Page 53 of Scrooge

“What do you mean, Dan is waiting?” I ask her, leaning against my desk, feeling the deep desire to sleep.

“Laurent called me. I am taking you home. You are too sick to be here.” Grabbing my briefcase, she slips my laptop inside.

“Sunflower, I appreciate the gesture, but I have to read through this contract, then I have a conference call with a new contact in Asia,” I say with a sigh, exhausted just thinking about it.

“I told Angela to cancel them all. I am taking you home,” she says softly yet firmly, everything now in my bag as she takes my hand. “Let’s go.” Her fingers slip through mine effortlessly, pulling me along, and while I have been sick before, I have never felt this level of concern from someone. It’s nice.

“You canceled them?” I ask as my feet seem to have a mind of their own as I follow her willingly.

“Yep,” she says, popping thePas she drags me past a grinning Angela.

“You are in on this too, aren’t you?” I ask Angela in a tone meant to sound like Doctor Evil, but it comes out in a murmured gargle because my throat is on fire.

“One hundred percent.” She rushes to get the elevator, hitting the buttons to my private basement. “Get better soon, sir. We will hold down the fort.”

“So Laurent called you?” I ask Haylee as the elevator doors close, leaning against the wall, my strength leaving me.

“He did. Then I called Dan and spoke to Mary. I am taking you home to bed, and I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

At that thought, I get a whole range of different scenarios playing out in my head of her taking me to bed, ones that are obviously written all over my face.

“You needsleep. Plus, you can barely stand,” she murmurs, looking at me from under her lashes. From the flush coloring her cheeks, maybe she was thinking the same thing. I can only hope. Guess I’ll need to get better first, though.

“I’m okay,” I tell her, pulling her to me, hating her being so worried. She ducks into my side the way she does, and I immediately feel better having her close. Her small body fits in with mine, and I kiss the top of her head. She worries after everyone, I’m starting to realize, and I feel somewhat privileged that I am included.

“You are not. You probably have the flu like Deloris,” she says, shaking her head against me, and it makes sense.

“I don’t get sick,” I say under my breath as the elevator opens, and Dan spots us, grabs my briefcase and opens the back car door for us.

“Well, apparently, you do,” she says with a lifted eyebrow. Pushing me into the car, I fall into the seat, relieved to be resting and letting her lead.

“I’ve never had a sick day.” My mission in life to be fit and healthy has been just as important to me as working hard in the business.

“This is going to be fun, then. Because man flu is the worst.” Her sarcasm has Dan chuckling, and I look at her as we start to drive.

“Man flu?” I ask her, wondering if that is a particular strain or something. Maybe I can be vaccinated against that.

“It hits men hard. They are in bed for days…” she says in an exaggerated tone, and I wonder if she is serious or not, but then I see her lips quirk. I lay my head back against the seat, close my eyes, and groan, extreme tiredness taking over my body. When I feel her cool hand hit my forehead, I sigh in contentment, needing her touch more than ever.

“Are you going to stay with me?” I ask. My eyes remain closed so I can’t see her reaction, but she doesn’t remove her touch from my face, and I’m thankful for it.

“Don’t worry. I will be with you the whole time.”

24

HAYLEE

He slept for twelve hours. The few moments he was awake, I fed him warm chicken soup that Mary made for us. I checked on him hourly, offered a cool cloth, gave him pain relief and a constant supply of water and liquids.

It’s exhausting, but there’s something about seeing this man, who is usually so put together, so in control, so hard with everyone else, now melted into a man who lets me take care of him. I know he wouldn’t let anyone else see him like this. Not even Mary, his housekeeper, can get too close without him shutting down. But he’s given me free rein over him and his house, and that’s how I know I’m getting the real him. Not the Scrooge everyone else thinks he is. That’s not who he really is at all.

After our kiss the other night, I wasn’t sure what to think. I mean, I enjoyed it and wanted more, but we have an agreement, a legal document, and I didn’t want to read too much into everything. And even though he’s sick and mostly sleeping, he has grabbed my hand and kept it in his, tried to keep me close, and in a way, this moment of sickness has allowed us to just be comfortable around each other at a very vulnerable time, in the confines of his penthouse without the world watching. It has been nice, and I’m feeling closer to him.

I left the shop in Mom’s and Jillian’s hands yesterday, and I’ve been here in his penthouse ever since. After Mary made the soup, I sent her home. No use having anyone else catching his disease, although so far, I have remained all clear. Surprising, really, since I have been seeing Deloris every day to check in on her, and now being with Alex.

I heard him in the shower earlier, so I slowly pad down the hall toward his room, wondering if he is awake. Peeking through the door, all is quiet and dark. The blinds are still drawn.

“You sneaking around?” he asks, sounding a little better, but he’s still congested.

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