“You’re busy, Stan,” I chided. “Don’t you have someone else who can take me to the hospital? Jesus, I’ll grab a cab?—”
That earned me the deadeye. “My woman doesn’t take cabs.”
I shot him a dopey smile. “That’s me, huh? Your woman?”
“You know it,liunissa.”
He pecked my temple, still cautious around touching me, and, I’d admit, I appreciated it.
Last night, he’d made me jump when getting out of the shower and I’d nearly slipped before he’d caught me. That was why he’d argued I shouldn’t go into work. My reaction times hovered around nil as I remained on edge.
He was right. I just didn’t like admitting it out loud.
When his cell buzzed again, he heaved an impatient sigh and hissed something in Sicilian, so I ordered, “Take your call. I’ll be back soon.”
He did as I requested, unhappily, after anointing my other temple with a kiss.
I stepped outside. A few doors down, I found Lauren hovering by the top of the stairs where she was, I assumed, pretending to dust.
She’d definitely get along great with Ma if they ever met.
“Hi, Lauren,” I greeted.
“Kitty! Oh, what a surprise, dear.” She shot me a wide smile. “How are you feeling today?”
“A little rough. Stan convinced me to head into the hospital where I work and tell them I need some time off.”
“Can’t he send someone to do that for you?” she asked, her concern clear. “You do look rather… battered, Kitty.”
“I kind of need to prove that to them,” was my dry retort. “I’ve already taken a lot of PTO this year, so it’s going to be a fight.”
“Isn’t Stan going with you?”
“He wanted to, but I told him not to.”
She clucked her tongue. “He’s very protective.” Definitely not a negative in her eyes. “You should take him with you. He’d make sure management let you have time off.”
“I have to work with these people, so I’d prefer him not to terrify them.” When her lips moued, I chuckled. “You know that’s how any conversation between him and my supervisor would go.”
“You’re not wrong, dear. I suppose you’re the reason Luigi’s been hovering outside the house for the past ten minutes?”
“I guess. Stan wanted me to take a driver and a guard. Between you and me, Lauren, I’m not looking forward to this.”
“Then you shouldn’t go.” Her concern doubled when I shook my head, only to wince—I’d done something to my neck and it still hurt. “Call Stan if you have any issues, Kitty. Promise me?”
“I will.” Touched by her care, I patted her arm. “Right, I’d best go.”
Each step was painful and I shuttered my eyes, hoping my expression remained blank as I accepted that Stan had been right about me needing to rest.
“Everything okay, dear?” Lauren called.
“Yeah,” I croaked. “Bit stiff.”
When she popped up beside me and let me put my weight on her, I thanked her.
“This is ridiculous,” she admonished, sounding unerringly like her son. “The labor laws in this country are horrendous.”
As she drifted into a diatribe about how Europe protected its workers, I focused more on not taking us both down the stairs for a quick tumble.
