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“Watch it, Daniel. Pressing the deliciousness that is your body against an under-sexed woman is a dangerous endeavor.” His sharp intake of breath alerts me that my words are so far beyond inappropriate, they deserve a category of their own. “This is the Benadryl talking, by the way.” Ah, brilliant. Brilliant. I couldn’t have found a better scapegoat if I tried. Whatever happens while I’m under its influence cannot be held against me. Considering I’m seeing Daniel as if there’s a foggy window between us, I’m not even making this up.
“Don’t worry about anything, okay? The kids are in good hands. Honor and Marcel are pros.”
“He asked me out,” I find myself saying. “At breakfast, he asked me out.”
“Marcel?”
“Yeah.”
“What did you say?”
I blink twice, trying to clear my vision. No such luck. “Why does it matter?”
Is it my imagination, or has Daniel gone rigid next to me?
“Don’t go out with him. Please! I know I have no right, but please don’t go out with an employee of mine.” He’s gone very still. “I’m close to them, and when we go out after work they bring their spouses or significant others, and I couldn’t watch you with him.”
My heart hammers so wildly, I feel like it will jump out of my chest any second now. My mind spins, and it’s not just from the Benadryl. At least I don’t think so. My vision is so foggy I can’t see past the tip of my nose, but my mind is clear. I’m not imagining this, or projecting. First he took care of my father, now this....
Gathering my courage around me, I ask in a small voice, “You care?”
“Of course I care. I’ve always cared.”
He cradles me in his arms, and l feel something warm on my forehead—his lips. Then sleep pulls me under.
Chapter Six
Daniel
Pushing myself on an elbow, I watch her drift to sleep. Her breathing pattern seems normal, but I’m still worried. She scared me down in the restaurant: the way she slurred her words, lost her balance. She shifts her position, tossing and turning until her head is dangling off the pillow at such a weird angle, she’ll get a neck strain if she sleeps like that. As carefully as possible, I shove the pillow back under her head, but then Caroline shifts again, turning on one side, grabbing my hand and placing it between the pillow and her head.
I smile. She used to do this all the time when we were together: monopolize my hand, then my entire body, sleeping on me, claiming I was the best pillow. I gladly endured the hardship of her climbing me in her sleep. I’d loved feeling her soft breath on my skin. When she wasn’t hogging me, she was thrashing in the bed. She’d been a messy sleeper. I wonder if she still is.
I contemplate the best way to free my hand without waking her, but when she sighs and lays a hand on my wrist, I give up. I’ll stay just a little longer. Just a few more seconds.
She shifts even closer to me. I can’t move away because I’m right on the edge of the bed. A whiff of her perfume reaches me, something floral, but not jasmine, which was what she’d worn when we were together.
But jasmine or no jasmine, she’s still the same sweet woman I fell for in college. She’s still the one person who spends as much time hovering around her family as I do around mine. She still loves the same simple things she did then: great food, great books. I bet she still binge-watches TV shows in the evenings.
Seeing her in my bed brings back so many memories. A truth I haven’t allowed myself to think hits me hard. I miss her.
But the only sensible thing to do at the moment is to climb out of this bed, which I do, extracting my hand from under her head carefully.
Standing at the end of the bed, I ponder what to do next. I knew she was allergic to peanuts, but I haven’t seen the allergy in action before on her. She looks all right, but I don’t want to leave her unsupervised. What if she gets worse?
I debate for all of two seconds before reaching a decision. I step out of the room to call Honor and Marcel and inform them of the next steps.
“Wait, I’ll put you on loudspeaker so Marcel can hear you too,” Honor says. “How is Caroline feeling?”
“Better, but she’s asleep, so she won’t join you for now at least.”
“No problem,” Marcel says. I grip the phone harder, remembering he had the guts to ask her out.
“I’m staying with her until she wakes up. If that doesn’t happen until the next clients arrive, you take care of everything.”
There is silence for a few seconds, and then Honor asks hesitantly, “Are you sure?”
“They’re looking forward to meeting you,” Marcel puts in.
