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Now that we were back in Navesink Bank, that would become abundantly clear to everyone.
But if there was nothing starting between us, why the hell did that last thought make my stomach twist?
Christ.
I just needed my own bed, some food, some space, to get back to the distraction that was work.
Then it would all get back to normal.
Or, at least, that was what I wanted to believe.SEVENKateAs expected, my mother was damn near ready to put up Missing Persons posters. Even after getting a call from Fiona who was instructed to do so by Rush.
She came over to my apartment, pressing me for details as I took care of my plants, as I cleaned up my already clean apartment, as I put my worn clothes in the laundry bin, as I made tea, fretted about not having any cakes or cookies to go with it.
"Kate," my mom said, sighing, jumping up to grab my shoulders as I tried to move past her for the tenth time in two minutes. "Stop," she demanded. "Tell me what is going on."
"Nothing. I was just, you know, trapped in the woods for a few days. I'm frazzled."
"You know something that I always loved about you?"
"What?"
"You are a terrible liar. It made parenting you so much easier. I like to think it is because you have such a good moral compass, that every cell in your body rejects being dishonest. It's a good quality. But, I imagine, it sucks as an adult," she said, eyes warm. "When you want to kindly tell your old mother to mind her own business."
"I wouldn't say that to you," I insisted, shaking my head.
"Look, honey, I know you were stuck there with that guy from work. I just want you to know that if anything happened, if he hurt you... you can talk to me."
"He didn't... he wouldn't. It was just... it was confusing. And I need some time to compartmentalize it, maybe work through it with my therapist. It's nothing, really."
"Nothing, but you look exhausted and pale."
"I'm actually just feeling run down," I admitted. And I was. I figured it was the travel, the bad night of sleep, the mental and emotional gymnastics.
As the night became a new day, though, I woke up with a raging fever and a head cold.
One small plane.
Hundreds of people.
Millions of germs.
It was inevitable.
I called out of work, ordered groceries and medicine to my door, and took to the bed.
I couldn't tell you if my body or my soul was more tired, all I knew was that once I fell into the bed, I didn't think I surfaced from it—or sleep—for a full sixteen hours.
And then only doing so because there was an insistent buzzing from the intercom, followed by a knocking at my door.
On a grumble, I wrapped myself in my fluffiest robe, making my way to the door, finding Fee through the peephole.
"I'm a shitty boss, a terrible matchmaker, but I make a pretty decent friend," she told me through the door. "I brought provisions," she added as I slid the lock, pulling the door open.
There was Fee with her multitude of amazing tattoos, her form-fitting, flawless coppery sweater dress and five-inch icepick heels, carrying a big basket. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen someone so effortlessly put together at all times like Fiona was. And she always paired whatever outfit she had on with this impressive sheen of confidence.
"Oh," she said, cringing at my robe, slippers, my red, puffy nose, my glassy eyes. "You're like sick-sick."
"That's, ah, you know, why I called in sick."
"I thought you were bullshitting. I thought you were, like heart sick or something," she said, placing the basket on my dining table, reaching into it, pulling out items. "I guess the chocolate and the vibrators still come in handy. I should have included some soup or something, though. Oh, hey, this will be good," she decided, producing a bath bomb. "I thought I grabbed the rose one, but it's the eucalyptus. Will clear all that gunk out," she said, waving at my head.
"Thank you," I told her, touched more than I knew I could be over the care package. Aside from my mother, I'd never gotten one before. I never knew someone who cared enough to go to the store, find a basket, and stuff it with things they thought would make me feel better.
"Don't thank me. Like I said, I'm a shitty boss and a terrible matchmaker. I'm sorry I made you go to the cabin and got you sick."
"Why did you?" I asked, knowing Rush said I would have to ask her what was going on when I saw her next instead of telling me himself, something that had been nagging at me ever since.
"Okay. Here is the long and short of it," she said, pulling out a chair, sitting down, patting the space across from her. "I was going over the books a few weeks ago," she started. Even though she trusted me, I knew she was the kind of boss to pay almost anal attention to detail. For A Good Time, Call... was her baby. It was something she'd built from the ground-up, back when she had been a one-woman operation, one of the voices on the phone instead of the boss. "I found something interesting," she went on, choosing her words carefully, her tone getting a little tense, making my stomach flip-flop. If Fiona was tense, something was really not good. "About Rush's line," she clarified.
