Page 18 of Slap Shots & Sweethearts

Tiffany narrows her eyes at me, clearly she wasn't done with the matter even if her boss said it was. We'll be doing the same song and dance at the next meeting together on whatever expense she didn't like me submitting. The rest of the meeting wraps up with a lot less scrutiny.

By the time I am able to return to my office, all I want is to slip behind my desk and sit in a few minutes of blissful silence as the pills settle in. I am halfway to my office when Matt comes out of the break room, a muffin in his hand.

"Any lemon bars for Lou?" Matt asks me.

I shake my head, and the motion makes my head hurt worse, and my stomach starts to turn. I need to get to my pills fast. "No, Maria said she burned them. And even if she dislikes him, she despises serving anything but her best."

"Did you get one earlier... what's wrong?" he asks me.

"I'll be fine. I didn't drink enough water yesterday."

He guides me into the break room so effortlessly and has a glass of water in my hand a minute later. "Drink that. I'll get you another one to take to your office."

I sip at the water slowly at first so I can see how my stomach will handle it. The last thing I want to do is throw up in front of him. Food will be better for the pills I need to take. The box from Maria's bakery is relatively full as I'd barely had time to drop it off before running to the meeting.

The banana nut muffin I pick to be safe, is my first mistake. The big bite I take is my second. It tastes too much like cinnamon because I didn't grab a banana one. I try to choke it down gracefully, but my body forgets how to swallow. The longer the muffin bite sits on my tongue the more my stomach rolls in revulsion.

Without a word, I shove the glass in Matt's hand and run for the bathroom. Once my body is finished rejecting the muffin, my head feels like an ice pick is being plunged into my eyeball. I use a paper towel from the dispenser and run it under cold water and place it on the back of my neck to try and help the pain. I thank my lucky stars I haven't gotten anything on my black power suit.

"Don't tell me you have morning sickness," Tiffany says as she comes out of a stall. "I don't want to hear you be sick in here for nine months."

"Very much not pregnant."

"That's too bad. At least then you'd have an excuse for your stomach."

I don't have the energy to deal with Tiffany and her hurtful words. Instead of saying something I simply leave the bathroom and turn towards my office.

Matt stands just outside, a can of ginger ale in his hand. His shirt is much wetter than it had been before.

"Did I do that?" I ask him and point at his shirt.

He looks down, then back up at me. "I should have had faster reflexes."

"I'm so sorry." I close my eyes, one, so I can't see what I've done. But two, so that the light will stop its attack on my eyeballs.

"I texted Lou. He said to get you ginger ale, and electrolytes."

"Thank you." I take the ginger ale from him, and he gestures with his hand towards my office.

We walk together, and when we get there Matt holds out my chair for me to sit. Then he turns off the lights, which only helps a little as the hallway lights are bright as they shine through the open door.

"What can I do?" he asks, his voice much quieter than normal which I appreciate down to my bones.

"Unless you have a bed hidden somewhere, just let me enjoy the silence." I pull the pills out of my purse and take two.

"I can drive you home so you can get some proper rest."

"I'll be fine."

"Hannah. If my cousin Ivy has taught me anything, it’s that fine is never that."

We're in a standoff.

Matt's arms are crossed, which pulls his wet shirt tighter across his chest. I'm half convinced he does it because I can't remember what I'm arguing about anymore. I have one eye open to stare back at him, my other eye is too sensitive with the ice pick sensation happening. I half ogle and half stare at him until Lou barges in. The noise from his entrance makes me wish I were home with a blanket over my head blocking out everything. The best I can do in my office is cover my eyes with my hands.

"Sorry," Lou starts to say, then says more softly. "I told Stuart. You have the rest of the day off."

I drop my hands, and use my one good eye to glare at him. I'm a grown woman, my brother does not run my life. Stubbornness wraps around me in a shield of defiance. "I'll be fine."

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