Cardinal

by Sara Mack

  As the elevator descends, Latson finds my ear again. “Do you have any more reasons to avoid letting me down?”

  His breath against my skin causes heat to slide down my neck and leave goose bumps in its wake. I don’t want him to notice, so I turn and peek over my shoulder.

  “You’re wearing another plain white tee,” I sniff. “Obviously you don’t own any other clothes. I can’t be seen with you. Other than professionally, of course.”

  Latson laughs and I feel the vibration through my shirt. “You’re going to have to do better than that,” he murmurs.

  His words sound like a dare.

  Chapter Eight

  Two days later, my brother leans over the bar above me. “Are you feeling any better?”

  I finish tapping a keg and stand, holding my stomach. “Not really,” I say. “What was in that pizza?”

  Last night, Jules and Pete decided to forego the health food and introduce me to the world of Chicago-style deep dish pizza. It was all they promised it would be: thick, covered in chunky tomato sauce, and dripping with cheese. I’m not ashamed to say more than one piece went down without a problem.

  “Just your standard stuff,” Pete says. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home?”

  I know he would like that, seeing as how this is my first day as an official employee at Torque. “No.” I shake my head despite feeling like my gut is digesting itself. “I don’t want to make a bad impression.”

  My brother gets sarcastic. “I know the owner. You do, too. Latson will understand.”

  “Pete.” I’m agitated because no matter what I do I don’t feel good. “I’ve been lying around all day. Maybe if I move I will feel better.”

  Ever since I woke up this morning I’ve had this gnawing sensation under my ribs. It started out as a dull ache but got worse the longer I laid on the couch. Food doesn’t usually bother me, so I’m not sure what is going on. All I know is that I’d like it to stop.

  “Well, tell me if you change your mind,” my brother says. “Carter can handle the door and the girls can handle the bar if you need to leave.”

  My eyes dart to my coworkers. Mina and Maggie talk while they set up. When Pete introduced us tonight I got the typical “new girl” once over. I’ve been in this situation before and I expected it; the last thing I need to do is leave early. I have to prove that I deserve the job I was given, even more so since I’m Pete’s sister. Three main bartenders have been the status quo at Torque since it opened. Now that I’m number four, even for a brief time, I have to pull my weight. People don’t like to have their hours threatened, especially when they rely on tips. Also, Pete let me in on some behind-the-scenes information: both of the girls calling off the other night didn’t sit well with Latson. I’m sure they think he’s looking to replace one of them, which makes my presence even more awkward.

  I turn my attention back to my brother. “I’ll be all right. This thing will pass sooner or later.”

  Pete looks uncertain. I shoo him away with a wave of my hand. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? We open in, like, twenty minutes.”

  “Fine,” he says and heads toward the main doors. Satisfied, I walk over to the register to count the change in the drawer. Just as I grab the stack of one dollar bills, a sharp pain flashes across my stomach. I double over as much as I can without anyone noticing.

  Ouuuuuuch, I mentally groan. What is this? On my first break, I’m calling my mom. She’ll know what to do. I know I’m an adult, but you never get over the need for motherly advice. Moms know everything.

  “I’ve been thinking.”

  My head snaps up. Latson is standing opposite me wearing half a grin. “Did it hurt?” I ask.

  “Funny,” he says. He moves to the other side of the register, so he’s closer to me. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t have a good time the other day.”

  “Who’s pretending? Your nephew is adorable. I had a great time.”

  “Good.”

  After I got my full tour – and I mean full tour – of the shark exhibit, Oliver asked me to have lunch with him and his uncle at the aquarium cafeteria. While we feasted on chicken fingers and French fries, Oliver quizzed me on all the shark facts he taught me earlier. Then, we spent some time in the gift shop where Oliver tried to talk Latson into buying him a book about whales. Apparently he has all the books about sharks. When Latson said no, I fake pouted alongside Oliver until his uncle caved. When it was time to leave, Latson made a big deal about me following them home, which Oliver thought was hilarious until he learned I really am staying in the same building. When he found out I was neighbor Pete’s sister, he hugged me. When that little boy’s arms wrapped around my waist, my heart puddled for the second time that day. I don’t think anyone has ever been that excited to be near me.

