Ina was my employee. My assistant. She was also young and beautiful and way too naive. The smart thing would be to talk to Norma about moving her to a different department. Norma had been asking for an assistant for months. Ina would be perfect for the role. It would be a lateral move, no loss of pay or prestige. And it would put a comfortable distance between us.
Problem solved.
Except the thought of not seeing her every day made me feel empty. I pulled up Norma’s calendar, stared at it for a solid minute, then closed the window without scheduling a meeting.
I couldn’t transfer her before the shoot on Friday. If we were going to sell a love story to the camera, I couldn’t have the woman looking at me like she wanted to murder me.
After the shoot, Ina would be moved far from my office and from me.
CHAPTER 5
INA
Iknew something was wrong the second I walked into the apartment and heard the sounds of cabinet doors being opened and slammed shut with increasing desperation.
“Abby?” I called, dropping my bag by the door and toeing off my shoes.
“Kitchen,” came the response, except it sounded less like a word and more like a frog being strangled.
I found my roommate standing in front of our open cabinets staring at the shelves as if she was waiting for some magical ingredient to materialize. Her dark hair was falling out of its usual neat bun, her face was flushed an alarming shade of red, and she was shivering despite the fact that our ancient radiator was working overtime.
“Oh my God, Abby.”
“I’m fine,” she croaked, then immediately started coughing. The woman sounded like an old man who’d been smoking for eighty years.
“You are the opposite of fine.” I guided her away from the cabinets and toward our threadbare couch. The couch she’d found on the street corner when she first moved into theapartment. The poor thing had been disinfected within an inch of its life. “Sit. Now.”
She collapsed onto the cushions without argument, which told me exactly hownotfine she was. Abby Canton was the most stubborn person I’d ever met. She was a native New Yorker who’d been working in restaurant kitchens since she was sixteen, and she had opinions about everything, and of course, her opinions were always correct. She never admitted weakness.
The fact that she was sitting without protest meant she was near dying.
“I just need some cold medicine,” she mumbled, her eyes already drooping closed. “Then I can go to work.”
“Absolutely not.” I pressed the back of my hand to her forehead and immediately pulled it back. “Abby, you’re burning up. You’re not going anywhere except urgent care.”
“Can’t afford urgent care. Cheaper to die.”
“Good thing we’re about to commit some light insurance fraud then.”
That got her eyes open. “What?”
I was already pulling out my phone, navigating to my insurance app. “I have health insurance through Cupid’s Arrow. You don’t. So congratulations. For the next few hours, you’re Ina Lavin, executive assistant, and I’m just your very concerned friend who’s taking you to get medical attention.”
“That’s illegal.”
“So is going to work in a restaurant kitchen with whatever plague you’re currently incubating.” I found the nearest urgent care that was still open and grabbed an Uber. “We can debate the ethics later. Right now, I need you to not die on our couch because I can’t afford to fumigate this thing again. And I’m not strong enough to drag your dead body to the trash chute. So there will be no dying on my watch.”
Despite looking like she had one foot in the grave, Abby managed a weak laugh. “You’re a terrible influence.”
“I’m a Midwestern girl with a can-do attitude and a complete inability to watch my friends suffer. Now come on. The Uber’s three minutes away.”
Getting Abby down five flights of stairs while she alternated between shivering and sweating was an adventure I never wanted to repeat. By the time we made it to street level and into the waiting car, I was pretty sure we both needed medical attention.
The driver took one look at Abby and hit the gas. I had no doubt in my mind the little can of Lysol I spotted in the passenger seat was going to be emptied after we got out of the car.
The urgent care waiting room wasn’t too busy. A few coughing babies, a guy holding his bandaged hand, and a kid in an ice hockey uniform with a missing boot and a purple foot.
I got Abby checked in using my insurance information, then settled into the chair next to her while we waited.
