Chapter 9
Nine
CULLEN
Shock and awe glittering in his eyes, Asad approaches me with a stupid grin that’s growing by the minute.
I lift a finger to my mouth in a silent command.
“My lips are sealed.” He mimics zipping up his mouth, but he immediately unzips it, “Just one thing. Are you and Nardi?—”
“No,” I growl.
“Are you sure because…?”
I glare at him, not bothering to answer. Nardi is a loud, brash, obstinate woman who—at the start was just a mere pawn on my chess board—but now, she’s a thorn in my side.
The burning in my blood is from anger. It has nothing to do with the way Nardi’s lips parted when I trapped her against the truck. Or the way her scent wafted to my nose on the shifting breeze. Or the way my hands were three seconds away from clamping the back of her neck as my tongue devoured her.
A very unsanitary thought and yet, I’m not bothered by it. If it’s with Nardi, I’d enjoy getting my hands dirty.
What on earth am I thinking?
Something shines directly in my face and I lift a hand to shield my eyes. The sun is refracting off the rusty tent poles that I yanked away from Nardi’s neighbor. These things look like an accident waiting to happen.
Asad notices the tent poles at the same time and scoops them up before I can. The metal rods make a musical jangle as they clang against one another.
“Did Nardi forget these?” Asad asks.
“I’ll take them.”
Asad holds fast. “Everyone’s waiting for you inside.” He shimmies the poles so they’re more balanced in his grip. “I’ll get them to her.”
“Give it,” I growl.
Asad smirks. “I thought you said there was nothing between you and Nardi?”
“There isn’t.”
“Then what does it matter who takes them?”
My jaw clenches because I don’t have a good answer for that.
“Those are mine,” a familiar voice says. Josiah ambles up to Asad, his eyes on the tent poles.
“And who are you?” Asad asks, wielding the tent poles over his shoulder like a sword.
“Josiah,” he says frankly.
“This is Nardi’s little brother,” I clarify.
“I was just about to bring these over to your sister. Here yah go.” Asad deposits them into his grip. “You got it? It’s not too heavy right?”
Josiah nods, his knees almost buckling under the weight.
“You sure you don’t need some help, Josiah?” I ask.
His severe expression softens into something just short of a smile when he looks at me. “Nah, I’m good.”
“How’s the Python Club?”
Joy spreads over his dark face. “I’m learning a lot.”
“That’s what I want to hear.”
“When can I see the simulation?” Josiah asks, looking up at me with his frank brown eyes.
“That’s classified, buddy.” Asad says. “How do you even know about our project?”
Josiah rolls his eyes.
I laugh softly. “He has his ways.”
“I’ve been playing around with the idea I told you about. Have you thought of a satellite as a way to connect the planes to the controller?”
“We’re exploring something in that direction.”
Asad reaches out as if to pat Josiah’s head. “Are you a programmer, little guy?”
“Don’t touch the hair,” Josiah says, lurching back.
Asad freezes.
I inwardly smirk. When Josiah makes that disgruntled face, he looks a lot like Nardi. “As soon as the simulation’s cleared by my partners, I’ll give you a preview.”
“Cool.” The little boy grins. Then he balances the tent poles under one armpit to check his phone. “It’s Nardi. She’s ordering me back to the car.” Josiah groans. “Could you talk to her? She’s punishing me for the hacking thing even though you told her it was fine.”
“The hacking…” Asad whispers. Suddenly, his eyes widen. “ The hacking? As in at our company … as in he’s?—”
I frown. “Josiah, what did I tell you about leaking confidential information?”
“That I shouldn’t,” he recites in a bored voice.
It seems I need to get him to sign an NDA about that. He let the truth slip out too easily.
Asad stumbles back, swaying as if he’ll faint. “A kid hacked our simulation? Seriously?”
Josiah’s phone buzzes again.
“Nardi’s waiting,” I remind the prodigy.
And I doubt she’s in a good mood.
“ Him? ” Asad’s brain is still backfiring.
Unbothered, Josiah whirls around with the tent poles and almost whacks Asad’s car. He veers left, missing the hood by a hair but losing his balance in the process.
“Whoa.” I instinctively grab his arm to steady him.
“Thanks,” Josiah says.
I take two of the poles away. “Let me help.”
Asad is still short-circuiting and I briefly wonder if he’ll need an ambulance called. However, I determine that he’ll be fine and join Josiah instead.
