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“Um, so, nothing is wrong wrong. Like, not seriously wrong. I just don’t feel so hot.”
“Are you sick?” I ask, hustling into my car.
“Well, considering I’ve been kneeling in front of a toilet for the past half hour, yeah, I think I might have come down with a little something. Maybe.”
“Shit. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Are you at work?”
There’s a faint, “Yeah.”
“All right. I’ll be right there.”
“Teddy, you don’t have to—”
“Kipp. I’ll be right there.”
He sighs, his tone much more light when he mumbles a teasing, “Yes, Daddy.”
I shake my head, fighting a smile. “Glad to see your humor is still intact.”
“It’s the one thing that hasn’t vacated my system,” Kipp says, deadpan.
I snort, even as my chest pangs in sympathy. “Hold tight. I’m on my way.”
Kipp mutters a sincere, “Thanks, Teddy,” and then the line goes dead.
I swing by a convenience store first, grabbing some anti-nausea meds, Gatorade, and saltine crackers. It doesn’t take long after that to arrive at Kipp’s office. What I’m not expecting is the immediate recognition from the stranger at the front desk.
“Oh my gosh!” the woman says, standing up and rushing toward me. “You’re Teddy.”
“Guilty,” I say, offering my hand.
She waves me off, pulling me in for a quick hug before linking her arm with mine. “Kipp’s office is just down this way. I’m so glad you’re finally here! We’ve been dying to meet you.”
“Is that so?” I ask in some amusement.
“Gosh, yes. Kipp is just the sweetest person—of course, I don’t have to tell you that. We’re all so happy he met the one.”
There’s that sting again, but I give the woman a smile as we enter what looks like a bullpen of sorts. There are desks scattered around, a few private offices with closed doors, a large copy machine, and a bulletin board that takes up an entire wall. It’s plastered in pictures of cats, of all things.
“Everyone,” the woman on my arm calls. “Teddy is here.”
Heads swivel our way, and before I know what’s happening, I’m surrounded by a good dozen people welcoming me and peppering me with questions. It’s an absolute whirlwind, and my first and foremost thought is that Kipp must fit in perfectly here.
It takes a couple minutes for the excitement to die down, but as soon as I’m able, I step away with the woman who first welcomed me. “Could you show me where the bathrooms are?” I ask her. “Kipp called me in because he’s not feeling well.”
“Oh no!” she says, looking around like she’s just now realizing he’s not with us. “The poor thing. Come on. Restrooms are right this way.”
She leads me down another hall, and when we arrive at the bathrooms, I knock on the only closed door. “Kipp?”
A few seconds later, the lock turns, and Kipp appears, looking pale and more disheveled than I’ve ever seen him. His hair is a mess, his shirt is wrinkled with one corner pulled free from his pants, and if I didn’t know better, I’d almost think he was drunk. Whatever he picked up, it clearly hit him hard.
“Sweetheart,” I murmur, stepping forward to wrap an arm around his waist.
“I’m kinda sweaty,” he says.
I kiss his damp forehead. “Don’t care. Come on. Let’s get you home.”
“Thanks, Teddy,” he mutters. When he sees his coworker in the hall, he gives her a weak smile. “Marsha, could you let Carly know I’m heading home early today?”
