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The next day, it had been almost twenty-four hours since I’d last thrown up. I followed Paula’s instructions and had not called the office again yesterday, but I was itching to hear from her after I called and reached her assistant this morning.
Like my thoughts had summoned her, my phone rang at that moment.
“This is Charlotte.”
“Hi Charlotte. Your voice sounds stronger today. How are you?”
“I’m feeling a lot better. Maybe I’ll actually allow the sun to hit my face from the balcony a little later today. Things might get wild. How are you? How are things with the gala?”
“Well, I’m only returning your call because I thought you might keep calling if I didn’t, and because I have good news to share. We found a donor to replace Nieto Pharmaceutical’s pledge and then some. We’re going to be able to get flowers for every table now, not just the decorative arrangements we had originally planned.”
I shot up into a seated position
“What? That’s amazing. Who’s the donor? How did we find them?”
“The donor requested to stay anonymous until the night of the event. Now, I’m going to let you go so you can get back to resting, and we can get back to working through your incredibly detailed and thorough checklist. Rest well, Charlotte. Everything is going to be okay. We’ll see you back here at the beginning of next week.”
“But the doctor sai?—”
“Beginning of next week, Charlotte. You can’t pour from an empty cup. We’ll see you then.”
I looked at my phone in disbelief. Where had another donor come from? Honestly, I didn’t even care. I was just relieved the gala was saved. I was a little disappointed I hadn’t had a role in securing it, but the relief was a hell of a lot stronger.
A knock came at the door.
“How are you feeling, Charlotte?”
Hayden stood in the doorway, appearing freshly showered, the scent of his body wash wafting into the room from where he stood, drawing up visions of a green, lush forest, a far cry from a gross and confined sick bed. He ran a hand through the still-wet ends of his hair. The grey joggers slung low on his hips, along with the tight white T-shirt, should be illegal. The guy made working from home look good.
“I’m feeling better, I think. Though that might be the endorphins. Paula just called. We found another donor for the gala, somehow, somewhere. She doesn’t want me back until the beginning of next week now, which will be hard, but they found my checklist and that’s a huge worry lifted, so I suppose I’ll survive.”
Something flickered across Hayden’s face that I couldn’t identify before he broke into a grin.
“That’s great news, Char. And how’s the nausea and fever?”
“Still vomit and hallucination-free over here.”
Hayden laughed softly.
“Glad to hear it. Think you might be up for some chicken soup? I can run down to the deli on the corner and grab some.”
“Sure, why not? Let’s live a little. I might even move to the couch to eat it.”
Hayden held up his hands.
“Now, now, let’s not push it. I got a tray so you can eat in here. We’ll leave couch excursions for tomorrow.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, sir. Whatever you say.”
Hayden’s eyes darkened slightly, but he shook his head and the moment was gone.
“I’ll be right back with the soup. Or do you need to get up and use the facilities before I run out? Don’t want to come back to you passed out on the floor again.”
“I think I’ll be okay.”
Hayden’s face turned serious.
“I saw you faint already once this week, Charlotte. That was enough.”