We walk together, our sneakers thudding against the concrete of the parking lot. I’m content to move in silence, but Josiah interrupts the quiet by muttering, “I have a question.”
“About the PLP Project?”
“About my sister.”
I stiffen. “What about her?”
“Have you convinced her to marry you yet?”
I clear my throat gently. “Who told you about that?”
“I overheard you two talking that time you came over.” He gathers the poles closer to his chest. “The first time, I mean. Not the time you cooked pasta.”
My mind goes blank. I have no idea how I should respond to that.
We walk for a bit more. The sun heats the top of my head and the poles are especially heavy. The adrenaline rush I felt when I saw Nardi with Big T is starting to fade. My body’s caving under the pressure.
“Nardi hasn’t been on a date since I came to live with her,” Josiah blurts.
That surprises me. While I spend most of my time alone and find company exhausting, Nardi is very magnetic.
“What about Big T?”
“That guy sucks .”
I grin in silent agreement. No wonder I felt a strong connection to Josiah as my legacy. We think alike.
“But,” he continues, “even if the most perfect guy in the world shows up, Nardi’s not going to marry him.”
“Why not?”
He narrows his eyes in thought. “She said she won’t marry anyone. Not after her last boyfriend.”
I can feel my blood pounding in my ears. “Who was her last boyfriend?”
“The guy who brought her to America.”
“Nardi left Belize with a man?”
Josiah nods.
A stiff frown works over my face. I’d read all of Nardi’s files and nothing had mentioned an ex. Though, to be fair, the PI hadn’t researched her life in Belize and I hadn’t been interested in going further back either.
Who was her ex? And what did he do to Nardi to turn her against marriage?
A car door slams up ahead and someone storms toward us with angry strides.
“Stop lifting heavy things,” Nardi spits. She grabs the tent poles from my grip, swinging them wildly. I duck on instinct. Just in time too, or she would have knocked me out cold. “Get in the car, Josiah.”
Flinging a dark look at me, Nardi jumps into her vehicle.
Josiah widens his eyes in his sister’s direction as if to say see?
I smile slightly and nod my goodbye.
The car rumbles to life and squeals out of the parking lot. My lips curl up at the dramatic way Nardi shoots into the street.
She’d probably be annoyed if she knew, but I stand by the fact that she lacks emotional regulation. Unfortunately for me, I find even her huffiness attractive. And though it’s sweet the way she worries about me lifting heavy things, I wish she wouldn’t. I don’t want to appear like a weak, sickly man. Especially not to her.
I turn back to head to the meeting, and my phone rings.
It’s Darrel Hastings.
I wince, having completely forgotten that I’d promised to call him after I left the cafe that day. Things have been so hectic that I haven’t had a chance to make good on that promise.
“Mr. Hastings,” I say, entering HQ through the front door.
“Sounds like I caught you at a good time.”
“Why would you say that?” I stop and lean against the receptionist’s desk. The furniture was delivered and installed. Seeing the desk, it finally feels like I’m running a company.
My elbow slides against the smooth surface of the counter. “I’m actually about to head into a meeting.”
“I guess it’s not a good time then.”
A sudden, striking pain clamps around my head. I grit my teeth and the cell phone clatters to the ground. The pain leaves as quickly as it came and I straighten again, massaging my temple.
“Cullen?”
“I’m here,” I croak, scooping up the phone.
“What happened?”
“Nothing. I just dropped my phone by mistake. Can I help you with something?”
“By now, you know my answer to that question.”
I laugh, but even that seems to take a toll on my chest. Though my mind is sharp as a knife and my thoughts are running at a mile a minute, my body’s slowing down. Something’s not right, but I don’t have time to go to the hospital and find out what it is.
Or more accurately, I already know what the hospital’s going to tell me and I have no desire to go another round with the exhausting, brain-fog inducing treatments.
“I won’t keep you long,” Hastings says. “My wife Sunny wanted to invite you to our farmhouse at the end of the month. No pressure. The invitation’s open if you’d like to join us.” He pauses. “Nardi will be catering.”
If I were feeling better, I’d ask him why he felt the need to mention that. But we both know that’s a draw for me. Whether I like it or not.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Alright then.” Hastings hesitates as if he wants to say something else, but he must change his mind, because he hangs up.
I brace both hands on the counter and take a few calming breaths, hoping that whatever that mysterious and powerful pain was, it’s gone now.
A door to the back bangs open. The construction crew finished with the last of the renovations early this morning, so it can’t be any of the workers. But everyone else should be in the meeting?
