The conversation died as each sat, lost in his own thoughts and worries. After a few minutes, Finn asked Branson the question that had been on his mind all weekend. “How was the dinner party Saturday night?”
“Great. You missed some good steaks.”
“That’s it—rub it in. First you invite me. Then you uninvite me. Then you torture me by describing the food I missed.”
Cole piped in. “I already told you the food was good.”
Branson managed a hint of a smile. “Ellie was excited to be there and see Laurie. I appreciate you giving up your spot for her.”
“Did Laurie… did she say anything about me?”
“Nope.”
“Nothing at all?”
“She didn’t even mention you. At least, not to me.”
“Okay.” Finn couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad. At least she didn’t complain about him. “I’m kind of surprised.”
Cole lifted his hand. “Uhmm… excuse me. Did I miss something? Is there some reason Laurie should be talking about you? Did you give her such a hard time she wants to quit?”
“No, we’re fine.” Finn took another sip of coffee, shuddering as he swallowed.
Finn thought he’d closed the subject, but Cole persisted. “I’m set to finish the shareholders’ report by Wednesday, and I could take over the LA fundraiser. I wasn’t planning to stay in New York past Friday, but this…” His gaze shifted around the stark waiting room. “This changes everything.”
“Are you sure you’ll be able to clear your schedule?” Branson asked.
“I will. This is my priority.”
Finn made a quick decision. He had the Laurie-thing under control now that they’d defined their friend-relationship. For some reason, he no longer wanted Cole to take his place. He must be feeling possessive about the job. “I’ll stay on the fundraiser. You can cover Jarrett’s other projects.”
“What about R&D? Don’t you have a new game release in a month?” Cole lifted the coffee to his lips and drank, pursing his lips.
“I’ll get it done. It’s not like I have a social life.”
“That’s true.” Cole chuckled. Then his smile faded as the room got quiet again. The sound of a dinging elevator echoed down the corridor. “Can I just ask—is anyone besides me scared?”
“I am,” Finn confirmed.
“I won’t let Jarrett know,” Branson said, “but, yes, I’m scared. I’ve looked at the stats and wish I hadn’t.”
“All we can do is pray.” Finn took a large gulp of his bitter brew, as if he were somehow sharing in Jarrett’s suffering.
“Jarrett’s mother is coming to stay with him.” Bran stretched and yawned, covering his mouth with his hand.
“Maybe he’d rather have one of his buddies with him,” Cole suggested.
“Of the three of us, I’m probably the most nurturing,” Bran remarked. “And I’m not all that impressive. I think he’s better off with his mother.”
“Isn’t she old, though?” Cole took another sip from his cup, his face contorting.
“I think she’s in her sixties.” Bran checked the time on his Braille watch, prompting Finn to look at the clock on the wall. 3:25 p.m. According to the surgeon who’d just given them a report, Jarrett was in recovery and would be in a room by 4:00.
“Same age as my mum,” Finn commented. “Jarrett said she lifts weights and runs marathons. I guess she can handle it.”
“Wonder why she isn’t here, now,” Cole mumbled.
“Probably because Jarrett told her it was only a biopsy.” Finn tried gulping the coffee, hoping to skip over the taste buds that detected bitterness on the back of his tongue. It didn’t work.
“He said she’s flying in today.” Bran rubbed his eyes. “Cole, I think I’ve changed my mind. If you don’t mind getting another one, I do want a cup of coffee.”
“No, you don’t,” Finn and Cole said, in unison.
Exhausted, Finn and Cole arrived back in New York, walking into the penthouse apartment like zombies. Finn set his alarm an hour later than usual, opting to skip his morning workout. But when morning came, he barely dragged himself out of bed to start his morning therapy. His coughing had woken him up all during the night, and after an hour of treatment to loosen the mucous, it seemed he couldn’t manage to clear his chest.
He continued his morning routine, still coughing, and an hour later found Cole at the breakfast table, practically asleep over a bowl of cereal.
“Morning.” Finn’s first word of the day set off another coughing fit. “Sorry,” he managed, between coughs.
“You had a rough night, huh?”
“You could hear me coughing?” Finn pushed the button to make a fresh cup of coffee.
“Only when I went down the hall to get a drink of water. Believe me, I fell right back to sleep.”
“Yeah, I don’t feel too good. Not surprising, after yesterday.”
