Page 39 of My One and Only

After rinsing the dishes and loading them into the dishwasher, they left the house and climbed into Jo’s car. She entered his office address into her mapping app, and ten minutes later, they arrived at his building.

“Stay in the car for a bit,” she said as she climbed out. She put one hand on the gun under her left arm, covered by her blazer, as she scanned the parking area. The street in front of it. No one in any cars. No cars sitting on the shoulder of the road. Finally she opened his door. “We’re good. Let’s go inside.”

As he struggled to stand, she held out her left hand. She wouldn’t take her right hand off her gun until they were inside.

After a long moment, he grasped it and she helped him stand up. He dropped her hand as soon as he was vertical, and after he closed the door, she used her key fob to lock it.

He walked slowly toward his building, but he didn’t wobble. Didn’t stumble, although his face paled as he moved. She was certain his head pounded painfully, but he didn’t say a word. She opened the door, looked around the empty reception area, then held the door so he could enter the building.

‘You have an elevator in here?”she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “ADA rules.”

“Good. I don’t care if you usually take the stairs. We’re riding the elevator today.”

He drew a shaky breath. “Not gonna fight about that,” he said. “I normally take the stairs, but I can’t handle them today.”

She stared at his back as he shuffled into the elevator. At least he was being honest about his abilities today. She studied Cam as the elevator rose slowly. His face was pale, and a bead of sweat slid down the side of his face. But he stared straight ahead. Gripped the railing running around the car at waist level with white knuckles. When the doors slid open, he exited, catching his foot on the tiny gap between the elevator and the floor.

Jo curled her arm through his and hugged his arm to her side. He tried to tug away from her, but she tightened her hold. “You wanna fall on your ass out here? Where any of your employees could see you sprawled on the ground?”she asked quietly.

After a long moment, he said, “No.”

“Then let me hold onto you. I won’t let you fall.”

He jerked his head, then kept walking, staring straight ahead.

He stopped in front of the door with his name on it and fumbled in his pocket for the key. She slid it out of his hand, opened the door, and walked in with him.

When she closed the door, he leaned against it for a long moment. Finally pushed himself away and stood upright, swaying. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then walked slowly toward his desk. Collapsed into his chair like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Jo studied him for a long moment.“You should have stayed at home today.”

Before she’d finished speaking, he shook his head. Winced. Pressed his palm to the side of his head for a long moment.

“Too much work to do,” he said, dropping his hand and scooting his chair closer to his desk.

Jo sighed. He was clearly in pain -- the stiff way he held himself, his eyes blinking too fast, the fingers he pressed into the left side of his head all gave him away. But she’d let him preserve his pride. If she said anything about the pain he was clearly feeling, he’d deny it. Tell her he was fine, and ready to get to work.

He belonged back home, sitting in a chair or in bed. Taking a nap. But for some reason, watching him gut it out made her admire him. He was being foolish, but she perversely enjoyed seeing his strength. His iron will. His determination to get back to normal, even though he should be taking a nap at home.

She’d admired all those qualities back in high school. But since she’d last seen Cam, those qualities had been refined and focused on his business. Honed to a sharp edge. No wonder he’d succeeded in a tough, competitive field.

“How about some Tylenol?”she asked. “Since you insist on working.”

He began to shake his head no. Stopped immediately. “Not supposed to take pain killers.”

“That’s aspirin and ibuprofen, and it was only the first twenty-four hours,” she said. “Tylenol is fine. It won’t cause any bleeding issues.” She took a bottle out of her purse. Set it on his desk. “Take two of those now. Two more in four hours.”

He stared at the bottle as if facing down an enemy. Finally sighed, opened it and spilled two capsules onto his palm. Swallowed them dry.

Then he turned his head slowly to look at her. “If you want something to do, you could start the coffee,” he finally said. “Pour me a cup. Cream. No sugar.”

“Not sure your head needs caffeine,” she said.

He closed his eyes. “Maybe that’s why my head hurts so much. No caffeine for three days.” He managed a tight smile. “My addiction hasn’t been fed.”

“Okay,” she said, keeping her voice quiet. “I’ll get a pot started.”

---