I straighten and clear the pain off my face just in time.
Asad stumbles toward me. “Cullen, you’re not in the conference room either?”
“Why aren’t you?”
“I had to wash my face. My entire world just turned upside down.” He scrubs a hand down his chin. “Cullen, you’ve got to be kidding me. There’s no way that little kid hacked into our program.”
“Keep that information to yourself. I’m not ready to tell Dr. Young and the others about Josiah.”
At least, not until I’ve settled his trust fund and signed all the contracts to transfer my assets to him through Nardi.
“Fine. Fine. I’ll take the secret to my grave.” Asad scrambles to keep up with me as I walk to the conference room. “But are you sure it was him? Did he have help? Did he team up with someone… older? What does a kid know about satellite signals? Are you certain it was just him ? ”
“Yes.”
“My brain is melting.” Asad grabs his head and stumbles forward. “Ah, I have a headache.”
That makes two of us.
I ignore his theatrics and slip into the conference room where the other technicians have gathered to discuss our latest findings.
The room is packed and I feel a wave of anxiety but, after a few deep breaths, the feeling lessens. I find a seat at the back of the room. A few of my team members notice me and smile as if they actually like seeing me around.
Awkwardly, I nod at them.
Meeting in person is still a little difficult, but there’s no denying how much more productive our meetings have become now that we’re all together for a few hours a week. Ideas seem to flow a lot more naturally when we can physically bounce it off each other.
It’s an initiative I should have taken a long time ago, but the truth is that I would never have taken this step if not for the copycat crisis.
During the meeting, I notice someone sneaking glances at me. At first, I ignore it and jot down notes so I can ask further questions, make suggestions, and do research of my own.
However, Asad taps me on the shoulder. “Cullen, I think Jenna wants to say something. She keeps looking your way.”
I glance at Jenna.
She averts her gaze and scribbles something in her notebook.
Since the presentation is nearly at an end, I wait until Dr. Young concludes and then offer to the team, “Anyone have questions?”
Jenna doesn’t speak up, but others do. We brainstorm new ideas, assign tasks and leave for the day.
Several technicians stop to ask me questions and I lose track of time as I throw ideas around with them. After the last person leaves, I pack my things and head out the door.
“Ronan.”
I whip around in surprise. Jenna had been waiting right outside the conference room. She straightens to her full height and stands in front of me.
“Um,” she chews on her bottom lip, “I thought we were going to the meeting together, but you suddenly disappeared. Was everything okay?”
The way she phrases ‘going to the meeting together’ makes it sound more serious than it was. We simply met at the curb.
Jenna follows me, her short, sensible pumps thumping the ground behind me. “That Nardi woman… she’s pretty.”
Pretty’s too… light of a word for Nardi. The moment I tilted her chin up to stare into her big doe eyes, my heart dived right out of my chest. It felt like I had to go hunting through my stomach to find it again.
“Was that guy she was with her boyfriend?”
My fingers shake with rage at the very thought and I answer her this time, “No.”
Jenna seems bothered by that.
We’re outside now and I realize I haven’t called a driver. I open the app on my cell phone, but Jenna spots what I’m doing. “I can give you a ride.”
“No need.”
“I was hoping to discuss my satellite signal readings with you,” Jenna says, blinking innocently.
I hesitate. Even if Nardi hadn’t made it a point to bring up Jenna earlier, clearly indicating that she’s bothered by her, I would react the same. As much as I enjoy talking with my team about work, my social batteries are totally depleted.
But that’s not the only tank that’s empty.
My stomach growls in the middle of my contemplation and Jenna overhears it’s pathetic wail.
She laughs. “I haven’t eaten yet either. We can stop somewhere for lunch. My treat.”
“No.”
She winces but bravely tries again. “Don’t tell me you have a rule where you don’t eat with employees.”
“I don’t eat out at all.”
She stares at me like I just admitted to shooting spider webs out of my nostrils. “Really? You don’t eat out? At all? From any restaurant?”
I tap on the app and select my home address as my destination.
“Come on .” Jenna steps a little closer and scrunches her nose. “There must be someone that you trust with your food. I seriously doubt you like cooking that much and even if you do, there’s no way you have the time. I promise, if you let me, I’ll take you somewhere with a totally clean kitchen and great service.”
Nardi’s kitchen. An image of Nardi’s cooking space blossoms in my mind.
