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I laughed softly. “Nothing. None of that. I just have to take care of some things here. I’ll still be working from home, but I won’t be as available as normal.”
“I’m concerned. I don’t think you’ve taken a day off in three years, Jordan.”
I sighed, realizing I was going to have to give her something. This was unusual for me. And I wouldn’t put it past Morgan to come over here and find out if I was really okay. She was that kind of boss. Really, the best kind.
“It’s not me. Annie…she had a rough shift at the hospital. I don’t feel comfortable leaving her.”
Morgan softened immediately. “I’m so sorry. Is she going to be okay? Anything I can do?”
“She’ll be okay. She just needs some time.”
“Give her my best.”
“I will. Thanks, Mor.”
We hung up the phone, and I got to work.
“Hey,” a voice said hoarsely from the doorway.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. I’d been in so deep on the soccer complex project that I didn’t even hear footsteps. I glanced up at Annie, who looked a wreck but…settled. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
She shrugged. “I’ve been better. What are you doing here? It’s three in the afternoon. Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“I called out.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I told Morgan that I couldn’t come in. I hope you don’t mind that I told her you were having a rough day. She worries.”
“It’s fine,” she said softly. “But…you called out of work? You never do that.”
“No. I don’t think I’ve called out of work…ever. Yeah, maybe ever.”
Her mouth opened slightly. “Then, why did you do it today?”
“I was worried about you. I knew that you were going to be sleeping…or at least, I hoped you would sleep. But I wanted to be here in case you needed me.”
“That’s very considerate.” She fidgeted with her claddagh ring, turning it around and around. “I guess I should go. I haven’t eaten or anything, and I have work and…”
“How about this?” I said, pushing away from my desk and coming to stand before her. “How about we go to Rosa’s and get some margaritas and queso? Tacos are good recovery food.”
She looked at me to see if there was a catch to it. “I don’t know how to say no to that.”
I laughed. “Then don’t.”
“Okay. Margs and queso and tacos it is.”
I tried to keep a self-satisfied smile off of my face as she darted back into the bedroom to change. I absolutely wanted to make sure that she was okay. I was worried about her. But taking her out for Mexican was definitely a date. Whether she wanted to admit it or not.
She came back out in distressed jeans and a sweater. Her red hair pulled back into a messy bun. No makeup. She was stunning. “All right. I’m ready.”
We took my Tesla to the restaurant, which was completely dead. Most people had already eaten lunch, and it wasn’t quite time for dinner. It was more like breakfast for Annie, but she accepted the frozen margarita with extra salt on the rim and extra limes with a smile. We ate our weight in queso and chips before tacos even arrived.
“I appreciate this,” she said, just a little bit tipsy from our second margarita.
“Mexican food?”
She laughed gingerly, as if it still hurt to move her face like that. “For Mexican food and the run and the shower and taking the day off—all of it. I know that I don’t really deserve any of this from you.”
“Oh?”
She flinched. “Well, what went down at Walkers and then that picture I sent you.” She looked up at me hesitantly. “It was supposed to go to Jennifer. And it didn’t mean anything. I mean, Cord, the guy in the picture, and I…nothing happened.”
“That’s good to hear,” I admitted. “I thought you might have sent it as a reminder of the line you had drawn.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t…” She sighed heavily and took another sip of her margarita. “I’m not seeing anyone else.”
“Right, because you’re leaving in a few months.”
“Right,” she muttered. “That reason. And also…because of you.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Annie, are you saying that we’re dating?”
“No!” she said automatically.
I laughed. “We’re just exclusive and friends with benefits?”
“Well,” she said, her face turning red, “I’m not seeing anyone else.”
“Me either,” I told her and took her hand across the table. She looked down at it for a second and then twined our fingers together. “What are you doing Sunday?”
She scrunched up her face. “I don’t know. Maybe working?”
“Still overnights?”
She nodded. “For the foreseeable future.”
“Jensen is throwing a Super Bowl party because the Chiefs are playing, and everyone in this town loves Patrick Mahomes since he went to Texas Tech. Do you have any interest in going?”
“Sutton mentioned it. I was planning to go if I didn’t have to work. I think I can make it.”
