Page 4 of Mic Drop

Ma matters more than any other living human being on earth. She needs me more than the clinics, more than his groin pull, more than any fallout from Lissa’s television interview.

And he was pretty high-handed about my using UC’s PR team to mop up the mess Michelle’s making at my clinics. He doesn’t seem to think I’m capable of handling it without help. My tears slow. I’ll show him.

I need to get home to Ma and set her up with the best doctors. Not that Kara and her husband aren’t fabulous, but they’re not oncology specialists. Who Ma needs. I stifle a sob.

The elevator doors open and I cross the lobby. I’ll purchase a plane ticket while I’m on my way to the airport, price be damned.

“Jenna!”

Who could that be? Probably some reporter looking for a newangle on the fake story they’re promoting. I don’t want to talk with anyone. I keep moving.

Footsteps resound over the foyer’s granite floor. “Jenna, wait!” A masculine hand grabs my forearm. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”

I spin on my heel. Tristan’s concerned brown eyes spear into me. Emotions beg to be let out, and I’m unable to stem the tide. The next thing I know, the new keyboardist’s arms envelop me while I cry it out. He whispers comforting platitudes into my ear while stroking my back. The fact it’s Darren’s replacement giving me comfort and not UC’s lead singer just makes me cry more.

When I’m somewhat under control, I remove myself from his person. “Sorry, Tristan.” For ruining his shirt, for being a drama queen, for using him when I really want to be with Bennett. “I need to leave.”

His more than five-o’clock shadow becomes convex as he sucks in his cheeks. “I can’t let you leave like this.”

I straighten. “I’m fine. I can handle this.”

“What’s wrong?”

Ma’s dying from cancer. Bile rises and all I manage to say is, “Airport.”

“If that’s what you want, I’ll get you a taxi.” Numbly, I nod and follow him rolling my suitcase to the sidewalk. The bellhop flags me down a taxi and puts my luggage into the trunk. Tristan bends down and looks deep into my eyes. “Whatever Bennett did, I’m sure running away isn’t the answer.”

I don’t have the strength to set him straight. Given that I probably won’t see him again, ever, I don’t bother to correct his wrong assumption. “I just need to get home.”

He opens the door and I slip into the seat. “You have my number, right?”

I don’t have a clue. To get rid of him, I lift my cell.

“Use it.” The door closes.

The only conversation I have with the driver is to confirm I’m going to the airport. While he drives, I purchase my one-way ticket to NYC, adding a five grand helicopter ride out to the Hamptons. At this point, my only concern is getting home to Ma as soon as possible. I’ll deal with the credit card bills later. Looking up, I tell the driver my airline and bang my head against the headrest. I’ll be home in a few short hours.

Keeping my nose down, I manage to get on the plane without anyone noticingtheBlack Widow in their midst. For once I don’t quibble about the extra cost, simply pay for Wi-Fi and spend the entire flight researching the best doctors and protocols and medicines for pancreatic cancer. None of the results give a positive prognosis. Ma will have to prove the entire field wrong.

At the airport, I retrieve my suitcase and follow the signs to the helicopter to the Hamptons. Exhausted, I arrive at the waiting room when my stomach protests its lack of food. If Bennett were here, he’d ask a roadie to get us some burgers.

Burgers.

Now all I want is a burger.

A café is located across the way, which I bet sells what I want. Seeing as there’s another hour before the helicopter departs, I cross the lounge area and place my order. My mouth opens to take my first bite when someone approaches me.

“Excuse me, are you traveling to the Hamptons?”

My long-awaited burger is lowered to the plate. “Yes. Ticket counter’s over there.” I point across the way.

The woman carrying a couple of leather suitcases nods. “Thank you. Are you excited to return home?”

What an odd question. I give a cryptic response, “It’s where I need to be.”

The traveler says, “Seems like your clinics would agree.”

What now?

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