The room had been clean and well-kept. I’d gotten to inspect every inch of it. Besides, I’ve always been curious about how Nardi’s food tastes, especially since she sells at her stall every Saturday.
“Oh, I see that look in your eyes. You do have a favorite restaurant,” Jenna squeals.
I pocket my phone, no longer weary. “On second thought, Jenna, I will take that ride.”
Jenna and I discuss work matters all the way to Nardi’s food stall. In the distance, I spot the tent she and Josiah pitched, but I can’t see Nardi yet.
Jenna slows the car and cranes her neck to look around the neighborhood, “Where exactly is the restaurant? I only see that rundown car wash and a liquor store.”
“It’s there.” I point ahead to the food stall.
“You eat street food?”
“It’s not street food. It’s food from a curbside vendor.”
“But…”
“You can drop me off here,” I say.
Nardi almost bit my head off after seeing me walking with Jenna earlier. I can’t imagine what she’ll do to me if she sees me climbing out of Jenna’s car.
But Jenna shakes her head. “It’s okay. I’m too curious to stop now.”
She cruises her electrical vehicle closer to the tent. I spot Nardi immediately. She’s in the very same T-shirt and painted-on jeans from earlier, but there’s an apron covering most of the clothes.
I watch, fascinated, as her lithe, graceful body flits from one end of the tent to the other. Her hands move with purpose, packing up her plates and stacking her pans inside of each other.
It looks like the food’s all done.
My stomach grumbles in displeasure.
Jenna frowns. “Isn’t that the woman from earlier?”
I pull on the handle of her door.
“You wanted to eat Nardi’s food?” Jenna sounds dumbfounded. “That’s where you wanted to take me?”
Why does she think I wanted to take her? I simply accepted a ride. “See you Monday.”
Jenna pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “It looks like she’s all out. I can take you somewhere else.”
I climb out of the car without acknowledging the offer.
Nardi has her back to me as she carries light items over to her car. The vehicle’s parked in an abandoned parking lot just behind her stall. Josiah’s helping her with the heavier items, balancing a giant pot in his hands.
A man with unkept hair, dirty jeans, and a torn T-shirt spots me and shakes his head. “Sorry, mister. They’re all out. You and your girlfriend will have to come earlier next time.”
Girlfriend?
At first, I assume the man is high on drugs or seeing ghosts because I’m definitely alone. But then I hear a door slam and Jenna hustles to the sidewalk.
“What are you doing?” I frown.
She shrugs and smiles, avoiding the question.
At that moment, Nardi swings around and spots the two of us standing side by side in front of her food stall. A flurry of emotions pass over her face. The first is surprise, the second is annoyance, the third is so fleeting that I can’t tell what it is. But finally, her plush lips settle into a scowl and I know she’s on a path of vengeance.
Josiah returns to the food stall as well, but his reception is much warmer than his sister’s. “Cullen!”
“ Mr. Cullen,” Nardi corrects. “Have some manners.”
“He can call me Cullen.” I nod at him. “It’s fine.”
She purses her lips. “In Belize, we call people by ‘mister’ and ‘miss’. So that’s what he’ll say.”
“Whoa, no need to get all aggressive,” Jenna says, laughter in her voice.
Nardi slams her hands on her hips. Her neck stretches back and forth as she looks Jenna up and down. “Did you just call me aggressive?”
Oh, boy. I barely survived when I told Nardi she lacks emotional regulation.
To de-escalate the situation, I step in front of Jenna, hiding her from view. She’s getting on Nardi’s nerves and honestly, I’m a little annoyed that she even got out of her car. Better to pretend she doesn’t exist.
“Since I cooked for you, I came to have the favor returned,” I say in a light tone.
Nardi flares her nostrils. There’s no missing the hard edge to her frown, and yet, I see hurt crystalize in her eyes. She swivels away from us both and starts to untie the tent from the cement blocks holding it down.
Watching her jagged movements, I get the sense that I did something wrong, but for the life of me I don’t know what happened. Why do I keep pissing her off? Does the fact that I’m breathing annoy her?
At least she won’t be annoyed for long.
Josiah’s eyes dart from me to his sister.
Even the homeless man is watching everything intently.
Nardi dismissed us and is now focused on taking down her tent, but I don’t want to go. The same tug I felt when I first entered her apartment washes over me again. The thought of returning to my quiet tomb of a home makes me fumble for something to stay.
But I don’t have much practice rescuing a conversation that’s headed off the rails. In most cases, I’m the one wishing for the conversation to end while the person rambles on and on in hopes of igniting my interest.
