was very curious about you and did a little computer research."

"You googled me?" Alexis raised an eyebrow as if his interest in her were ludicrous. "Why?"

"I'm trained as a historian. Research is a reflex. When I'm curious about something, or someone, I go to the archives. Are you angry?"

"No. But you could have just asked me your questions, Lorenzo. Aren't first-person interviews a better primary source than whatever you can pull off the internet?" Alexis's heart jumped and she blushed fiercely as a thought came to her. "Oh, god. If you googled me then you must have seen . . ."

"Eddie's Angel? Yes." Lorenzo grinned teasingly. "That's really why I'm here. I feel a little let down that you were wearing just an ordinary slip yesterday. Not that you didn't do it justice."

Alexis groaned. She was sure her cheeks would catch fire. At least he was laughing with her, not at her, she told herself.

Lorenzo took her hand. "I'm sorry, Alexis. It's not fair of me to tease you like that. I can imagine that you don't appreciate the reminder."

Alexis sighed. "Sometimes I think I've been condemned to pay each and every day of the rest of my life for what I did to Ned Ashton - for every ounce of happiness and pleasure we had, a pound of humiliation and suffering. You did read about the runaway bride, didn't you?" Lorenzo nodded, looking down, slightly ashamed of his prying. "I'm not going to try to explain Eddie's Angel to you - I don't know you nearly well enough - but suffice it to say that was the most humiliating experience of my life. Until this one."

"I'm sorry I brought it up, Alexis. Really." Lorenzo affected his best conciliatory manner. "What I was trying to explain is that I've read a little bit about your background, and it seems that you and I have quite a lot in common."

"You and I? That seems unlikely. Unless there are naked pictures of you on the internet. In which case I think you are honor bound to tell me where to find them." Alexis couldn't seem to keep herself from flirting.

"No, not that I know of. But if you feel it would level the playing field, I'd be happy to take off my clothes," Lorenzo offered suggestively.

Alexis swallowed hard. "Why don't you tell me what it is you think we have in common?"

"Well, education for one. I know you took your law degree at Harvard, but before that you acquired quite a pile of certificates from the best universities in Europe. I took a similar path before getting my doctorate at Oxford. And I think that we moved in many of the same circles in Europe. In fact, it's surprising our paths never met. Of course, you belonged in those circles. I did not; I clawed my way in. Alcazars are not Cassadines."

Alexis listened, not offering a response. "And that's another thing I think we have in common - complicated, disreputable families," Lorenzo offered. "I can't claim to know what set you on the path you took, but my guess is that you were at least a little like me. Your family was grooming you to be their respectable and reputable public face. They wanted you to have the contacts and credentials needed to work with governments under the public glare, to operate in that gray area where the most lucrative business is done. Am I right?"

"Maybe. A little. But you really shouldn't try to understand the Cassadines, let alone my place in the family. I wasn't nearly as important to most of them as you seem to think." Alexis deflected the topic back to Lorenzo. "Where does your history Ph.D. fit in to your family's scheme? Seems a little intensive, and impractical."

"Oh, that was a misguided detour. Or at least that's what they would say. It's a bit complicated. I don't know you well enough to bore you with it."

There was a knock on the door. Lorenzo quickly cleared away the remains of Alexis's breakfast before the doctor came in. "Hello, Ms. Davis," Dr. Lindman announced. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Excellent." It came out a little more enthusiastically than she had intended. It sounded like a lie even to her ears. "Eager to get home."

"Well, we'll have to see about that," the old doctor responded. "We'll get you up and moving about with the therapist again later this afternoon, and see how you do. No promises, though. How's the pain?"

"Oh, quite manageable. I haven't had to go to the trough all morning. My friend here has been an excellent distraction." Lorenzo was pleased to hear himself called a friend.

"Well, that's excellent," the doctor nodded. "But don't be a hero. There's no shame in saying you need help with the pain."

