I don’t lie, I also don’t tell the complete truth, hoping he doesn’t pick it up in my voice.
“Get some medication then,” he snaps. Behind him I can hear people splashing in a pool, women squealing, and music playing.
“Okay,” I answer, resting my head on my bags.
I don’t say anything, what else is there to say. A coughing fit fills the awkward gap in our conversation. As soon as I stop again I go back to the call. “I might try to find a drug store here.”
“Have you told your parents?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, the irrational flash of anger has me clenching my jaw. He knows I can’t, or maybe he’sforgotten he put a block on my phone. Admittedly, I could have tried a payphone, but with my limited funds and energy, I didn’t.
“I expect an answer.”
Clearing my throat first, I settle my anger before responding. “No, I haven’t. I was waiting for you to call as I figured you’d relay to them how I was. My flight won’t leave for another few hours. I’ll see if I can get some flu tablets in the meantime. I’m not sure I’ll get to Unity today though, Brody, the airport keeps delaying flights because of the number of people here.”
“Jesus, Simona, I really can’t trust you to be responsible, can I?” he snaps, silencing me.
I’m happy to be quiet, but it doesn’t mean I’m conceding or giving in either. And I also don’t bite back to provoke him. Despite what he thinks, it’s not about avoiding a fight—it’s about knowing nothing I say or do will ever be right. So I protect myself first, rather than waste energy trying to appease him when I know it won’t work.
“What airport are you at?”
Again, I’m not surprised at all that he hasn’t been paying attention to my welfare.
“Denver,” I say quickly, covering my mouth to stifle a cough. He scoffs loudly in response.
“Denver,” he repeats. His tone is disbelieving. “You shouldn’t be there. What happened?”
“The captain said it was a technical issue. They landed at the closest airport, and we were put up overnight at the Meriton. The airline will be able to confirm, Brody.”
“Are you giving me attitude?”
“Not intentionally. I’m sick, I haven’t eaten all day and the airport is overwhelming. I just need to lie down. I apologize if it sounds like I’m giving you attitude.” I use his ownwords when I answer—not because I owe him an apology, but because I don’t need the added headache of him thinking I’m making a stressful situation worse.
“Go buy something to eat!”
I take a long inhale, trying to curtail my irritation—not that it will help. “I only have the money you gave me, and you said that had to last a week. I did check for food, but since it’s New Year’s Day, there’s a surcharge on everything for some reason. I’ll be okay. I just hope none of the airline staff notice I’m sick or start doing temperature checks—because if that happens, I have no idea what my options will be.”
“Sit there and don’t move,” he snaps, hanging up almost instantly.
I must be sicker than I thought because before I know it, I’m slumped against my bags, fast asleep in the middle of the crowded airport. I jolt awake when my phone rings, the sudden movement sending me back into another coughing fit. I fumble to answer, but I can’t even get out a hello.
“Go out the main entrance. Near the multi-level carpark, there’s a car service. I wired you the money. Don’t jump at the most expensive option—they’ll try to upsell you because it’s New Year’s Day and flights are diverting. They’ll say they only have towncars left, but I’m trusting you to be mindful of how much this is costing to get you to Unity. I’ll call you in a few hours.”
I move like a zombie, but the incentive outweighs how awful I feel. How I make it to the car service door is a blur, but somehow, I do. They’ve clearly been in contact with Brody because they don’t ask me to pay—they redirect me from the office to one of the cars. I wave off their apologies, understanding all too well how infectious I am. I follow the direction of their pointed fingers to a car, with its trunkalready open. Lifting my luggage drains what little energy I have left, and by the time I climb inside, I’m delirious. I collapse onto the back seat, too exhausted to care about anything else.
Chapter
Three
DOMINIC
Travelling commercial is a minefield given my dubious client list. I’m guilty by association according to some, but when you’re called to a meeting by Kozantine Siderno you don’t exactly have the luxury of declining. Not that I would. Besides being his lawyer, Koz is one of a few people I look forward to seeing outside of work. Friends we are not, but acquaintances work.
“Remind me, why did I say yes to dinner?” I grouse, and his throaty laugh echoes down the phone.
“How long will you be?”
“How long does it take to drive from Denver there?”
