CHAPTER 12 #2
Jackie held up a finger and went to her fridge. She opened a bottle of water and took a couple of sips. She attempted to speak again, and once again, no real sound left her throat. She whizzed and hissed, trying to formulate words. It was useless.
What the fuck is happening? she thought. Panic soon replaced confusion as Jackie tried to speak again to no avail. She grasped at her own throat. Antonio tried to come close, but she held up her hand to stop him. She didn’t want him to come near her.
Jackie crossed the room to her phone and called Calvin at the front desk, putting him on speaker.
“Yes, Ms. Miles?” he answered.
Clearly, she wasn’t thinking straight. How was Calvin supposed to hear her? She coughed, then attempted to speak. Damn it. It was useless.
“Ms. Miles? You there? Do you need something?” Calvin asked, exasperation in his voice.
This time, Antonio stepped in to answer. “Hi Calvin, Antonio here. Jackie seems to have lost her voice.”
“Finally,” chuckled Calvin. Then he heard Jackie slam her fist on the desk. “Oh! You’re being serious. I’ll get Ms. Miles some hot tea with lemon right away.”
As soon as the call disconnected, Jackie began to pace frantically.
To her knowledge, she hadn’t been around anyone with a cold or strep throat.
She certainly hadn’t felt as if she was sick.
No fever or chills. Maybe she was having a stroke, like her Aunt Dell?
Dell stopped speaking altogether after that.
Well damn, here she was jumping to conclusions again.
It could just be a sudden case of laryngitis.
For the past week, the only living being she’d been around was PeeWee. Could dogs give humans laryngitis?
Jackie’s mind flashed to the waiting room of the animal hospital, the terror she’d felt not knowing what was wrong with PeeWee. And then there was the wild-haired woman’s voice again:
You need to quiet your tongue and speak with your heart.
Jackie shook her head. No. No. No. Don’t tell me that lady put a damn curse on me. She shook her head again. That was a totally irrational idea. Curses were not real.
Jackie’s hands began to shake. Her entire career depended on talking. Negotiating, networking, convincing. Hell, arguing. How could she do anything without a voice? She rubbed her hands up and down the sides of her pants until the friction made them feel raw.
“Lucky.” Antonio moved in front of Jackie. She looked up at him, her neck straining to meet his gaze. His eyes were narrowed with concern, but gosh, he still had those beautiful, lush, jealousy-inducing lashes. Women paid top dollar for those types of lashes.
Antonio gently pried Jackie’s fists away from her sides, clasping them in his impossibly large hands. “You’ve got to breathe. Sore throats happen to the best of us, especially in this industry. We talk all day. Let Calvin get you the tea and see what happens, okay?”
Jackie nodded. It was probably just a weird sore throat thing. Antonio released her hands, and she sat in the plush leather chair in front of her desk.
Within a few minutes, Calvin burst through the door, carrying a drink holder with a variety of cups.
He gently placed them on the desk in front of Jackie.
“I wasn’t sure what kind you liked, so I got a few.
Chamomile. Ginger. Green Tea. English Breakfast. Oh!
There’s some honey and lemon slices on the side. Hope this helps, Ms. Miles.”
Jackie looked up at Calvin and gave him a slight smile.
“Hah, that may be the first time you smiled at me,” Calvin mused.
“If we can call that a smile. Oh, one more thing.” Calvin pulled out a pen and notepad out of his back pocket.
Jackie watched as he wrote down a phone number.
“Just in case you need me faster. That’s my cell.
Text me.” With that, Calvin turned and once again left her alone with Antonio.
Antonio bent down, kneeling at her side. He put a comforting hand on her knee. Jackie stared at it. She was losing count of how many times she’d let Antonio touch her in the past few weeks. And she didn’t exactly hate it, which made her hate it even more.
“You know you can text me, too, since you’ve got my number again. If you need anything, I’ll be here, Lucky.”
Jackie squinted at him. He was taking advantage of her silence to keep calling her that blasted nickname.
Antonio laughed. “Yeah, I’m taking full advantage. I can call you whatever I want, and you won’t object. At least not verbally. I kind of like that.”
Jackie reached out and pinched Antonio’s skin on the top of his hand.
“Ouch,” he yelped. “Those tiny hands hurt, girl!” He rose and pushed the drink holder of teas closer to her. “Drink one of these teas…Lucky.”
Jackie watched Antonio make his way toward the door. With his hand on the handle, he turned around and winked at her before letting himself out.
The charming bastard. Jackie shook her head.
She picked up each up of tea, opening the top to smell their aromas.
She settled on the ginger tea and added honey and lemon to it.
She stirred until everything was mixed together.
The warmth of the liquid felt incredible on her throat. Surely, it would do the trick.
Jackie walked back to the side of her desk. She opened her email to see a new message from Antonio.
Jackie,
My sources tell me Mo is heading to Playa del Carmen next week. I say we meet him in Mexico and plead our case. What say you?
—Ant.
PS: Drink the tea, Lucky :)
Jackie slammed her laptop shut. How the hell did Antonio track Mo to the beaches of Mexico?
She knew he was gloating that he’d gotten the drop on her.
She’d let him know her displeasure when her voice came back.
In the meantime, she thought carefully about her reply to him.
She decided to keep it short and direct.
Mr. Steele:
First class. Separate rows. Calvin will make arrangements.
PS: Stop calling me Lucky.
Jackie took one more sip of the warm tea, then cleared her throat.
She tried to speak, yet once again, no luck.
Her head was throbbing. If her voice didn’t come back by the end of the day, she was going to have to call in some reinforcements—luckily, she knew someone who could whip up a concoction for any ailment.
Her own personal bruja: a hoodoo-practicing, vegan priestess who had an arsenal of tinctures and a veritable cornucopia of concoctions at her disposal.
Jackie pulled out her phone to make sure Bronwyn and her crew were on standby.
My voice will come back…throat’s just a little sore is all, Jackie rationalized, repeating it like a silent mantra, even though her throat wasn’t in any pain. She decided to run a little test, opening her mouth to scream at the top her lungs.
Nothing came out. Not even an audible puff of air.
Jackie dropped her head in her hands. It was going to be a long day.