Morgan squatted in front of me and removed my black dress shoes and socks. I watched her, wondering what went through her mind. She was taking care of me. Why?
‘Take your pants off. I’m going to see if I can find a t-shirt in your room. Is that okay?’ she asked, turning back.
‘There are some white cotton shirts in the armoire,’ I helped. I should just go in my bed. That was a nice thought. I didn’t feel like I could move. I was barely strong enough to remove my dress slacks.
I held the not so cool cloth over my face, observing all the unwanted feelings. Sitting up, wearing only black designer boxers and my unbuttoned shirt, Morgan pulled on the end of my sleeve, helping me out of my shirt.
‘I don’t want that,’ I whined when she tried to put the t-shirt over my head.
‘Lay down,’ she commanded. I looked at her, seeing something in her that I’d never seen before. She wasn’t being a bitch, she wasn’t looking at me in anyway but empathy, like she cared. I didn’t get it. I scooted up to the end of the overstuffed sofa, dropped my head, and moaned.
The room was dark when I woke. I could feel the inside of my mouth start to water. The room felt like the walls were closing in when I opened my eyes, feeling a bit of vertigo. I didn’t even see Morgan, sitting in the chair, but as soon as I sat up she was right there, right there holding the trashcan. Thank god she thought of that. I would have never made it to the bathroom.
She disappeared while I hurled what was in my stomach and then dry heaved. I was going to die. I wanted to die. This was the worse feeling in the world.
‘Here, drink some of this,’ Morgan said, holding the glass to my lips, forcing me to sip it. I waited a second, needing to see if it was going to stay down. It did and I sipped it again.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked, lightly wrapping my fingers around her dainty wrist. She gave me a warm smile and pulled away without an answer. I watched her walk back to the chair she’d been sitting in and pick up her book. She opened it to her place, ignored me, and took up reading by the dim lit lamp.
‘Lay down,’ she demanded, peaking over the top of the book. I smiled and dropped back to the pillow.
I watched her read, wondering for the first time about her. I wanted to ask her questions about her life before me, I wanted to know things about her. Jesus, I wanted to know her. I was delusional. It was the fever. It had to be the fever. Closing my eyes, I tried to relax and tell myself I wasn’t going to get sick.”
Chapter 22
Drew’s story continued, “I smelled Morgan’s expensive perfume before I saw her. ‘Hey,’ she softly spoke with her hand on my bare chest. My fingers found hers on their own accord. She pulled hers away. I opened my eyes, trying to determine whether or not I felt better. I needed to feel better. I had a client coming at two. She was no doubt feeling better. She looked amazing. She’d showered, her hair was perfect, and she wore a black pencil skirt with a light pink satin blouse. A bright studded belt with diamonds and pink ice gems circled her waist.
‘Take a drink of this,’ she coaxed. I took the glass, deciding that I didn’t feel any better. I just wanted to lay down and die until this passed. ‘Can you get up? I ran you a cool bath. You need to go to your room and sleep. You have a client coming. Derik is going to take care of it for you.’
‘You stay the fuck out of my business,’ I angrily demanded, instantly getting mad at her. I probably would have hit her had I had the energy.
‘I don’t really care about your business,’ she retaliated, pulling my hand to get up. ‘Derik called your phone about fifty times. I finally answered it and told him that you were sick. He said to tell you to rest and he’d be here to present the deal.’
‘Where is my phone?’ I asked, looking around.
‘Right there,’ she motioned to the table behind the sofa. ‘I put it on silent so it didn’t wake you. Derik had your calls forwarded to him. He told me to tell you that,’ she added. She didn’t want me to think she had anything to do with it. Standing, I really didn’t care. I felt like my legs were going to give out and not hold me. They shook and my uneasy stomach moved to my throat.
‘I want to lie down,’ I said, walking through the house in nothing but my boxers.
‘You need to take a bath. You smell, plus, you’re still pretty hot. It’ll help with the fever.’
Normally I would have protested. I honestly didn’t have the energy to do that. I barely managed to slide out of my shorts and make into the bath without toppling over.
‘You want me to help you bath?’ Morgan asked.