SLEAZE: A Hollywood Comeback Story (Book #1)

Chapter 58

Sophie's dad was an unimpressive man. 

Slouched over and balding, he wore ill-fitting clothes that did nothing to hide the beer belly that protruded from his otherwise slender frame. He was the sort of man that most people wouldn't notice walking down the street and, truthfully, I didn't give him a second glance until I heard him ask the waiting room's receptionist where his daughter was.

"She's had a rough night," the woman behind the desk informed him with a sympathetic shake of her head. She motioned at a row of empty chairs. "I believe she's still being evaluated but if you'd care to take a seat, I know her doctors would like to speak with you."

The receptionist's eyebrow twitched upwards when Mr. Winters nodded but didn't move. He wrung his hands with a seemingly frantic urgency. "Do they... Are they aware of her medical history? It--it'll be important that they know."

Lips pursed tightly, the receptionist reached for the phone on her desk. "Let me see if I can get someone out here now."

"Thank you," Mr. Winters said in a voice just above a whisper. Then, he turned and shuffled across the room towards an open seat, lowering himself onto the worn cushion.

Shoulders slumped forward, Mr. Winters seemed defeated as he buried his face into his hands and took deep, shuddering breaths. I knew that I was staring while I tried to decide whether or not to approach him but my internal debate ended abruptly when Mr. Winters looked up and met my gaze. Recognition flashed over his features and, the next thing I knew, he was standing directly in front of me. I got to my feet.

"Excuse me, but you're Parker Jennings, aren't you?" Mr. Winters asked, studying my face. When I nodded, he extended a shaky hand. "Timothy Winters -- or, Tim, if you prefer. Either's fine."

"Nice to meet you," I murmured.

Tim's clammy handshake reminded me of a limp fish and it was painfully obvious that he possessed none of his daughter's confidence; however, as I studied him up close, I began to see their similarities. The sparse hair on his head was a familiar golden color, though grey flecked the remaining wispy strands. His eyes were also the same piercing shade of blue as Sophie's and, although they darted around nervously, it felt like he could see right through me when he spoke.

"I know that it'll mean a lot to Sophie when she sees you here," he said with a small smile.

"I was with her in the ambulance." I paused, unsure of how to phrase what I wanted to say next. Tim looked at me. "I'm worried about her," I admitted in a rush. "Not only because of tonight either."

"I know," Tim said, and his face seemed to sag. "There's something you should probably know but I'm not sure if--"

Before he could finish his thought, a doctor appeared with a clipboard in his hand. "Mr. Winters?"

Tim excused himself and hurried over to the man. They spoke in low voices while the doctor furiously jotted down notes. From where I sat, I could only hear snippets of the conversation so I quietly moved closer to where they stood. 

"In addition to showing signs of severe dehydration and malnutrition, she presented in a highly agitated state," the doctor explained with a clinical matter-of-factness. "It's unclear whether or not the alcohol triggered the delusions but it's apparent that she's been unwell for quite some time."

"Did you... Did you give her anything?" Tim asked, and the doctor nodded.

"We administered an intravenous dose of Olanzapine after she refused an oral alternative. She's been in and out since; however, when she has been awake, she's been relatively lucid, which is good."