It’s not that sweet on this end of the social ladder.
Awkwardly, I point to a plate on the table. “Did someone forget to come for their food? Can I buy it?”
“This one’s mine.” The homeless man who’d been hovering around snatches the plate from the table and holds it protectively, twisting around as if he thinks I’ll tackle him to the ground for it.
I don’t know what part of me screams ‘will wrestle food from hobos’. But I guess you can’t be too careful these days.
Josiah shrugs. “You should have told us ahead of time. Nardi saves a plate for people who ask.”
“I don’t do that for just anyone,” Nardi snaps.
Jenna sticks her head out from behind my back, a frown etched into her pale face. “There’s no need to be so rude. We’re paying customers.”
“Jenna,” I warn in a low voice.
“Lady, I haven’t taken your money, so you’re not a customer of mine.”
Jenna laughs, but the sound is cutting and sharp. “How do you get any sales with that kind of attitude?”
“Mr. Cullen, please get your girlfriend out of my face before I drop kick her into the freeway.”
I frown. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Did you just threaten me?” Jenna’s bottom lip trembles and her face turns pink.
“Come over here with your ‘I’ll call the manager’ crap and find out,” Nardi threatens, dangling on the edge of the chair.
“Nardi, be careful on that chair,” I snap. “And Jenna. Go. Home.”
“But she just?—”
“Ah!” Nardi’s scream cuts through the air.
I spin around to find her mid-fall, one of the corner pole connectors clutched in her hand. The entire tent collapses, metal poles clanging noisily.
“Nardi!” It’s my first time trying to yell since my surgery and my voice croaks instead of bellows.
My entire chest erupts with flames from the attempt to raise my voice. My lungs protest, throbbing intensely. But I don’t care. I’m on the move. My first instinct is to vault over the table, but I don’t trust that I can make the leap. I sprint around the table to get to Nardi instead.
Josiah’s already there, yanking the tent canvas up and off his sister.
The homeless man even abandons his meal on the table to help out.
I stoop beside Nardi, a lump in my throat and my heart squeezed tight. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she says shakily.
I curve my hands around her back so I can help her sit. She tries to push me away, but moving her hand causes her to bawl in pain.
“What is it?” I check her over urgently. “Is it your arm?”
“I said I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” I growl. Bracing my fingers against her wrist as if she’s a diamond that can shatter, I apply a gentle pressure.
Nardi grimaces in pain.
“I think you might have sprained your wrist,” I inform her. “We need to get you to the emergency room.”
“Don’t take me to the hospital.” Wiggling her wrist out of my grip, she pushes slowly to her feet. With every movement she makes, Nardi winces harder.
I glare at her back. Why is she being so damn stubborn?
Studiously avoiding my stare, Nardi commands, “Josiah, help me pick up the tent pieces.”
Her little brother pinches his lips in concern, but he does as she asks.
“I’ll help too,” the homeless man says.
“Thank you, Ebidiah.” Nardi’s voice is a whisper now. She limps to the chair off to the side, still cradling her wrist.
My chest rearranges. I used to think being stuck in an unwanted conversation was the worst form of torture.
I was wrong.
Seeing Nardi in pain drives me out of my mind.
Jenna steps in front of me. Her sudden appearance is so unwanted that my first instinct is to push her away like a rag doll.
“Ronan, I can take her to the hospital in my car if you want,” Jenna offers, her smile weak and nervous.
“You’re still here?” I barely turn my head to her. “I told you to go home.”
Jenna stumbles back, stunned.
I stalk past her, my eyes intent on the woman with the wind-swept hair, pain-filled eyes and tough facade.
Nardi’s hunched in the chair, her gaze on the ground. Every little breath makes her nostrils flare and sweat is beading along her forehead. She’s doing a piss poor job of pretending to not be in pain.
“I’m taking you to the hospital,” I say in a low, firm voice.
Nardi stubbornly keeps her eyes trained away from me. “Are you asking or telling?”
“Let’s go.”
“I guess you’re telling.” A stubborn line etches into her dark forehead. “I’m not your employee, Cullen, so leave me alone. I will not be— eep! ”
A bleating sound escapes her as I scoop her in my arms. I try to be as gentle as I can so I don’t jostle her wrist or apply pressure to any of the bruises that formed from the fall.
