Page 27 of Jordan

Raiden, at least I think it was him. I had trouble telling them apart. He took the suit from me and hung it in the closet near the elevator.

“Don’t you want to look at it?” I asked Jordan, trying to keep the rough sound from my voice. This damn cold was destroying me from the neck up.

“I’ve already seen it, and I trust your work. You wouldn’t deliver something that wasn’t finished and perfected.”

“No, never.” I couldn’t imagine doing such a thing. Then I sneezed because there was only so long I could hold it in. The car ride over was challenging. There was no way I was getting through a conversation with Jordan without a sneeze or a cough sneaking their way in.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. It’s just a cold.” Or strep or something else awful. Who knew at this point? I didn’t have health insurance, so it wasn’t like I dragged my ass to a clinic every time I caught a winter illness.

“Come in and have a seat. Irene, can you prepare some tea for Mr. Weathers?”

“Certainly,” a woman replied.

“You don’t have to do that,” I told Jordan. “I don’t plan to stay for long.”

“Nonsense. I was the one who got you sick. I had the flu, by the way, which is what you most likely have. Now I’m going to make sure you’re okay. This is my fault. I should have reached out to you about it.”

He walked with me to his living room, where we sat on the couch. It was solid black with straight lines, very contemporary, but the cushions didn’t give enough when I sat on them.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I was hoping to sink into the couch.”

“The people who visit me here aren’t meant to feel comfort. They’re to do what they need to and leave.” That seemed cold, but this was Jordan I was talking to.

“Even your family?”

“My son and nephew expect nothing different from me.”

“What about when you want to relax?” He had to unwind at some point, kick back, put his feet up. Now that I’d thought about it, I couldn’t picture him doing anything other than sitting around in his suits while he barked orders at people. It made me feel special that he didn’t do the same with me.

“I have a bedroom for that, with a TV in it and anything else I could need.”

“Okay, that makes sense, I guess.”

Before he could say more, a woman with light brown, shoulder-length hair with gray woven through it stepped in front of us. She was curvy with tan slacks and a white blouse on, and a black apron covering her front. Her kind brown eyes found mine as she set the mug and saucer on the table in front of us. “There you go. Can I get you anything else?”

“No, this is very nice of you,” I said.

“You look flushed.” She leaned forward, pressing her hand to my forehead before I could react. “You have a fever. I’ll be right back.”

I turned to Jordan. “What’s happening?”

“That’s Irene. She takes care of my home and feeds me. Now she’s going to mother you.”

She returned with a thermometer in her hand. “I don’t like this thing. I remember the older ones I had to slip under the tongue. Then there were the ear ones. This is like scanning a package of meat at the supermarket.” She hovered it over my forehead until I heard it vibrate. “A hundred and one point two. Have you taken anything for the fever?”

“You don’t have to go to any trouble.”

“If you don’t answer her, she’ll keep asking,” Jordan stated.

“I haven’t.” I didn’t even realize I had a fever.

“I’ll be right back.” She bustled away.

Jordan lifted the mug and offered it to me. “If you don’t drink it, she’ll try to feed it to you herself. Ask me how I know.”

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