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Back at the penthouse, I got into a fresh suit, wincing when I saw myself in the mirror. My skin was still worryingly pale, almost translucent, and my eyes had huge, dark shadows under them. I put on make-up but I still looked half-dead. “How do I look?” I asked JD.
“Beautiful,” he said sincerely, putting his hands on my waist and pulling me close. “But you shouldn’t be working.”
“I’ve got to do this,” I told him. “Then I’ll take a break, promise.”
Downstairs, I’d asked all the hundreds of people who worked in our New York office to gather on one floor. The ones who worked in offices around the world were watching on a video link.
I stood at the front of the crowd and took a deep breath. These were our workers, our family. It was heartbreaking.
I told them that we’d be filing for bankruptcy tomorrow. That I’d tried everything and that there was nothing more I could do. That I was sorry.
Some people cursed. Some started to cry. I saw people looking at friends they’d worked with for years, knowing they were going to have to move to a different state or a different country to find another job. That they might not find another job at all.
“Now take a break,” JD told me.
“I will,” I said. “But I’ve got to tell the others. They should hear it from me.”
Danny drove us to the hospital construction site and I spoke to the workers there. Then we drove to Hudson Tower and I did the same again. As we walked back to the car, it hit me that I’d just made three speeches in one day. I couldn’t have done this a few weeks ago.
Then my head went floaty and I tripped over my own feet. JD caught me, his big hands warm on my waist. “You’re taking a break,” he told me. “And getting something to eat. There’s a diner right over there.”
I nodded. “Just let me make some phone calls, then I’ll—”
“Lorna,” said JD in a voice like iron, “now. I’ll hogtie you and carry you if I have to.”
He stared down at me, worried and smoldering and stern and I just melted. I nodded meekly and he steered me across the street.
The whole block was pretty run down, with a hotel that looked like it had been shuttered for years, an apartment building and a small garage. But in the middle of it all was an old-fashioned, art deco diner, all polished chrome and curved glass. JD marched me to a booth, slid me along the vinyl seat to the wall and then sat down next to me so I couldn’t escape. “You’re not moving until you’ve had something to eat,” he told me. And I decided to just let myself be taken care of.
Danny, Colton, Gabriel, Kian and Cal were there, too, and it was like a small army of big guys in suits had invaded the place. We took over two booths and started ordering. It was already late afternoon but none of us had had a chance to eat breakfast or lunch so we wound up ordering a massive brunch from their all-day menu. Tall glasses of orange juice and huge plates of crumbling, golden waffles, topped with salty bacon and drowned in maple syrup. Eggs sunny-side-up basking on beds of crunchy whole wheat toast slathered with butter. Bowls of granola, still warm from the oven, sticky with melted sugar and topped with velvety, slowly-sliding spoonfuls of yogurt which in turns was topped with strawberries and blueberries. And coffee. Big mugs of strong coffee, refilled each time a waitress passed by. I ate, surprised at how hungry I was. And gradually, I started to feel better.
An hour later, JD walked me down the stairs of the diner. His arm was around my waist and he snuggled me protectively to his side. It was coming up to noon and it was a pleasantly warm day. Behind me, Danny was talking to Cal about how Cal’s girlfriend, Bethany, was doing in med school. “She’s acing it,” rumbled Cal. “I miss her during the week, but it’s not so bad. I got Rufus, and lots of work on the house to keep me busy. Got that bench finished now, we sit out on that and watch the sunrise when she’s home. Might make a new henhouse, next.”
It was a happy moment. As we reached the final step, I glanced down at myself…and winced. There was a big splodge of ketchup on my blouse right between my breasts. I touched it, but it wasn’t wet. Then the red moved, sliding downwards. “JD?” I asked, worried I was hallucinating. He turned to look. Then he threw himself against me just as a shot rang out.
44
JD
My brain knew what it was straight away: the red dot of a sniper’s laser sight. But all that worrying about her health, followed by the long, happy brunch, had made me slip from bodyguard mode into boyfriend mode. It took me a full second to react and I knew that was too slow. Even as I felt myself start to move, I was wincing, waiting for the shot.
