“Your elephant phase?” Rory’s eyes sparkled with fresh energy.
I groaned because I hadn’t intended to reveal that little factoid. “The Oregon Zoo had a new baby elephant when I was six. I spent the next several years wanting to know absolutely everything about elephants.”
“That’s adorable.”
“When I get into something, I tend to get…obsessed,” I admitted, but Rory nodded supportively.
“Which isn’t a bad thing.”
“It is when it’s two a.m. and you’re mid-deep dive on a character actor you saw on a single episode of a new show,” I countered, head going swimmy from the effort of keeping upwith this conversation. My stomach clenched uncomfortably. I really should have eaten far sooner.
“Relatable.” Rory was nothing if not determined to keep the conversation rolling. “What show?”
“A…” The name of the show fled on a wave of dizziness. “From that writer… Am…Ambrose. Something.”
I rubbed my temples as my head pounded.
“You don’t look so good.” Rory patted the floor next to him again. “Sit before you topple over. Please.”
“Thought I was hot.” Giving into my wobbly knees, I lowered myself to sit. “And I’ll be better after I eat. Low blood sugar.”
“You have hypoglycemia?” Rory peered at me with far more concern. I hated worrying him, but I was rapidly going from hungry to emergency.
“Type 1 diabetes.”
“Now you tell me.” Rory rose on his knees to press the emergency call button again. “Hey, Sonya, any ETA on that rescue? We’ve got a situation.”
Chapter Three
Rory
“What sort of situation?” Sonya remained unflappable as she answered my summons.
“My coworker here is a type 1 diabetic.” I glanced at Marshall, who was way paler now with a visible tremor in his hands. “He’s not doing well.” I couldn’t keep the remorse out of my tone. I should have seen the warning signs sooner and might have had I not been preoccupied with my crush. “We need that rescue ASAP.”
“I’ll be okay,” Marshall mumbled next to me, head falling back against the elevator wall.
“The Mount Hope Fire Department is en route along with an ambulance,” Sonya reported. “Hang in there.”
“I don’t need an ambulance.” Marshall firmed his voice like someone with a lot of experience with pretending to be okay, but his chalky pallor said otherwise.
“Yeah, you do.” I could be equally stern.
“I’m patching you over to 911 dispatch for more instructions on how you can help your friend,” Sonya said.Friendwas likely pushing it as I doubted Marshall would claim me as a friend.Before I could check Marshall’s reaction, the line crackled again with a new voice, this one male and southern.
“911 here. This is Troy. Do you have any medications or rescue glucose with you, sir?”
“No. I was headed out to lunch.” Voice sounding defeated, Marshall shut his eyes. “And already hungry and not thinking right. God, I was stupid. And now I can’t even access the app on my phone to see what my continuous monitor says my levels are at. Something’s clearly up with the monitor, the pump, or both. I was too distracted by court this morning to notice.”
“Hey now, no beating yourself up.” I nudged him with my shoulder.
“Do either of you have any food with you?” Troy asked.
“I do.” No way was I withholding that information with Marshall’s life on the line. “I brought my lunch.”
“But you said…” Marshall trailed off as I fished my small lunch container out of my bag.
“I lied. I’m sorry. I just really wanted to have lunch with you. But I’ve got an almond butter sandwich with some jam. My dad makes the bread and the jam… Sorry. I’m rambling again.”
