Fully compliant, Whitney sat where he led her, head in her hands rather than watching him. This had shaken her badly, more than she would have ever assumed had anyone posed the situation to her in the form of a hypothetical 'what if' scenario. It wasn't as though she and her mother had ever really gotten along, ever, and that had only gotten worse with age, but this was her mother and the most terrifying part was the unknown. What was waiting in Philly once she had reached there?
Taking her phone out of the pocket of the wrongly-button shirt, she proceeded to once more dial the numbers of all relevant cell phones and house phones with no response. Frustrated again even while realizing there were possibly legitimate reasons not all of them could answer phones right now, she tucked away the phone again and rubbed at her eyes with the backs of her hands. She had to keep it together for now.
When Phillip spoke a moment later, there was a slight reaction of surprise, as she had, well not forgotten him, but she had been focused elsewhere again.
"Right." She rose from the chair and started toward the door, then looked down at her bare feet. "I need shoes. And a coat."
It was only when Whitney drew attention to her lack of shoes and a coat that he realized the haphazard way that she was dressed. While he didn't expect her to get dressed up in business attire to go see her mother in the hospital, perhaps he shouldn't be able to see flashes of her bare belly through her missbuttoned shirt.
"Come here." he said quietly, his fingers working quickly, in an almost businesslike way as he unbuttoned the shirt and then rebuttoned it correctly. It wasn't as though he had not seen her nude before, and right no he didn't know that she was capable of it given the circumstances. He knew that he wouldn't be. "It's going to be fine." He smoothed his hand over her shoulders, making the shirt lay right on her. Perhaps, he thought, he should encourage her to change out of the pajama pants as well, but they looked comfortable and they DID have a flight to catch. Deciding on a middle ground of sorts he grabbed a coat for her from atop a pile of clothing and helped her into it as well. It wasn't that he thought her incapable, rather, it was that he thought her attention should rightfully be focused elsewhere. He grabbed what looked like a comfortable pair of pants just in case, as there would be room in the company jet if she chose to change there. "There are your shoes..." he pointed out the first pair of non-heeled shoes that he could see both mates for.
It wasn't fun to feel as helpless as a child, but that couldn't be helped right now. Thus, Whitney stood quietly as he rebuttoned her shirt, giving him a grateful but still lost look when he helped her on with her coat, then went to get her shoes. This was probably the worst dressed she had been since college - or maybe not even then - but she couldn't really bring herself to care. If this was bad, there wouldn't be anyone to bitch about her clothing choices and if it weren't bad, then the bitching would be a welcome relief. That was a potentially disturbing thought.
Once shod, she looked up at him and then gave him a weak sort of half shrug. "No." He hadn't been asking if she was ready to go do this, only if she was ready to go, but it was all the same.
"I know.." Phillip whispered, feeling quite helpless himself. No matter what he did, he couldn't make things right for her. He couldn't protect Mrs. de Winter, a woman who he had grown increasingly fond of as his role in the company had increased, he couldn't get Whitney there any faster than the plane would go. There was little he COULD do, but he could do his part, his small piece. He could walk her from here to the car, from the car to the plane, and from the plane to the car that would take them to the hospital.
"I know you're not, but we have to go now. I'm right here, Whitney, I'm going to stay with you until we get there." He gave her a quick hug, pulling back half way so that one arm was still around her. He let it settle in the small of her back and gave her a gentle sort of push forward. "Come on, you can tell me what you know in the car, and we can try again to get ahold of someone."
There wasn't much to tell, but once they had gotten downstairs and inside the car, she repeated Bridgette's message word for word, then proceeded through her systematic dialing of all family numbers in her phone. Not even an answer at the house, which was the most frustrating of all, as one of several staff members should have been close to at least one extension to answer her call. That they weren't made her feel panicky, so much at one point she put her head between her knees in the car until the light-headed fluttery feeling had passed.
"This is insane," she said, the words muffled by fabric.
Phillip listened attentively as Whitney relayed Bridgette's message, and watched her once again go through her method of dialing everyone. Something just wasn't right, he though as his mind mirrored hers for a moment. SOMEONE would be there at her house, whether it was friend or family or one of the staff. Not all of them would be at the hospital.
Pulling out his own phone, he called his secretary. Helen was an effecient woman who was like a grandmother to him, and if anyone could be trusted with so delicate a matter as this one, it was her. Thankfully she answered her own home phone quickly and assured him that she would personally drive to the de Winter residence and inform him of what she found.
"My secretary's on her way." He rested his hand on Whitney's back, rubbing back and fort awkwardly as he tried to figure out what else to say to make it better. "She'll figure it out."
Taking her phone out of the pocket of the wrongly-button shirt, she proceeded to once more dial the numbers of all relevant cell phones and house phones with no response. Frustrated again even while realizing there were possibly legitimate reasons not all of them could answer phones right now, she tucked away the phone again and rubbed at her eyes with the backs of her hands. She had to keep it together for now.
When Phillip spoke a moment later, there was a slight reaction of surprise, as she had, well not forgotten him, but she had been focused elsewhere again.
"Right." She rose from the chair and started toward the door, then looked down at her bare feet. "I need shoes. And a coat."
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"Come here." he said quietly, his fingers working quickly, in an almost businesslike way as he unbuttoned the shirt and then rebuttoned it correctly. It wasn't as though he had not seen her nude before, and right no he didn't know that she was capable of it given the circumstances. He knew that he wouldn't be. "It's going to be fine." He smoothed his hand over her shoulders, making the shirt lay right on her. Perhaps, he thought, he should encourage her to change out of the pajama pants as well, but they looked comfortable and they DID have a flight to catch. Deciding on a middle ground of sorts he grabbed a coat for her from atop a pile of clothing and helped her into it as well. It wasn't that he thought her incapable, rather, it was that he thought her attention should rightfully be focused elsewhere. He grabbed what looked like a comfortable pair of pants just in case, as there would be room in the company jet if she chose to change there. "There are your shoes..." he pointed out the first pair of non-heeled shoes that he could see both mates for.
"Ready?"
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Once shod, she looked up at him and then gave him a weak sort of half shrug. "No." He hadn't been asking if she was ready to go do this, only if she was ready to go, but it was all the same.
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"I know you're not, but we have to go now. I'm right here, Whitney, I'm going to stay with you until we get there." He gave her a quick hug, pulling back half way so that one arm was still around her. He let it settle in the small of her back and gave her a gentle sort of push forward. "Come on, you can tell me what you know in the car, and we can try again to get ahold of someone."
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"This is insane," she said, the words muffled by fabric.
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Pulling out his own phone, he called his secretary. Helen was an effecient woman who was like a grandmother to him, and if anyone could be trusted with so delicate a matter as this one, it was her. Thankfully she answered her own home phone quickly and assured him that she would personally drive to the de Winter residence and inform him of what she found.
"My secretary's on her way." He rested his hand on Whitney's back, rubbing back and fort awkwardly as he tried to figure out what else to say to make it better. "She'll figure it out."
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