  Another weird pain hits my stomach and I try to ignore it by shutting the register drawer. “So, about your thoughts?”

  Latson steps back and takes off his leather jacket. He holds his arms out to the side. “Your reason for not letting me down has been negated.”

  Huh? I look at his shirt and it clicks. Instead of his usual plain white tee, he’s wearing a navy blue one with white lettering.

  “No pants are the best pants,” I read, then raise an eyebrow.

  “It’s the truth,” he says with a sexy smile.

  I wish I didn’t feel so shitty. I can’t banter with him in this condition. All I can muster is a sarcastic, “Classy.”

  “You said nothing about class.” Latson lowers his arms. “All you said was I couldn’t wear white shirts.”

  “No. I said you shouldn’t wear them all of the time.”

  “Stop trying to come up with loopholes.” He walks up to the bar and sets his hands against the top. “You’re out of reasons. Admit it.”

  I point at the word Torque scrawled across my shirt. “Still your employee,” I say.

  He smirks.

  People start to enter through the front doors and they grab my attention. “Looks like I have a job to do.” I glance over at Mina and Maggie to see if they’re ready and catch both of them watching Latson and me. They have confused looks on their faces.

  Great. Not only am I their manager’s sister, it’s obvious I know the boss.

  Ugh.

  I step to the side so Latson is out of my way. When I do, a horrible pain shoots across my belly. I clutch the edge of the bar for support as it crawls under my ribs and burns its way up into my chest. It hurts so much, I can barely breathe.

  “Jen?”

  I try to answer but I can’t. All I can do is concentrate on taking short breaths as my body breaks out in a cold sweat.

  “Jen. What’s wrong?”

  I have no fucking clue, but I think I’m dying. I try to send the message to Latson telepathically, because there’s no way I can talk. A wave of nausea washes over me and suddenly the floor seems like a good place to be. My vision blurs as my knees buckle and I land on my hip behind the bar.

  “Jen!”

  I hear the scuffle of feet and feel someone grab under my arms before my head hits the tile. “Get Pete!”

  I think that was Maggie. My eyes close. God, I hurt. Make it stop.

  The next thing I know, I’m floating. At least it feels like I’m floating. I don’t have the energy to open my eyes. I’m still trying to take little breaths, to try and keep my stomach and my chest from burning. It doesn’t work. Nothing works.

  “What happened?” It’s Pete.

  “I don’t know. She passed out.” Latson’s voice is muffled and I realize he’s carrying me. I hear a door. “Felix! Get my car!”

  “Shouldn’t we call 911?” Pete sounds panicked.

  “Dorothy is faster,” Latson says.

  “You and that damn car. Jen!” Pete’s voice is next to my ear. “Can you hear me?”

  I nod because I can.

  “What’s wrong? Can you breathe? Open your eyes!”

  I squint. “Stop yelling,”
I croak out. “My stomach is killing me. It hurts to take a deep breath.”

  “Is it the same thing as this morning?”

  “Only a thousand times worse.”

  Latson holds me tighter, and I clench his shirt in my fist in response to the pain. Leave it to me to feel like I’m birthing an alien in his arms. I can’t even enjoy the feeling of being held in them.

  Before long I hear the rumble of an engine. Latson starts to walk and Pete stops him.

  “Give her to me,” my brother says. “I’m riding with you. Are you going to Mercy?”

  “Yes,” Latson says before handing me over.

  I open my eyes as I’m jostled from one person to the next. Felix jumps out of a black muscle car and rounds the front, drawing my attention to the white stripes that run the length of the hood. “Is she going to be all right?”

  “Estare bien,” I mumble against Pete’s chest. I’ll be fine.

