Page 58 of Caleb
She smiles, but it evaporates just as quickly.
“Shit,” Red mutters, looking down.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just a little dizzy.”
And with just reason. Scott’s driving like a maniac, but we’re not on the highway anymore. He’s rushing through streets and making sharp turns that are upsetting Red’s stomach for sure.
“Scott,” I call out through the music. He turns it down. “Take it easy, will you? Miss Murphy’s getting a bit dizzy.”
“My apologies, Miss Murphy.”
He noticeably decreases the speed and turns the volume up again, but not as loud as it was before. He even changed the station to a classical music program.
Red holds on to my arm and rests her head on my shoulder. It does something to me. And without a second thought, my hand moves to her head and strokes her hair a few times.
I make myself stop and put my hands away.
“Like a celebrity would notice me,” Red says with a sleepy chuckle, replying to my earlier comment. I look down, and her eyes are closed.
Oh, they would.
2009
Death by Self-Inflicted Sleep Deprivation
March 8, 2009
THREE QUICK KNOCKSfollowed by a pause and a single knock on my door make me toss my tie on the bed. I rush to open it because I know who it is.
“Morning,” I say to Annette, who struts in, looking great as usual. I shut the door behind her and walk back toward the bed to grab my tie. It’s Paris Fashion Week, and Ambassador Murphy is hosting a dinner in an American fashion designer’s honor.
“Bonjour,garçon.” She snatches my tie out of my hands, slings it around my neck, and ties it with expert ease. She’s done this a few times, I can tell.
“What’s up?” I ask as she gives the black tie a final adjustment.
“I’ve got news,” she says, “about what’s next. Can I sit for a second?”
“Of course.”
We’ve been waiting for a while to hear about Ambassador Murphy’s next move. He hadn’t even shared a single thing with Annette, which has kept us in a current state of suspense. Right until this moment.
“James finally talked to me last night.”James. Whenever she calls him by his first name instead ofAmbassador Murphy,he,him, orthe bastard, I know things are going “well” between them. I find it annoying. I findhimannoying.
“And?”
“And he’s being called back to the States,” she reveals. “His ambassador days are over. At least for now.”
Panic flows through my veins, making my breath hitch.
“Where to?” I ask, trying to sound indifferent. “And what does this mean for all of us?” I clear my throat afterward, unsure if it’s concealing my distress from Annette, who’s already narrowing her eyes at me, analyzing my every gesture with apparent suspicion.
“New York.” She cocks her head slightly. “When I suggested it was ridiculous for Miss Murphy to keep her security detail once they left Paris, he got somewhat upset and said I was crazy to think she would walk around the streets of New York unsupervised. You know, considering James is going to be traveling all the time, and he’s going to let her live on her own.”
That statement almost chokes me because as much as I agree with Annette in that Red should eventually be able to live her life without security, a part of me doesn’t know if she’s ready for it.
I’mnot ready for it.