"Oh, sure there is, Dr. Lindman. At least that's what my brother always told me."

"Oh, brothers can be like that, Ms. Davis. When I think of the things I did to my little brother in our day . . ." Dr. Lindman laughed at the recollection.

Alexis smiled politely. Lorenzo watched with interest, quite certain that Alexis's brother was no more like Dr. Lindman than Luis was.

"Well, any other questions for me, Ms. Davis? No? Good. I'll be back to check on you this afternoon. We can talk about your check-out date then."

"Okay, thank you, doctor." The door closed behind the doctor. "Now, Lorenzo, I really do appreciate the distraction, but I have a few phone calls I need to make before Kristina and Jax get here. I'm afraid I had scheduled a busy day at the office, not a leisurely day in bed, and I need to rearrange a few things."

Lorenzo stood up. "Okay, I can take a hint. There are some things I should take care of as well. Listen, I have some appointments and a lunch meeting, but after that I can stop back. Shall I send your car to your apartment or would you like it here?"

"Uh, my apartment would be great. Thanks." Alexis hesitated. "Listen, Lorenzo, you really don't need to come back here this afternoon. Between Jax and Kristina and therapy, I think I'll be pretty tied up."

Lorenzo frowned. He recognized the brush-off, but took her hand in his defiantly. "Okay. I don't want to intrude. But may I come to see you tomorrow at home? Help you get settled?" His blue eyes locked onto hers, reflecting not challenge but openness and generosity.

"I really don't think that's a good idea, Lorenzo," Alexis said frankly. Her hand was burning from the contact with his, and she had to fight to resist her body's urge to pull him toward her and kiss the petulant frown off his face.

"Why not?"

Alexis sighed. "I told you yesterday, Lorenzo. I don't think it's a good idea for you and me to get any better acquainted. I am on very tenuous ground with everything in my life - custody of my daughter, my reinstatement to the bar, getting my practice back off the ground - and I can't afford to be associated with you."

"I can help you, Alexis. I can take care of all of that for you. I'm a powerful man." Lorenzo was almost pleading. This felt so important to him.

"I know that," she said softly. "And that's what scares me. We barely know each other, Lorenzo. Two days ago you hated me. What happens if someday you hate me again, for whatever reason? What happens to me if your connections, the people who help you help me, turn on you or lose their power? I know how tenuous power games can be. I play them, too, Lorenzo, but only when it comes to the Cassadines. With my daughter, with my law license, I have to play it clean."

Lorenzo had no response. He looked down for a long moment at her graceful fingers wrapped in his own strong hand, then raised her hand to his lips and kissed her softly on the back of the hand. She gazed at him sadly, and he looked up, those intense blue eyes boring into her. He turned her hand over and brought it back to his lips, placing a hard, hot, wet kiss on the palm of her hand. Alexis gasped, as a current surged through her body. She felt like a tuning fork that had been struck. "What about what you want, Alexis?" Lorenzo growled, his voice low. "What about what you need? You're not just a mother and lawyer. I'm not wrong about this, am I?" Lorenzo gestured vaguely to the space between them.

Alexis shook her head, still breathing heavily. She wasn't sure she could speak. "No, you're not wrong, Lorenzo. But it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that I've enjoyed your company or that I'm curious about you or that I'm . . . attracted to you." Her breath caught. "I can't let that matter. I have to think of my daughter first," she pled weakly.

Lorenzo was still holding her hand lightly, and he raised it again and pressed his lips to her palm, more gently and tenderly than before. Finally he released her hand and walked to the door. He turned around as if to say something, to make another plea, but the words caught in his throat as he took in the vision of Alexis, still flushed and burning, eyes glistening and jaw clenched, willing him to leave. He turned, opened the door, and left.

In her hospital bed, Alexis picked up a pillow and hugged it tight against her chest, trying to quell the empty ache. She rocked gently from side to side, and let the tears fall.

chapter  4