  “Let’s hope so,” my brother mutters.

  Latson opens the passenger door and pulls the seat forward. Pete sets me in the backseat. As he buckles me in he says, “You’re killing me, Little J. You know that? You should have stayed home.”

  “So I could pass out all alone? No thanks.” I wince. Damn pain.

  Pete gives me a worried look. He knows I’m right.

  The guys jump into the front seat and as soon as the doors slam shut, Latson tears away from the curb. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes, tops,” he says as he maneuvers through traffic.

  I try to settle against the soft leather of the seat beneath me and pull my legs up to the side. Latson steers with one hand as he pulls his cell from his back pocket. He pushes a button and tells it to “Call Dad.”

  His phone responds. “Calling Dad.”

  “Are you sure?” my brother asks. “When’s the last time you talked to him?”

  “Two years ago,” Latson answers.

  ~~~~

  The lighting in the hospital room is dim. I blink to focus and search the walls for a clock. Hearing the slow tick, I find it by the television. It’s almost two a.m. I’ve been here for seven hours.

  My head rolls against the flat pillow and I look down. I still have my IV. I silently thank the nurse who injected the morphine into the tube to kill my pain. After that, I didn’t care how many vials of blood they had to take. I didn’t care that I had to put on a backless hospital gown. And I didn’t care when they used the same tube to inject dye into my body for a CT scan. All that mattered was finding out what was wrong.

  I look in the opposite direction and find Pete asleep in a chair beside my bed. His head is tilted at an odd angle, which makes his mouth hang open. If I had something to throw, I would totally try to make a basket. I lean over and tap his knee. “Hey.”

  His eyes fly open. “What?” He blinks. “You’re awake.”

  “Yeah. Why are you still here?”

  “Like I’d leave you.” He straightens his body and yawns.

  “Pete. I really appreciate it, but you can’t sleep in that chair. You’re three times its size. Go home. I need you to pick me up after surgery later.”

  He runs his palm over his tired eyes. “Nothing’s changed, has it?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  I can’t believe I have to have surgery. Stupid gallbladder. How can such a tiny organ cause so much pain? Apparently mine is inflamed and full of stones, one of which is blocking some sort of duct. It needs to come out. Thankfully the procedure is outpatient, and I won’t have to stay in the hospital very long.

  I smile innocently at Pete. “You’re going to have to wait on me for the next five days. Instead of sitting here, you should make yourself useful and go to the store. I’ll need plenty of apple pies and coffee.”

  “Nope.” He leans forward. “You heard Latson’s dad. You have to watch what you eat, at least for a while.”

  I frown. After my problem was diagnosed, I got a visit from my surgeon. Latson’s father drew a diagram of what was happening, explained laparoscopic surgery, and told me how long it would take to recover. He was patient and reassuring. He also looked like an older, gray-haired, more distinguished version of his son.

  “Why is it you listen to him but ignore me?” I ask Pete. “I told you to leave and get some sleep. Instead you chose to stay and remind me of my restricted diet.”

  “He’s a medical professional,” my brother says. “You’re just my stubborn sister.”

  “Who you love,” I say sarcastically.

  “I … ” Pete’s expression morphs from playful to serious. “I know I don’t say it, but I do.” He hesitates. “You scared me today. I’d be a mess if something happened to you.”

  I’m not sure how to react. This is a side of my brother I’ve never seen. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Honestly, I scared myself.” I pull the blanket higher on my waist. “I’ll try not to do it again, if that makes you feel better.”

  Pete smiles. “It does. Thanks.”

  It’s awkward being emotional with my brother. Maybe he is finally growing up. He’s a manager now, and his apartment looks different. I haven’t seen him play a video game since I’ve been here. He’s a health nut, and I’ve caught him staring at Jules like he can’t live without her. Not that I didn’t like the old Pete, but mature Pete is pretty awesome. Even if he is overprotective.

