Page 30 of Back to You

“Sir? You don’t sound so good,” Ethan said, wishing he had Molly’s Lysol right about now.

“Nah, I’m fine. Damn allergies are acting up.”

“Maybe you should go home and get some rest?”

“No, too much work to do here, Thompson. I’m fine, nothing a little allergy medicine won’t take care of. Listen, I need you to drop what you’re working on and help me with the discovery on the McEnroe case.”

“Sir, I have the Williams case coming up —”

“Williams is solid, you’ve seen to that. But McEnroe really needs all the help it can get right now.” He broke off as he was hit with another coughing fit. Ethan looked over his shoulder and met Molly’s wide eyes. She held up the can of Lysol and Ethan nodded emphatically.

“Come on, Thompson, meet me in conference room five in 10 minutes.” And off he went down the hall, coughing as he walked.

Molly bustled over and started spraying Ethan’s office with noxious germ killer. “Dear lord, that man will die in his office, mark my words.”

“He’s going to kill the rest of us, too. I have to go sit in a conference room with that now.”

Molly just grimaced at him. “Want a mask?”

***

When Ethan woke up two days later with a fever and sore throat, he cursed both Cartwright and Lysol. Why did the stuff stink so bad if it didn’t do any good?

He rolled over in bed and groaned pitifully. Oh lord, he was freezing! Why was it so cold in here? He stumbled over to the closet and grabbed two more blankets, piling them on the bed then diving back in. He could feel his teeth chattering madly. He needed something for his fever, but getting out of bed seemed beyond his capabilities. He burritoed himself in the blankets and drifted off back to sleep.

Eventually he woke himself up by sneezing, one giant sneeze after another. He needed cold medicine, and something warm to drink. But that would involve getting out of bed. Plus, now that he thought about it, they didn’t have cold medicine. Ugh.

He snaked an arm out from under the covers and texted his boss to let her know he wouldn’t be in to work. Then he shot Brandon a quick text before dragging himself out of bed to take something for his fever.

Ethan: Hey, I’m putting in a grocery delivery order, need anything?

The phone rang as he was falling back into the bed.

“Hey, why are you ordering groceries at 9 a.m. on a Thursday?”

Ethan opened his mouth to answer, but instead sneezed three times in a row.

“Baby? Are you sick?”

“Yeah,” Ethan sniffed. “Fucking Cartwright brought some plague into the office.”

“What are your symptoms?”

“Uh, fever, chills, sore throat, sneezing.”

“Sounds like either a cold or the flu. Hang in there, I’ll run to the store and come check on you.”

“You don’t have to do that, I don’t want to pull you away from the cafe.”

“Don’t worry about that, I’m ahead on my baking for the day, and the morning rush is over. Marcus can handle it for a while, and I’ll run back over later to help out.”

Ethan whimpered. Having Brandon here sounded amazing. “If you’re sure.”

“Not a problem at all, I want to take care of you. Now what do you want from the store?”

Ethan rattled off a few things they needed.

“Be home soon,” Brandon said and hung up. Ethan dropped his phone on the nightstand and wrapped himself back into his trusty burrito of blankets, falling asleep once more.

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