loan repayment.
The nausea came again in a giant wave.
Perhaps she should call their bookkeeper. Shit, he was in Machu fucking Picchu. She could go through the books online thanks to the software package the bookkeeper used, see if there were any notations there as to what the checks were for.
On autopilot, she walked to her car and got inside. She rolled the windows down, the only thing she could do to ease the trapped feeling constricting her chest like iron around a barrel. The drive took her half an hour, longer than usual due to traffic, and she had only fleeting memories of the thirty minutes when she parked in front of her home and stepped into the house at five o’clock.
With what was left of her energy, she collapsed on the couch. Her head had started to pound, but the painkillers were in the kitchen, which was a step too far away.
Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply, letting the scent of the lavender from the planter on the side table soothe her, the peace and quiet drift over her. The throbbing started to subside, a blessed relief. Emerson pulled on the throw from the back of the sofa and snuggled beneath it.
It was wrong to act like an ostrich, to bury her head in the sand. But for a moment she needed to feel scared, to feel uncertain of what to do next. Certainly, there was a risk she would fall asleep and wake up at some ungodly hour with her hair stuck to the side of her face, but she couldn’t bring herself to move.
When she finally opened her eyes, it took Emerson a moment to figure out where she was. Wrapped in the crocheted blankets like a mummy, she fought to get her arms free and push the blanket from her head.
Her head.
Oh, halle-fucking-lujia. The pounding had gone, leaving her with a dry mouth and a rumbling stomach.
Once free of the blanket, she stood, wobbling a little at first, as her body fought the decision to move, and then went to grab her phone from her purse.
7:45 p.m.
No wonder she felt as groggy as all heck.
With squinting eyes, she scrolled through her notifications as she wandered to the kitchen. While a part of her wanted to just stumble to bed, now that she was awake, she became aware of just how hungry she was.
Brazil nuts, that’s what she could—
Her heart skipped a beat.
A message from Connor.
Hey. I’m at the restaurant. We said 7:30, right? Is everything okay?
Shit. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair was everything she’d expected it to be. Slightly sweaty and stuck to the side of her head. It would take ages to get herself cleaned up, and then the drive.
She couldn’t face it. Even for Connor.
I’m really sorry, but I’m not going to make it. Can we rain check?
Dots bounced on her screen, then stopped.
Her phone rang.
Connor.
For a moment, she debated letting it go to voicemail, but he knew she had her phone with her, so she answered.
“Hey, Connor.”
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he asked immediately.
He could tell. Why hadn’t she thought of a response before she’d answered? She should have let the damn call go to voicemail. “I’m fine, I just…you know, work. And things came up and—”
“Where are you? Still at the distillery?” His voice was a mix of stern and concern. It warmed her otherwise chilled heart.
“No. I’m at home. I got some news I wasn’t expecting. It was…”
“I’m on my way.”
There had been a waver to her voice. An uncertainty that didn’t belong there and had him worried. He was secure enough in the way they had left things on Tuesday and the messages in between that she wasn’t trying to blow him off.
And he wanted to fix whatever was wrong as a result.
She’d given him her address when he’d insisted on getting a ride for her when they’d left the distillery on Tuesday. He’d decided to walk home, partly because it had been a lovely evening and he’d spent most of the day inside, and partly because liquor and pizza wasn’t really a part of his fitness plan, certainly not on a Tuesday.
But he’d loved every minute of it.
He left his seat at the bar of the restaurant and wandered into the kitchens.
“Finch. What do you want? I’m working. Thought you were front of house tonight with some bird.”
Connor watched Charles check off an order against the dishes waiting to be served and laughed