  “Well,” I say, “since I’m doing you the favor of not dying, could you do me a favor?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Go home.” I shove his leg. “Hug Jules. Get some rest. I plan on sleeping until they wheel me into the operating room.”

  He stretches. “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you if you’re nervous.”

  I am a little anxious, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow when they prep me for dissection.”

  He scowls. “That’s gross. You’re not a frog.”

  I grin. “I promise I won’t croak.”

  Pete rolls his eyes.

  “Hopefully the anesthesia won’t make me sick. I mean, green.”

  “Stop.”

  “Just think. I’ll feel toad-ally new again in a few days.”

  “Really?”

  “Then I’ll be able to jump right into work.”

  “You’re pathetic.”

  I laugh. “I’ll keep going if you don’t –”

  “Fine.” My brother stands and holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m leaving.”

  “Say hi to Jules for me.”

  “Will do.” He gives my shoulder a nudge before he walks toward the door. “I’ll see you later. Go back to sleep.”

  “Okay. See you later.”

  The door closes behind him and I decide to get comfortable. I’m finally alone for a few hours. I’ve had someone poking, scanning, or talking to me since I fell over. I find the control pad that adjusts my bed and start to play with it.

  “I forgot.”

  “Geez!” I jump as the door opens.

  Pete points. “The nurse button is right there. Call them – or me – if you need anything.”

  I sigh. “I got it.”

  He waves. “Okay. Bye.”

  “Gooooodbye,” I drag out the word.

  The door closes again.

  That boy is worse than my parents. I pity his kids, if he ever has any. Which reminds me: I need to call my mom and dad before surgery. Pete called them when I was admitted, but I haven’t spoken to them personally.

  The door opens again.

  “Now what?” I groan. “This is getting –”

  Latson sticks his head inside the room and looks around. “Is he gone?”

  My stomach does a little flip. “Yes,” I say, uncertain. “Did you need Pete? He just left.”

  “No.” Latson steps inside. “I came to see you.”

  Really? I take in my tall, handsome, tattooed neighbor-boss. He walks over to the chair my brother occupied and pulls it closer to my bed. “Is it just me or does Pete get
weird when you’re around guys?”

  “He gets weird,” I confirm. I gather my hair and pull it over one shoulder. I’m sure I look like crap with a capital C.

  Latson gives me a lopsided smile and takes a seat. “So, how are you?”

  “I’m good. Just a little clogged.”

  He laughs. “Sounds like a personal problem.”

  “It is.”

  “I hope it’s nothing serious.”

  “Gallbladder,” I explain. “Your father plans to take it out around noon.”

  Latson nods like he understands. “I’m sorry I left earlier. I would have hung around, but you had Pete. I knew you were in good hands.”

  I would never have expected him to stay and I find it odd he would think so. “I’m not your responsibility,” I tell him. “You shouldn’t apologize. You helped me so much.”

  Suddenly, it dawns on me how much. I remember the conversation from the car. “Have you really not spoken to your father in two years?”

  Latson leans back against the seat with a resigned slump. “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  I realize I asked a very personal question when he lets out a heavy breath and runs his hand through his hair.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “That is none of my business. In case you haven’t noticed, I embarrass myself a lot. I trip, I get trapped in gym equipment, and I speak before I think.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “And you dance in your underwear.”

  My cheeks turn red. “That, too.”

  Latson leans forward and sets his elbows on his knees. “I’m kidding. You shouldn’t be embarrassed about the dancing.” He catches my eyes with his and smiles. “You’re gorgeous.”

  Is it hot in here? I feel hot. I resist the urge to fan myself. “I don’t know whether to thank you or punch you.”

  “Why would you punch me?” He looks shocked. “I complimented you.”

  “Because! You scared me that day. My goal wasn’t to give you a free show.”

  “What was it?”

  “To relax. Unwind. Be carefree. Forget.”

  “Did it work? I mean, until you saw me?”