Yelling her name made him cough, of course, but it got her attention. She waited for him as he jogged toward her, weaving between the teaming employees. By the time he reached her, he was short of breath like he’d spent an hour on the treadmill. Wheezing, he tried to come up with an excuse for chasing her down.
“I thought we might ride up together. I’ll catch you up on Jarrett.”
“I’ll be upstairs in a minute. I was headed to the ladies’ room. Gotta fix my hair.” She pointed to her dark curls, draped across her face.
As she turned to go, the hair shifted, revealing black under her eye. That’s why she was going to the ladies’ room—to hide a black eye.
He grabbed her arm before she could escape. “Wait, Laurie.” He leaned close to whisper, so no one would overhear. “Who did this to you? Did that guy find you?”
“Stop it. Nobody did anything to me.”
“I saw your black eye,” he insisted.
“Let me go.” She whipped around, covering her face with her hand, tugging against his grasp. “I smeared my makeup, that’s all.”
“I don’t believe you.” Another set of coughs wracked his body, and he felt dozens of curious eyes. He wanted to slip away before he attracted any more attention, but he was too worried about Laurie. As he was coughing, she wrenched out of his weakened grip. She was getting away from him, but there was nothing he could do. When his coughs finally subsided, he was surprised to find her standing in the same place.
“Are you sick?” Laurie asked from behind the hand covering her eyes.
“I’m fine.” He grabbed his thermos and drank, soothing his raw throat. “Tell me what happened to you.”
“Good grief, Finn. You’re so stubborn.” She pushed her hair away from her face and pointed to her eyes, encircled in smeared mascara. “Satisfied?”
He could only think of one thing. “Why were you crying?”
“It was nothing. An emotional phone call with my mother.”
“Oh.” His face burned. He’d made a fool of himself. “Okay… well… if you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.”
Her huge almond-shaped eyes appeared even larger, accentuated with smeared mascara. She made a point of rolling them around a few times. “Seriously, Finn. You’ve got to give this up. You are not one of my girlfriends. I’m not going to call you up and tell you my troubles while we bake cookies and eat an entire half-gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream.” She let her hair fall back across her face.
“I’m game for that.” With great effort Finn fought the desire to reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear. “Maybe women do it right. Advice probably goes down a lot easier with ice cream.”
“We don’t give advice.”
With her eyes hidden, he found himself hypnotized by her lips, his gaze glued to their every movement. He made it a game, scoring points if they curved into a smile.
“No advice?”
“Usually, we talk about how awful things are, cry together, and pig out on comfort food.”
“Sounds depressing. How does that solve anything?”
“That’s the problem with men, trying to solve everything. You can’t solve life’s problems, Finn. You have to deal with ‘em.”
“Eating ice cream? That’s how you deal?”
He scored big with that one, as her lips spread in a huge grin.
“Works nine times out of ten.” She adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder and turned toward the ladies’ room. “Now, please… let me get my face cleaned up so I can get to work. I’ve got a ton on my plate today.”
“Sure.” Finn coughed, the deep sound reverberating in the lobby, which was now almost empty.
Laurie turned around to face him, her hair pushed back to expose deeply furrowed brows. “What’s going on with this cough, Finn? It doesn’t sound good.” Her finger wagged in his face. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes, and you can’t blame it on mascara.”
He hated looking fragile in front of his employees. For some reason, it was even worse for Laurie to see him that way.
“It’s no big deal. I’m just tired from flying to Denver and back and waiting in the hospital.” He skillfully shifted the focus. “Jarrett’s biopsy turned out to be major surgery. The next step is chemotherapy.”
“Oh, no! How is he? When does chemo start?”
“It’ll take some time to recover. I’m guessing they’ll start the chemo as soon as possible.”
Just then, heavy coughing overcame him, continuing for twenty seconds or more before he gained control again.
Her eyes squeezed into narrow slits, like slivers of black onyx. “I’m telling you, as your good buddy… I think you’re getting sick. I’ve seen it before, you know.”
“That’s my normal morning cough. I feel great, and I can prove it.” He bent his arm, pointing his fingers to the bicep that bulged through his shirt. “Want to feel?”
Her hands went to her hips. “Is this the way men deal with problems? You make a joke and pretend nothing is wrong?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?”
She shot back, “None that lived to tell about it.”
“You remind me of my mum, right now.”
She pressed her lips together, as if she were holding back a sharp retort. “You’re right. You’re a grown man. I won’t say any more about it.”
