Page 31 of Love and Cherish

Cherish had been right, the lights had helped ease the intensity of her current migraine. That and the last of her pills would kick the rest of it shortly.

“Why do I even bother giving people a chance? I don’t ask for blood, but I do ask for the ability to actually do the job you’re hired for. Even that seems to be too much to expect lately.”

“I don’t think she left because she didn’t want to work.” Cherish sat, relaxing into the chair that she normally did. Her body ached from the migraine, from tense shoulders to aching feet. Not that she would ever admit that, and definitely not to Febe.

Another scoff from Febe, and Cherish could see she was only just building up her rant that would go for at least half an hour. Normally, Cherish enjoyed being the one who could listen to Febe’s frustrations and help her work through the emotions she would never allow out during official work hours, but Cherish’s stomach churned with her own unsettled feelings.

“Of course she did. She’s not exactly the worker of the month, is she? She’s had long enough to learn what her job is.” Febe pursed her lips, as though she knew she had Cherish in checkmate on this one.

“Maybe not at the beginning. But you have to admit, she’s been trying.” Cherish slammed her lips back together, the words coming out with a snappiness she had never used with Febe before. Heat prickled in her cheeks, her chest constricted and limited her breathing.

“Trying?” Febe raised her right eyebrow at Cherish, head tilted ever so slightly, emphasizing the question, and the corners of her lips pulled up. Cherish knew this look. This was the look that would send her over the edge, falling at Febe’s feet to fulfill her desires.

If only those desires were more fun.

Cherish waited for the unease in her stomach to turn into the delicious attraction and warmth that look from Febe always brought her. She waited and waited. Instead, the unease increased, and she couldn’t name it. She didn’t want to.

“She’s not some lazy kid, Febe,” Cherish said sharply, darkness edging into the corner of her vision as her headache pounded behind her eyes. This was only making it worse, not better. She really should have gone home at the first sign of it.

“Cherish.” Febe closed her eyes and buried her fists into her hips. “I don’t need attitude right now. Not after this morning.” Febe’s voice broke on the last two words.

“All right.” Cherish swallowed audibly. Her head continued to split with every pulse of her blood. The tablets and dim light in the office had warded off the edges, but not enough for her to truly be able to concentrate. And her thoughts tumbled, unable to be snatched and deciphered. Why was she defending Haylee? Hadn’t she thought the exact same things about her just hours ago? Was Febe actually admitting this was hard on her?

Cherish lifted her fingers to her temples and rubbed slow circles against her skin. The pulse pushed against the pads of her fingertips.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

“Cherish?” Febe’s voice snapped Cherish to attention, and her eyes opened once more. “Are you okay?”

“It was a mistake. She knows that.” She wouldn’t actually answer Febe. She wouldn’t admit how much pain she was in—ever. Febe didn’t need more weight on her shoulders.

Febe pursed her lips, her hands still fisted at her sides. She stood straight as a board as she looked Cherish over. The silence was deafening. Cherish lifted her chin, looking Febe directly in the eye, prepared for exactly what she knew was coming.

“Start the termination process.”

The wind sucked out of Cherish’s lungs.

Cherish stood, ignoring the rush of blood to her head and the desire to fall back into the chair. “No.”

“Excuse me?” Febe rocked back, as if she’d been hit square in the chest. Cherish had wounded her. She knew it, but she wasn’t going to back down on this one. Not again.

“She made a mistake. Innocent, perhaps a little unfocused this morning, but she’s good at her job.” Cherish curled her fingers into her palm tightly, using the sensation to center herself as she dared to look Febe directly in the eye.

She’d never done this before.

Febe stared in bewilderment.

Cherish held her stare until her vision started to go in and out, blackness swarming in front of her gaze. What the hell was happening? She fell back into the chair and held her head in her hands. She was so hot, her skin clammy. Her heart raced, thundering as it threatened to go faster than ever before. She would not faint. She would not—

“Oh, Cherish,” Febe’s voice was soft, her fingers gentle against Cherish’s arm. The shuffling of Febe’s feet barely registered in Cherish’s thoughts. “Is it another migraine?”

Cherish whimpered through a grimace, but it was the only sound she could manage. Painful fireworks burst behind her eyes, and she was afraid if she opened them to look at Febe she would upend the contents of her stomach on Febe’s stilettos.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Febe stood up and rushed to her desk, riffling through it.

Cherish struggled to focus on anything.

“Here, please take these. I’ll take you home when you think you can move, unless we need to go get you another shot.” Febe pressed a bottle of painkillers into her hand, far stronger than the ones Cherish kept in her top drawer.

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