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Why he would be so desperate for an overpriced T-shirt with some guy’s logo on it? I don’t know. But here we are.
Adam shakes his head. “You need to be her hands and feet. If she leaves that couch again, I’m docking your pay.”
“That’s child labor exploitation, Adam.”
He opens his mouth, but before he can scold me, there’s a knock on the door. Adam goes to see who it is and arrives a moment later with Dejonae in tow.
I’m stunned to see her. “Hey.”
“Hi.” She’s carrying a mug in her hands. Her dark eyes go straight to my foot. “I heard from Niko that you got hurt.”
“From Niko?” My jaw slackens.
“Yes, Rowan told her.” Dejonae nods to the eleven year old.
I point a scolding look on him.
Rowan gives me a big, nervous smile. “Was this supposed to be a secret?”
I’ll deal with you later, Rowan.
“I brought you chai latte.” Dejonae winks. “It can’t cure a swollen ankle, but it can pretty much do everything else.”
My lips curl up and I leak a smile. “Thank you, but there was no need. I’m almost one hundred percent recovered.”
There’s another knock on the door.
“Who’s that?” Adam murmurs.
Dejonae whirls around. “Oh, did I forget to mention? The other ladies wanted to stop by too.”
“Other ladies?” I croak.
Adam glances at me before moving to the door.
When he opens it, Vanya, Sunny, Kenya and Dawn come pouring through. They’re each holding something to present to me like powerful fairies at a coronation ball.
“We heard you weren’t feeling well,” Vanya says, pouting when she sees my foot that’s wrapped in bandages. “How’s the patient?”
“I’m fine.”
“‘I’m fine’ is Nova’s theme song,” Adam says. “She’s got a swollen ankle and a few lacerations. The doctor said she should stay off her foot until tomorrow. And no heels for another week.”
“The doctor’s a quack. I’m never giving up my heels,” I fire back.
Dawn laughs. “I can’t relate tothat,but I did bring you some chicken soup. Beth swears it’s the only dish of mine that she can actually consume.”
“You can put it in the kitchen,” Adam directs her like an airplane marshal waving a plane into position.
“I brought tortillas,” Sunny says, lifting an expertly wrapped cloth. I can smell the floury goodness from here and it makes my stomach grumble.
“Kitchen.” Adam points in that direction.
“I brought a few of our best-selling books,” Kenya says. “In case you get bored.”
“Let me get those.” Adam reaches for them and relieves her of the package. “They look heavy.”
“Thanks.” Kenya smiles at him.