Nardi slides all the way down until she’s pressed against me. We’re connected from the entirety of her left shoulder down to her hip bone. With so much of her body against mine, I almost forget my annoyance. Almost .
“Put me down,” Nardi protests.
I ignore her and carry her steadily.
“Aren’t you too sick to hold me? What if you get vertigo like you did last time?”
“I’m recovered enough for this .” Besides, she’s not that heavy. If I had to carry her a long distance, it might have been more dangerous, but there are only a few steps until we get to her car.
She kicks her feet. “Put me down before the both of us fall, Cullen.”
My fingers instinctively dig into her thigh instead. “ Enough , Nardi.”
“Who do you think you’re talking to? Don’t raise your voice at me.”
“I’m clinically incapable of raising my voice. Stop trying to pick a fight, woman.” I enter through the chain link fence that surrounds the abandoned parking lot. “This is not the time to pretend you’re tough.”
“Who says I’m pretending. I’m tough enough to punch you in the face with this bum wrist,” she grumbles.
I stop and bring my face closer to hers. Nardi inhales a sharp breath and I take note of it. Offering my cheek, I tell her, “Go ahead.”
She tries to move the wrist and hisses, pulling it back to her chest like a kitten with a broken paw.
“Thought so,” I mutter. “Where are your car keys?”
She clams up.
“Car keys, Nardi,” I repeat myself firmly.
“Front pocket.”
I hesitate. It’s probably not a good idea to go fumbling around in her jeans. Not only is it inappropriate, but I wouldn’t be able to forget the feel of her for a long time.
Searching for help, I make eye contact with Josiah. He’s carrying all the poles, but the weight doesn’t seem to bother him this time. All his attention is fixed on his sister.
“Josiah, can you get the car keys from Nardi’s pocket?”
“Yeah.” He drops the poles without a moment’s hesitation and fishes the keys out. It’s a difficult task, since Nardi’s jeans are tight and she’s seated a bit awkwardly in my arms.
I try to stoop down so Josiah can have an easier time of it.
Nardi rolls her eyes after the keys get stuck once again. “You’re taking forever. I’ll get it myself.”
“Don’t you dare move a muscle,” I warn her.
She scowls at me.
I scowl right back.
Josiah finagles the key out of her pocket right on time.
“Open the passenger side,” I tell him.
Josiah scurries to the other side of the car and pops the door open. I’m especially gentle and careful with her as I set Nardi on the seat. She reaches for her seatbelt and I push her fumbling fingers aside, pulling the belt over her and securing it.
Behind me, poles jangle loudly and a rotten stench fills the car. Ebidiah deposits all of Nardi’s tent equipment and the folded table into her backseat.
“I took care of it for you, Miss Nardi,” he says, his eyes filled with genuine worry. “I hope you feel better.”
I resist the urge to clip my nose and sanitize the entire car. Rather than make my usual signs of disgust, I smile instead. Ebidiah’s kindness to Nardi more than makes up for his lack of hygiene.
“Thank you.” I make sure to look the man in the eyes when I say it.
“Thank you, Ebidiah,” Nardi agrees tiredly. She’s been putting up a fight since she fell but, now that the pain’s probably increasing, she can’t hold back anymore. Deep indents form between her lips as she frowns and every so often, she flinches.
We really need to get going.
Ebidiah backs up a step. “You take care of Miss Nardi, alright, Mr. Beanie?”
“I will. Josiah, are you in the car?”
“Yeah.”
“Seatbelt?”
“Yeah.”
Satisfied that my precious passengers are safe, I nod once more to Ebidiah and back out of the parking lot.
Nardi had been keeping her eyes closed, but she pops one open to stare at me. “Do you know how to drive?”
“Of course I do.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“What makes you think I can’t drive?” I ask.
“You come to work in a ride-share vehicle every day.”
“You’ve been watching me?”
Nardi’s eyes widen a smidge and she turns her face away. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.”
It pleases me to think that Nardi notices my coming and going. Maybe she’d been thinking about me as much as I’d been thinking about her.
Nardi closes her eyes and I decide not to press the matter since she’s in a lot of pain. Instead, I hand Josiah my phone.
“This car doesn’t have a GPS. Get directions to the closest hospital.”
“Done.” Josiah completes the task in the blink of an eye and hands the phone back. I set it in the cup holder compartment and listen for the directions.
“Take the next left to General Healthcare Hospital.”
My fingers stiffen on the steering wheel.
General Healthcare Hospital.
It’s the place where I first learned I had cancer.