29. Overdoing it
29
OVERDOING IT
Archer
“Archer. Archer.” Someone’s voice was trying to penetrate the fog that was surrounding my brain.
“Go away.” I swatted whoever it was and turned over, needing more sleep.
“Archer, it’s eight a.m.”
“What?” I sat up but the room spun around and the dizziness had me flopping back on the bed. I closed my eyes because the bright daylight was hurting them.
“Did you sleep badly?” Micah leaned over me.
“Don’t know.” I curled up wanting to put the covers over my head and pretend the world didn’t exist.
Micah felt my brow. “No fever.” But I elbowed him out of the way as a wave of nausea took hold of me. I gulped and with a hand over my mouth, made it to the bathroom and emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet.
Sick . My wolf wanted nothing to do with human illness.
My unicorn shifter helped me off my knees and sat me on a stool. After he flushed the toilet, he offered me mouthwash and then wiped my face with a cloth. “You have to call in sick. No way can you go to work like this.”
“Have to. My boss has regional bigwigs in the office today. I have to be there tap dancing in the background.”
He placed his lips on my brow. “I’d love to see you tap dance and wriggle that cute butt.”
Normally, when he made adorable comments, I’d kiss him back and then one of us would fondle the other and that would lead to sex. Not today. “Help me up, babe.”
Micah led me to the shower, put me under the water, soaped me up and washed my hair. Half way through, I needed to sit, and he put me on the stool. After studying my face, he raced into the kitchen and grabbed a bowl.
The rest of getting ready was a blur of him drying me off, putting me into my clothes and grabbing my messenger bag. He even took Patch and all his puppy paraphernalia to Mrs. Ferguson in the building next door who looked after him while I was at work.
“I’m driving you to the office. You’ll fall off your bike and have an accident if you try and cycle.”
I didn’t argue. Couldn’t. I was trying to conserve my energy for all the tap dancing. Micah handed me a pack of plain crackers as I got out of the car. “Call me when you’re ready to come home. I’m working in the apartment most of the day.”
“I will.” I leaned against the car, willing myself to go into the building. “See you later.”
All the preparation was done for the higher ups visit. And while I waited for them to arrive, I made myself tea, with plenty of sugar and nibbled on the crackers. The nausea faded but not the exhaustion. I was going to need more than tea and crackers to get me through the day.
I must have checked my watch every minute throughout the morning, and the only good part was that I wasn’t expected to go to lunch with my boss and his bosses. Me projectile vomiting on them or sliding under the table would do nothing for my career.
Once they’d left and I’d said my goodbyes—they were all visiting an affiliate office across town this afternoon—I went into an empty office. One of our managers had been transferred and we hadn’t found a suitable replacement. I locked the door and curled up on the couch but not before putting the phone by my ear and turning the volume up.
But I’d just closed my eyes, when it beeped. My boss . Take the rest of the day off. Everything went well and they were very impressed. Enjoy the weekend .
I slumped into the passenger seat when Micah collected me and didn’t have the energy to play with Patch when we got to Sunshine Manor, just gave him a few pats.
“Sleep. I’ll take the dog to the park.”
I raised my head. “Neil might do it if he’s free.”
While I couldn’t see his face, his voice had a resigned air. “As Patch is in my life, I should do my part in looking after him. Just remember…”
“I know. No dog do do. Got it.”
When I opened my eyes, I lay staring out the window, trying to work out the time. The sun wasn’t in the right position for late afternoon.
“You’re awake, finally.”
“How long did I sleep?”
“Fifteen hours. It’s almost lunch time.”
“No!” I had a shift at the animal shelter this afternoon. “I’m much better. Whatever it was, had passed. Something I ate, perhaps.” I giggled and peered at Micah’s crotch.
“Very funny.”
Patch came bounding in and interrupted us and I sat on the floor with him while he did his best to destroy a chew toy.
A session at the shelter was always tiring but no more than usual and when I got home, I changed into jogging gear. Running around after Patch showed me how unfit I was. I’d been relying on cycling as exercise but had decided to change things up.
A gentle jog with Patch on a leash would be a good way to start. “Wanna go for a run?”
Micah put both hands on his hips. “Do I look like a jogger? Unicorns don’t jog. They just don’t.”
I poked out my tongue. “Wolves don’t either.”
Pfft , my wolf replied whenever I mentioned jogging. He didn’t see the point of it.
Oh, shush you .
But my beast had taken a liking to Patch. He waited and watched the first few days after the puppy arrived in my life. Now he was a fan.
Our park had a running track around the small lake in the middle. It was more like a big pond, or even a large puddle, but we called it a lake. “Come on, angel,” I said to Patch. “Let’s get moving.” But half way around the circuit, I realized I’d made a mistake. The dizziness and nausea returned, and I stumbled. I wasn’t at home with Micah to look after me but in public and responsible for a puppy.
