Terri followed his gaze to see that it was four a.m., definitely early. And apparently Friday morning. She pondered that information. Terri had known somewhere in the back of her mind that it was Friday morning, but it hadn't occurred to her until Bastien's cousin said it, that this meant she'd now been in New York for a week. Only one week. She marveled over that fact for a moment. She had only met Bastien a week ago. It felt as if a lifetime had passed. It was hard to recall what her life had even been like without him. He was so ingrained in her thoughts now, it seemed as if Bastien had always been in her life, or at least had always belonged there.
"Food poisoning," Vincent muttered again with a shake of his head. "How has the guy survived to this age? He'll never make it to thirty."
"I think he is thirty," Terri said.
"Is he?" Bastien asked.
Terri hesitated. Kate had mentioned the editor and his age in an e-mail to her the fall before. It had been his birthday at the time. But she wasn't now sure what age her cousin had said. "I think so. Twenty-nine or thirty."
"Well then, he won't make it to thirty-five," Vincent predicted.
Terri smiled, then merely said, "Kate never mentioned him being accident-prone. I think this is just an unlucky streak."
"An unlucky streak?" The actor laughed. "Terri, sprained ankles and stubbed toes make up unlucky streaks. This guy is a walking calamity. Instead of calling him C.K. we should call him C.C.—for Calamity Chris."
Terri smiled wider, then said, "It was probably the casserole that made him sick. All three of us tried every dish that the caterers sent over, but just a bite of each. Chris is the only one who ate a lot of anything, and that was the chicken casserole."
"We ate the trifle. Or shared it, at least," Bastien reminded her, his voice dropping to an intimate tone.
Terri blushed as his words brought memories of the past evening sharply back to mind.
"But you're right—Chris is the only one who really ate the casserole. We only had a bite each," Bastien remembered with a nod. "You didn't like it."
"And you said there was something in it that you just didn't take to," she reminded him.
"Yeah, salmonella. That's what you didn't like, and you didn't take to," Vincent commented, pointing at first one then the other. Then he turned an impatient glance back to the busy E.R. waiting area. "How much longer do you suppose they're going to keep him?"
Bastien shook his head wearily. "I hope not much longer. I could use some sleep."
"Yeah, me too. I want to be well rested for the trip this weekend."
Terri turned to Vincent in surprise. "What trip?"
"I'm leaving this afternoon to go home to California for the weekend," he told her. "I'm missing my old haunts."
"Oh?" Bastien asked with interest. "What's her name?"
"I said my old haunts, not a woman," Vincent pointed out.
"Uh huh." Bastien grinned, then repeated, "What's her name?"
His cousin hesitated, his mouth twisting with displeasure. At last he gave in and muttered, "No one you know."
Bastien opened his mouth, but before he could pursue the matter further, a woman in a white coat opened the door to the waiting area and called out, "Bastien Argeneau?" She glanced around.
He was on his feet and at the woman's side at once. Terri and Vincent watched as the two spoke, then he followed her back through the door.
"Hmm." Vincent sat up a little straighter and glanced at her. "What do you suppose that's about?"
Terri shook her head. She didn't have any idea, but it didn't seem like a good thing. The good thing would have been a pale and weak but recovering Chris Keyes coming out to the waiting room ready to return to the penthouse.
They both fell silent as they waited. As the minutes ticked by, Terri found her gaze sliding around the emergency waiting area, something she'd been able to avoid while the men were talking. They'd distracted her from where she was. It was better for her to be distracted. The first trip with Chris had been easier because it had all been in panic. By the time they'd reached the hospital, the editor had almost been blue from his difficulty breathing. There had been all that rush and fuss when they'd arrived. They'd all of them been hurried through the waiting area and into one of the examination rooms to answer the questions the doctors were barking—questions Chris hadn't been able to answer in his state. Then Vincent, Bastien, and Terri had been hustled out into the hallway to wait while the professionals worked. But they hadn't had to wait long, and Terri had been so worried about Chris she hadn't had a chance to worry much about where she was.