Page 110 of The Lieutenant

“I will.” I opened the door, the humid air hitting me.

“Don’t forget the day after tomorrow is the first production meeting.”

“I won’t forget.” I might still be heartsick, but I hadn’t lost my mind. I stood right where I was, both admiring and hating the sounds of the city. While I didn’t live anywhere close to Manhattan, my street quieter than most, I could still hear horns and tires screeching, people yelling and dogs barking. I’d heard none of that in Greece.

I’d felt so bad for over a week, worried my anxiety was the reason. With my head pounding and no aspirin or Tylenol in my apartment, I headed down the sidewalk to the drug store on the corner. Having one so close had been a godsend.

The little bell over the door rang as soon as I walked inside, the clerk looking up to see who’d walked in. I waved as I headed for the aisle, finding a huge bottle of pain reliever easily enough. As I reached for my wallet while heading to the counter, I passed a row that caught my eye. Stopping short, I studied the four shelves full of boxes, taking a deep breath the entire time. On a whim, I yanked one into my hand, taking both items up front.

The girl said nothing, merely eyeing me cautiously as she waited for me to scan the credit card. I was certain I looked haggard at this point. Tonight I wouldn’t allow anything or anyone to bother me.

As soon as I left, a crash occurred on the other side of the street and I jumped. What the fuck? On top of everything, I was a nervous wreck. I even dropped the bag of purchases. At least a laugh bubbled to the surface. I bent over and the earth around me suddenly shifted. Oh, shit. I felt faint.

After taking another deep breath, I rose to a standing position more slowly than I’d gone down. A man standing on the other side of the street caught my eye. Was he staring at me? Hell, yes, he was.

Inching closer to the edge of the sidewalk, I dragged hair behind my ears and shielded my eyes from the late afternoon sun. A bus rolled by, doing its best to avoid the collision.

When the huge vehicle passed two seconds later, I blinked several times.

The man wasn’t there. After searching both sides of the street, I had to face the fact I needed a long night of sleep. I was jumpy for no reason.

Laughing at myself, I hurried into the brownstone, deciding to take the stairs.

Big mistake.

By the time I made it to my floor, my nervousness from before got the better of me. The small lunch I’d dared myself to consume came roaring into my throat. I barely had time to unlock and throw open the door, racing into the bathroom and dropping onto the floor with a hard thud before I lost every bite I’d eaten.

Maybe this would be the final release of fear and apprehension.

After flushing the toilet, I remained crowded against the wall, slowly finding the energy to reach for my purse. I hated what I was doing to myself, the doubts that I’d never had before. But they weren’t about my work. With the first article ready to be printed, I was more confident than ever at my accomplishments.

Even if I’d had to forgo the truth.

Over four weeks later and I’d yet to hear anything from the Cosa Nostra Don. I pulled out my phone and leaned my head against the wall as I thought about calling my dad. I loved him and missed him, but we weren’t on the same page any longer.

He had left two voicemails. Had I subconsciously ignored them? I wasn’t certain. I had my finger on the redial button, but shifted to my photographs, easily finding the one I’d snapped quickly under the Eiffel Tower.

The photograph was almost goofy, enough so that looking at it all over again made me laugh. Havros couldn’t take a bad picture. I traced his face and brought the phone against my heart. I missed hearing his voice almost as much as being in his company.

I noticed the bag I’d flung onto the floor and snagged it before trying to stand. Just looking at myself in the mirror was painful. I had dark circles under both eyes, my hair no longer shiny. Maybe I needed vitamins.

Maybe I needed a CAT scan. I pulled out the two items, hesitating when I held the long box. I don’t know what pushed me into buying the kit. Maybe nerves. Maybe guilt. I almost tossed it under the counter when the little voice inside my head told me to take it.Just do it, the inner voice kept whispering in my ear.

Why not. It was quite possible it would alleviate some of the worry.

Or not.

I did my business, placing my purchases on the counter and washing my hands. After grabbing my phone, I headed for the kitchen, almost bumping into the wall from paying attention to the blank screen instead of where I was walking.

After grabbing the open bottle of wine and a glass, I took everything to my tiny living room. A glass in hand, I debated calling my father for a few seconds, but I knew he’d keep callinguntil I answered. He deserved to know his daughter was going to be successful.

I took a sip of the cabernet before dialing. He answered on the third ring. “Hi, Dad.”

“I was worried about you.”

“I’m fine. I’m doing very well. I have news.”

“I heard all about the movie you’re making,” he said gruffly.

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