Page 70 of October
“Hey,” Stacey said when she walked in. “You okay? You look a little pale.”
“I might throw up. I don’t know.”
Molly, it turned out, didn’t need to fake sick at all because she actuallyfeltsick.
“Do you need to go home? You were coughing in the meeting,” Stacey noted.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m trying to see if it’ll pass.”
“Maybe you just ate something you shouldn’t have?”
“Maybe,” she said, knowingthathad nothing to do with it.
“I’m going to use the bathroom, but if you need to go, just head home, okay?”
“Thank you,” she replied.
When Stacey disappeared into a stall, Molly looked at herself in the mirror again and hated how bad she looked now. She had no choice, though. Even if she was going to go home, she still needed to get her purse, where her car keys, wallet, and cell phone were, and that purse happened to be on the floor under her desk, next to Finley’s.
CHAPTER 19
She hadn’t seen Molly yet, which was odd because Finley knew the woman only had one morning meeting. She’d told her as much the previous night, unless something else had come up at the last minute. Shehadseen India, though. Her ex-girlfriend had walked over toward Finley’s cubicle, but someone had seen India, and they’d talked there for a second before they’d walked off together without India giving her another look.
The previous night, while she’d been on the phone with Molly, Finley had wondered for a minute about how she had managed to basically kick India out of her apartment and what she would’ve done had she and Molly not been dating. She supposed that she probablywould havelet India kiss her to see if there was anything still there, like she’d done before. She also thought it likely that they would’ve ended up in bed together and that they would’ve woken up this morning and probably done it again.
Then, India would’ve suggested they grab dinner at her favorite restaurant, where she would have ordered a bottle of wine and asked Finley to share an appetizer that Finley didn’t really want. She didn’t actually have to wonder because she knew exactly how it all would have played out. They’d done this all before. What was different this time was that she had Molly. Well, she didn’thaveMolly necessarily; they had only been ona couple of dates. But it really felt like there could be something here, and Finley wasn’t about to make a mistake with India.
“Hey,” she said happily when Molly walked toward her desk.
“Hi,” Molly replied in a clipped tone and then bent down to pick up her purse.
“Everything okay?”
“Um… I’m not feeling well.”
“You’re sick?” she asked, looking around and seeing no one in the cubes near them. “Molls, you’re sick?”
“Just a little stomach thing, I think. No big deal. Going home. Gotta go. Talk later. Bye.”
Finley hadn’t known Molly well or all that long, but she knew that rambling now. It happened when Molly was either nervous or lying. She wasn’t sure which it was this time, but she watched Molly hurry down the hall and away from her without saying another word.
“Well, fuck,” she said to herself and stood to follow.
She needed to make sure Molly was okay. She’d planned to take her to lunch to tell her about the stupid India thing and to plan their date for that night, but Molly was already in the elevator by the time she arrived. Finley grabbed the next one and headed toward the parking garage, where she saw Molly tossing her bag into the back seat.
“Molls!” Finley called for her and jogged over to the car. “Are you really okay?”
“I’m fine. Just need some rest and chicken soup or something. See you later.”
“Molly,” she said when she got closer and could finally stop jogging. “What’s going on?”
“I told–”
“If you can honestly tell me that you’re sick, I’ll go back upstairs and tell Levi to cover for me so that I can take you homeand make sure you get that soup. I’ll hold your hair, if you need to throw up, take your temperature, and make you drink water. Whatever you need. But you did that thing where you barely complete a full sentence before you start the next one, and I’m wondering if you’re trying to avoid me or something.”
“I’m just…” Molly looked over Finley’s shoulder. “Can you get in the car? I don’t want to do this out here.”
“This?” Finley asked. “This what?”
