Heroes (Hollywood Heartthrobs #1) by Kate Rivers

funny
that we were right all along,” the nurse explained, trying to ignore the hairs
standing up on the back of her neck.
              “What do you
mean you didn’t know who I was? It’s right here: Jane Doe,” she answered. Was
everyone crazy in this place? She wondered.
              Nurse Freeman
stopped for a moment, and chose her next words carefully. “Did you see your
name when you read that sheet?”
              Jane’s eyes
went wide. “Yes. Is that bad?”
              Nurse Freeman
pursed her lips. “No, it’s perfectly alright, Jane. But, do I then take it that
you don’t remember anyone calling you Jane Doe before today?”
              “How did you
know that?”
              “That isn’t
important. What can you tell me about yourself? Where do you live, for
example?”
              “Well, that’s
the thing. I’m not really sure. I just woke up here and can’t really remember
anything. I saw my name and the circumstances of my injuries on the sheet. I
tried to ask him,” she waved vaguely at Dean, “but he just ran off to get you.
I’m not really sure what’s going on here.”
              Nurse Freeman
made a quick decision. It was hours before the neurologist, or any of the
psychiatrists for that matter, would arrive. She took a breath and said, as
calmly as possible (which, given her decades of experience in nursing, was very
calm indeed), “he didn’t tell you anything because he doesn’t know either. You
were struck this afternoon, technically yesterday afternoon at this point, by a
truck near Lake Shore Drive. He helped pull you away from it. He had never seen
you before. There was no identification on you when you arrived. We were hoping
you could tell us who you are. You see, Jane Doe is a name we assign to
patients when we are unable to ascertain their names.” She paused for a moment
to let the announcement sink in. “Do you understand what I’ve just told you?”
              The woman
thought for a moment before answering. When she felt sure she could trust her
voice, she answered. “Yes. I understand. I came to the hospital and no one knew
who I was, now I don’t seem to know either.”
              “Correct,”
Nurse Freeman said simply. “This has sometimes been known to happen to patients
with head injuries. The neurologist will be able to talk with you more in the
morning. For now, I would suggest you try to rest. If you need anything, the
red button over the bed will ring the nurses’ station.” She turned to go,
thinking this would be one hell of a report to leave for the morning shift.
              Jane, or at
least the woman now thinking of herself as Jane, was silent after the nurse’s
departure. She had nearly forgotten the man was even there until he sat back
down in the chair, staring at the floor. She took another few seconds to sift
through the implications of Nurse Freeman’s announcement before she spoke to
him.
              “What’s your
name?” she asked.
              He turned and
looked into those unforgettable green eyes. “Dean,” he answered. “Dean
Everett.”
              “Nice to meet
you, Dean Everett, and thank you for saving my life,” she said.
              “Thank you?”
he repeated, stunned.
              Jane
responded amazingly nonplussed. “Well, according to the nurse I was hit by a
truck. It seems a bump on the head and a broken arm is a pretty fortunate
outcome for someone involved in such an accident. She also said you pulled me
away from it. It would stand to reason that if not for someone pulling me away
from it, I would be much worse off, possibly dead. So, again, thank you for
saving my life.” As she spoke, a wide, artless, absolutely beautiful smile
filled her face. It was a smile of complete sincerity, gratitude, warmth, and
affection. Dean had seen countless would-be Hollywood starlets try