Page 66 of The Best Number

She nods, gesturing for me to go ahead. I tap on the answer button and hold the phone up to my ear.

“Jack!” I hear Cassidy shout my name.

“Cass—are you okay? What’s wrong?” The background of the call sounds loud. I can’t work out where she is. And with the added noise from the deli, it’s hard to hear anything at all. The connection’s bad and I can only make out the odd word of whatshe’s saying. It’s difficult to work out if she sounds happy or upset.

“Cass, I don’t know if you can hear me, but the connection is really bad. Let me head back to the office and find a quiet space. I’ll call you back.”

The call cuts off abruptly. When I check the screen it says ‘call failed’. Hopefully, she heard what I said. I feel the need to rush, not having a clue what’s going on. I check the group chat and messages and can’t see anything new. I look across to Tara.

“Everything okay?” she asks, looking concerned.

“To be honest, I’m not sure. I need to call her back. Sorry to desert you, but I think I’ll wrap my sandwich and head back to the office. Is that okay?”

She looks disappointed but nods her acceptance. I gather my Reuben sandwich and iced coffee to rush off.

When I get there, I find an empty meeting room, closing the door before trying Cass’s number. No answer. On the third attempt, I get her voicemail and leave a message explaining I couldn’t hear her but am keen to speak to her and check she’s okay.

I try Tom’s phone, but that goes straight to voicemail, which makes me think it’s off or he’s on another call. To Cassidy, perhaps? I drop a message in the group chat to check everyone is okay and try my best to get on with work and finish the week strong. But when there’s still no word from either Tom or Cassidy a couple of hours later, I’ve never felt further away.

Chapter thirty

Cassidy

Igroan as I open my eyes and the room whirls around. I want nothing more than to curl back under the covers, hoping that I’ll feel better after more sleep. I tentatively move my head to look at my alarm clock and see that it’s close to midday.

I got to bed around 4 am from what I can remember. But it had taken a while to fall asleep. I shift my hand across the bed to feel beside me. My hand encounters warm, firm flesh. A hairy male thigh. That’s good. He’s here too. I don’t remember much from the night before. It’s not like me to drink like that. But I’d been talked into shots and it had all gone downhill from there.

I let my eyes flutter close and snuggle down further, eager to get more rest. But then I hear it. Banging.Ah, that must have been what woke me the first time. Damn it. I’ll just lay here and it will go away, I’m sure of it. But whoever it is, is impatient. The banging sound comes again. I groan. I try to sit up, but it’s hard. Everything feels too bright and my head is pounding. But I have to do something to stop the noise. I’m going to have to suck it upand get out of this bed and shout at whoever it is to fuck off.Who could it even be?It better not be fucking Grant. I’m not in the mood for him today.

I manage to move to the edge of the bed and pull on some pyjamas I find lying around. It feels like slow progress and I wonder why the person hasn’t given up and gone away yet. But I can still hear something going on. I push up from the bed and pause for a second to get my bearings. I take a longing glance back to the man laying there, asleep and not inconvenienced by the banging.How is he sleeping through this?

I shuffle out of my bedroom to the front door. There’s no banging now and I’m grateful, as I’m not convinced my head would be able to take it as I move closer to the source of the noise. I look through the spy hole and see nothing.For fuck’s sake!I made all this effort to get to the door and now they’ve sodding gone. I decide to open up in case it was an overzealous delivery person and there’s some kind of package waiting outside that will make all this discomfort worth it. But I’m disappointed when I swing the door wide and there’s nothing to be found.

I sigh and start to close the door when I hear footsteps and then “Cass?”

No. It can’t be. I must still be drunk from last night. That sounds like…and then he’s there, standing in front of me, looking flustered as hell. His hair is pointing in every direction possible. He looks shattered, with dark circles under his eyes.

“Jack.” I try to say it clearly, but it comes out as a pitiful whisper. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you okay? Is Tom okay? I couldn’t get hold of either of you. What’s happening?”

I’m so confused. I’m staring at him, still trying to make sense of Jack standing here in front of me when he’s supposed to be over three thousand miles away on the other side of the Atlantic.

“I don’t understand.” I frown with confusion. “How are you here?” He takes a step closer and opens up his arms. I worry that a hug will hurt my head, and everything else that’s wrecked in my very hungover body, but as his arms close around my back and gather me closer, it feels wonderful.

Fuck, I missed him. So damn much.

Tears spring to my eyes. It’s so good to have him here, even if I don’t have a clue what’s going on.

“Doll, where’s Tom? Is he okay? I’ve been so worried.”

“He’s here, possibly in the same state as me, but he didn’t wake up, so I don’t know.” Jack has eased back to watch my face as I try to explain, even though I’m baffled.

“He won’t wake up? Why isn’t he in the hospital? What happened?”

“I don’t think there’s much a hospital can do for a hangover, Jack. We clearly brought it on ourselves,” I say with an eye roll.

He lets out a huge sigh. “May I come in?”

---