I held the leash tight but darkness was closing in until it became a pinprick and everything went black.
There was a wet tongue licking my cheek and a familiar aroma, hovering over me. But not Micah. A shifter though.
“Archer.”
“Mmmm.”
“It’s Daire. Don’t sit up. You fainted and I’m worried you might have bumped your head.”
“I have health insurance,” I mumbled.
“I know. Micah told me. Paramedics are on their way.”
My next thought was what had happened to my dog. “Patch.”
“He’s here.” Oh right. That was the wet tongue. “I’ll keep him with me until you get home.”
Micah arrived as the paramedics did and I wished I could wipe away the worry etched on his face. “I’m fine,” I tried to convince him.
“You’re not fine.”
Micah repeated those words to the doctor in the ER. “He’s not fine. He's been running himself ragged with work, volunteering, worrying about his parents plus he has a new puppy.”
After the doctor examined me, he said, “Your friend’s correct. You’re okay and you don’t have a concussion. I suspect you’re exhausted but I would like to run some tests.
“Please not today. I just want to go home.”
The doctor’s eyes darted to Micah. The ER was crowded and I doubted he was in the mood for an argument. “Come back on Monday morning or make an appointment with your own doctor.”
“I will.”
“I’ll make sure of it,” Micah chimed in.
Neil
Can I borrow that detective novel? The one you were talking about last week?
I read Archer’s text and got the book off the shelf. Micah was keeping him home for the rest of the weekend after the fainting incident.
Sure. But can Micah come and get it? I’m about to start work.
I wasn’t shy about showing how I dressed for the clients in front of my friends at Sunshine Manor but I liked quiet time before filming. Though we had a new tenant, Martin and his son Toby and they knew nothing about my job. But they’d been keeping to themselves what with work and school and Toby’s after-school activities. Martin and I hadn’t spoken at soccer since the park incident, merely nodded at one another in passing.
The knock at the door had me hurrying to open it, the book in my hand, and I barely glanced at Micah as I gave it to him and made to close the door and lock it.
“Neil?”
Not Micah’s voice and not Micah. I lifted my gaze. “Martin!” Gods, no.
“Hello.”
Micah clattered down the stairs holding Patch and I wordlessly handed him the book. He glanced from me to Martin and whispered, “Do you need me to stay?”
I shook my head. This was my disaster and I had to deal with it. I pictured myself, the me that Martin was now staring at. Long blonde wig, a face full of makeup and a colorful robe tied around the waist.
But I had a client scheduled in less than two minutes. “Can you come back in two hours and I’ll explain.” I didn’t owe him anything. I could tightrope walk outside Sunshine Manor and still wouldn’t need to explain myself to Martin. But I wanted to. “I’m busy.” By saying that, I’d probably given him the impression I had a John waiting in my bed. “I have a call scheduled but will be free then. ”
I poked my head around the door. “Is Toby not with you?”
“With his grandparents.” That was the first thing out of his mouth since my name.
“Good. See you later.”
He nodded. Poor guy. He must be wondering what he’d stumbled into. But I had to work and I couldn’t afford to be distracted.
Two hours later, I flung my robe off and grabbed my wig, ready to throw it onto the bed. But put the robe back on and brushed the wig before applying more lipstick. Along with my explanation, Martin needed to see how I dressed at work, not just a quick peek at the door. And if he couldn’t deal with it, that wasn’t on me.
He was right on time. “Come in. Sit. Would you like a glass of wine? Or a beer?”
“Nah, but thanks.” He stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room. “Neil, I’m not here to judge your lifestyle or who you are. If you’re transitioning, I’ll support you. Whatever you need. Or if that’s not what this is...”
I cut him off but not before taking a deep breath. Maybe things would be okay between us. “Thank you. That’s very sweet, Martin, but I’m not. I work from home and dress like this for my clients.” I jerked my head toward the other room. “I have a camera set up in there.”
“W-What do you do?”
I shrugged. ”Whatever they want.” This was beyond awkward. I wasn’t going to reveal every detail. That was up to me to decide if and when I disclosed that to Martin. Please don’t judge me. Please don’t judge me. “Mostly they want me to listen. I have one client who watches while I apply makeup and he critiques my technique. Many of them need a friend and I provide that.”
“Okay. I get that. There are a lot of lonely people out there.” He sat on the sofa. “I’d like that beer now if you’re still offering.”
I joined him, each of us with a glass in our hands and I pulled off my wig and wiped the lipstick off with a tissue.
“That color suits you.” He raised his glass.
“Thanks.” With the stress evaporating, I volunteered the reason for getting into this line of work. “When I stopped playing professional soccer, I needed a job and no one would give me one. I had to create one.”
“You should be proud of that.”
“I am.”