Page 55 of Degrees of Power
I can hear the shallow breathing and the quiet sobbing that she is trying to cover up and my heart breaks for my best friend. “You know I’m here for you. Anything you need, Jenny,” I say.
“Thanks Kate. I hate to ask, but I need a little time away to work through this. I know you have a million things on your plate and are dealing with the Alfreita thing, but…”
“Jenny, anything. Just tell me what you need,” I say.
“If I have my emails redirected would you be willing to take care of things?”
“Of course, you copy me on just about everything that goes on. I’m happy to assist. Please don’t worry about Torzial. Everything’s going well with the medical facilities and the new site for Prestian Corp in Vegas is going on schedule. Redirect the emails and I’ll take care of things until you return.”
“I don’t know how to thank you. There’s just no one else that I could ask or trust with the business,” she says.
“It’s not a problem at all, Jenny. You would do the same if the situation was reversed,” I say.
“You’re such a good friend,” she says.
So, Brian told you what’s going on with Alfreita?” I ask, hoping to get her attention on something less troubling for her.
“A little. Brian said we have to stay here because his penthouse has a safe room and no one can guarantee my safety if I were to leave and go home. He told me that Alftreita’s after any of the family members or people close to Carlos or Chase that he can get his hands on,” she says.
“I’m so sorry that you have to deal with this on top of everything else that you’re dealing with, but glad you’re with Brian and safe,” I say, restraining the multitude of questions I have about their relationship.
“It’s okay, I’ve actually been able to sleep a little lately,” she says, and I hear the repressed yawn on the other end of the phone.
“Jenny, why don’t you get some rest? I’ll call you tomorrow and we can talk more then. In the meantime, if you need anything, anything at all, call or text me,” I say.
“I will Kate. Thanks for checking on me,” she says before disconnecting.
I pull on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt and forego the bra recalling Chase’s mention that Gaby is spending the night in her room. I slip into multi-colored merino wool socks before heading downstairs to find Chase, anxious to give him an update on Jenny. At the end of the stairs, I stop at his study, checking to see if there is a light or voices coming from beyond the door, but there is not.
I head into the spacious kitchen, ravenous. The light above the stove allows me to find my way over to the counter without turning the large overheads on. The space is adorned with Viking and Subzero appliances and equipped to handle meals for Big Brothers and Sisters, Boy Scouts of America, and whatever other entertainment that Chase wants to do in the lakefront community. I look around at the vastness, feeling small and overwhelmed at the situation swirling around me, the danger, the unknown.
I open the refrigerator. Gaby has labeled a clear glass container with, “Dill Soup.. Heat 2 minutes in the microwave. Next to the bowl is a stoneware pie dish that has been covered with plastic wrap and affixed with a label. “One piece, one and a half minutes in the microwave, one scoop of ice cream,” the notes says. Comfort food, it’s what we can use tonight.
I pull out the pie dish and am reaching overhead to get dishes out of the cupboard when at the same time he puts his arms around me from behind. “I was just getting you dessert,” I say, pulling the stoneware from the cabinet.
“I was just trying to decide what I want, a piece of pie or that luscious little ass of yours,” he says, rubbing up against me.
I turn around and look up and into his smiling green eyes, full of mischief. “You’ve already had that,” I say.
“Are you saying no?”
“No, but aren’t you hungry?” I ask at the same time my stomach growls.
“Actually yes, and you obviously need to eat something,” he says.
“I hate to admit it but I think you’re right. I’m absolutely starving,” I say, turning to place a generous helping of pie on each of our plates as he reaches into the freezer for ice cream.
“The note on the dish said one scoop,” I say, laughing at the ginormous servings on our plates.
“Shh… it will be our little secret,” he says as we sit down at the small round table in the corner and begin digging into the apple crumble pie. The cinnamon mixed with nutmeg, melded with the slightest hint of lemon juice complement the apple mixture and the crisp brown sugar topping makes it absolutely scrumptious.
I look up and Chase is watching me. “What, it’s so good,” I say, smiling back at his infectious grin.
“Just glad to see you eating, that’s all,” he says, taking another bite of his pie.
“I know, I’ve been so worried about Jenny. She said Ty threatened her at the opening and after that she must have just blocked everything out. Her counselor came today and it was a good session, much longer than normal. It may be post traumatic stress syndrome,” I say.
“I know, Baby. Brian’s been keeping me posted this afternoon too, and he’s taking good care of her,” he says.
