Page 121 of Good as Gold
I finally wake up, springing to a seated position. I’m sweating like a beast.
Then I notice all the sunlight streaming into my room. It’s late.
Shit!
And that pounding noise? It’s at my front door. “Matteo!”
I roll out of bed and stumble toward the living room. “Coming,” I say thickly.
When I yank open the door, Lissa is standing out there, arms crossed. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks? What time is it? I’m supposed to be—”
“Mom took your tour. You can show up for the noon one.” She gently pushes me aside and heads for my kitchen. I watch, still half asleep as she fills the coffee pot with water and grinds the beans.
Eventually I remember to close the door. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“It’sSaturday, wise guy.”
“Oh.” I squint at the clock on the microwave. Nine thirty. “I can’t believe I slept in.” In all my years as a guide, that’s never happened. Not once.
Lissa just shrugs. “You haven’t had a day off since December. Not sure why it doesn’t happen more often.”
“Your dad showed up in my dream again.”
She lifts her chin. “Yeah? Did he tell you to buy me a new set of ear buds? The cool ones, with active noise canceling?”
“What?” I chuckle. “No.”
“Worth a try,” she says, smiling as she presses the button to start the machine. “What did he want?”
Stop following me. Go on home. You’re not listening. “It’s hazy now,” I lie. In the kitchen, I find the mugs and the milk. I need this cup of coffee more than I need my next breath.
And I know I can’t go on like this.
Sean told me what to do.
It’s time to do it.
* * *
I pull into the parking lot of our helipad at eleven thirty. The bird is back from the morning session, which is perfect. I need to talk to Cara before I take my afternoon ride.
First, I’ll apologize for sleeping in. Then we’re going to have a come-to-Jesus conversation. Which has nothing to do with my hairstyle.
But Cara is on the phone. When I enter the office, she holds up a hand to silence me. “Okay, yes. Tuesday it is. Thank you, Roger. I’ll be there.”
I try to wait patiently for Cara to end her call, but I’m so fidgety that I find myself spinning around in my office chair.
It’s nerve-wracking to change your life.
Finally, she hangs up and turns to me. We both try to speak first. And then we both stop and wait. But when the other doesn’t speak, we both jump in again.
Cara laughs. “Okay, fine. You go first.”
“Yeah, I really need to, okay? I’m sorry I slept in. I know you’re not supposed to run tours right now.”
She shrugs. “It was fine.”
