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“Are you feeling okay?”
“Not really.”
I sneezed and as I reached for the box of tissues on the corner of my desk, it fell on the floor.
“Damn,” I said as I stood up to retrieve it. Henri was moving toward it at the same time I was except I didn’t make it as I collapsed on the floor. I woke as Henri placed me on the couch in the corner of my office.
“What happened?”
He gave me a look of concern. “You fainted. I think you should go to the hospital.”
“I’m fine.”
I coughed and my chest ached as the phone rang on my desk.
“Can you answer that please?”
Henri grabbed the headset on my desk and hit the red flashing button on the console. I heard him say “Yes, sir” and he held it out to me.
“Who is it?”
“Mr. Fox.”
“Oliver?”
“What’s the matter?” His voice sounded panicked, and I suppose I would’ve felt the same if I was in another country with no way of getting to him.
“I should've postponed this trip,” Oliver's voice crackled through the phone.
“You can't always take care of me,” I muttered, feeling guilty for being a burden.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to. Go to the hospital,” Oliver insisted, his concern palpable even over the phone.
“I'm fine,” I protested weakly, though the pounding headache and chills said otherwise.
“That’s not what Henri tells me. You need rest,” Oliver replied firmly.
“Maybe I’ll leave at noon,” I suggested, trying to find a compromise.
“I’m ordering you to leave now. Stop fighting with me, Ryleigh,” Oliver’s tone left no room for argument.
“I don’t want to be alone. I hate the penthouse when you’re not there,” I admitted, feeling vulnerable.
“Is that why you came to work sick?” Oliver asked, his voice softening with understanding.
“A little. It’s lonely without you,” I confessed, feeling a lump form in my throat.
“Go home. Brenda will stay in one of the guest rooms,” Oliver decided, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
“Where is she?” I inquired, wanting reassurance.
“Waiting downstairs with Vlad. I’m asking the pilot to turn around,” Oliver informed me, his concern evident.
I rubbed my temple with my fingers, closing my eyes. My head was pounding like a thousand drums.
“No. You need to do this,” I insisted, not wanting to disrupt his plans.
“I can scout out a spot for another club when you’re well. I’m only three hours into my flight,” Oliver reasoned, showing his dedication even from afar.
