Indiscretion

“Morning.” I nodded as I walked past Naomi’s desk.

She frowned. “What’s so good about it?”

I lifted a brow. “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

Naomi ignored me and went back to typing.

Okay then. I’d worked with enough women to know how to handle one in a mood, so I took the bag in my hand—with the coconut cake pop I couldn’t resist buying at Starbucks this morning—and set it on her desk. “Got this for you.”

She narrowed her eyes and growled at me. Growled. So I hauled ass to my office and shut the door. I didn’t have time to worry about what was up Naomi’s ass after that. My morning consisted of two conference calls and putting out one fire after the next. It was after one by the time I emerged again, and I’d forgotten all about my paralegal’s mood.

Speaking of moods… My own significantly improved as I walked to the copy machine and got an eyeful of Naomi from the back, wearing a red dress. I smiled as I approached, but when she turned and gave me the death glare, it wilted.

“Do you need to use the machine?” she asked.

“After you. I’m not in a rush.”

She sighed. “Just give them to me. I’ll do it for you.”

“I can make my own copies.”

I had a four-page evidence list in my hand. She plucked it from my fingers. “One set?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Whish. Slam. She opened and closed the copier with enough rage that I was surprised the lid didn’t crack.

“Did I do something to upset you?” I asked.

“I’m not upset.”

“So this is you happy?”

She scowled again. “Is it a requirement of my job to smile?”

“No. But it’s a small office, and it’s kind of hard to ignore when someone looks like they want to bite me.”

She ignored my comment and finished making the copies. While I waited, I replayed our interaction from earlier. I was usually pretty good at saying or doing the wrong thing, but I hadn’t had an opportunity to do either yet, so it couldn’t have been me who’d upset her. At least not today. So I thought back further, to our last interaction on Saturday. Had we argued and I’d forgotten about it? Then it hit me. She had that date last night.

“How was the art gallery?” I asked.

She whipped around with my papers in hand and put her hands on her hips. “Why would you ask that?”

I shrugged. “No reason. Just making conversation.”

Her lips pursed as she stared at me in silence. I wanted to take a step back, but I stood my ground. Eventually she held out the copies. “Is there anything else you need?”

As much as I wanted to keep needling her, get under her skin until I got to the bottom of what her problem was today, my afternoon was packed with shit to do—even more than my morning had been. So I shook my head and went back to my office, throwing myself into drafting a brief that had to be filed by the end of the day.

In the zone, I’d nearly forgotten all about the woman on the other side of the door—at least until I was filing the case I’d been working on in the credenza nearest my door and heard a cell phone ring. It wasn’t my intention to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help overhearing, especially when Naomi’s voice rose.

“Where are you? Are you okay?” she asked.

Quiet.

“Did you call nine-one-one?”

More quiet.

“You really should go to the hospital, Frannie.”

And finally…

“Well, then I’m coming to you. Where are you?”

A drawer opened and shut. Right after, a zipper did the same.

“Hoboken? What are you doing there?”

Silence.

“Alright. Well, sit in the café until I get there at least. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Send me a pin of your location. I’m leaving now.”

I walked out of my office just as Naomi lifted her purse to her shoulder. “I have to go,” she said. “I’m sorry. My sister passed out in New Jersey.”

“How are you getting there?”

She stopped short. “Shoot. What subway do I take to Hoboken?”

“You don’t. You take the PATH.”

“The what?”

“The PATH train. It’s how you get to New Jersey from the City.”

“Where do I board it?”

I made a split-second decision. “Let me grab my keys. I’ll give you a ride. My car is parked in the lot around the corner.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do.” I walked back into my office, swiped my keys from my desk, and we rode the elevator down to the ground floor together. I could tell how upset she was by the red blotches that had broken out on her neck and chest—that and she didn’t argue with me enough about driving her. She stayed quiet from the walk to the car all the way through the Holland Tunnel.

Naomi was a million miles away as she looked out the car window. “Her kids don’t know,” she eventually said.

“Your sister’s kids?”

She nodded.

“How old are they?”

“Molly is eight, and Ryder is ten.” She sighed. “They don’t know about her illness, but they definitely know something is wrong. Ryder asked me the other day if he did something to upset his mother.”

My heart sank. “That’s tough. I assume she hasn’t told them to protect them?”

She nodded. “Their father went to work one day and never came home. Car accident. A tractor trailer driver fell asleep at the wheel.”

“Shit.”

“She doesn’t want them to worry that one day she won’t come home.”

I swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “I apologize for being snippy with you this morning.”

“It’s okay.”

She smiled halfheartedly. “It’s not really. Even if I feel like you planted something in my head that had a domino effect, you’re my boss, and I handled it inappropriately.”

“I knew we’d be a good team.” I looked over and winked. “Inappropriate is my middle name.”

She smiled again, but this time it wasn’t as sad. “Thank you for taking me to my sister.”

“Of course. Anytime I can help.” The fucked-up thing was, I meant it. It wasn’t just an empty offer. I wanted to help Naomi. I didn’t care that it meant my work would get even more backed up.

Once we got to New Jersey, her sister’s location was only a few miles away. Naomi looked at her phone and pointed up ahead. “The red awning. I think that’s it. She said it was called Rosa’s.”

I pulled to the curb in front of a small café. Naomi rushed to open the car door. “Thank you for the ride.”

“I’m not leaving you here. I’ll drive you both home.”

“We’ll be okay. She’ll know how to take the subway or the PATH whatever.”

“Your sister just passed out. She shouldn’t be riding the train.” I didn’t give her time to think it over. Instead, I got out and walked around the car. “Come on. I’m bigger than you in case she’s not steady on her feet.”

I would’ve known which woman had passed out even if Naomi hadn’t made a beeline to the lady sitting alone at the front of the restaurant. Her gray color and frail frame screamed sick. I tried not to let the way it made me feel show on my face as I followed Naomi to the table.

Naomi dropped down and squatted in front of her sister. “How are you feeling?”

“Nauseated and lightheaded. I just need to lie down for a while.”

“You don’t look so good, Frannie.”

“I’m fine. The doctor said this could happen. It’s part of the side effects of the treatment.”

“I think you should go to the hospital. You look terrible.”

Frannie started to get up, but fell back into the seat. I rushed to her side and kept the chair from toppling over.

Naomi frowned and looked at me. “This is Dawson. My boss.”

The woman looked up with a weak smile. “The good-looking jerk.”

“That’s me.” I grinned. “Nice to meet you, too.”

Naomi chuckled, but bent and pulled her sister’s arm over her shoulder for support. “You aren’t supposed to repeat the things I tell you, Frannie.”

There was no way in hell this woman could’ve taken the train home. It was an effort just to get her to the car parked right out front. Once we got back through the tunnel and into the City, she fell asleep and snored a bit.

“I wish she would take some time off work,” Naomi whispered. “Her job takes a lot out of her. She has to travel all over the tri-state area.”

“What does she do?”

“She’s in sales. Sells restaurant POS systems.”

When we stopped at the light, I glanced back over my shoulder. “She seems pretty weak to be doing much of anything right now.”

“I know. I’m going to try to talk her into going to the hospital once we get home. The chemo has destroyed her strength.”

“What will you tell the kids?”

Naomi sighed. “If I can convince her to go, I guess I’ll tell them she has a stomach bug, that she ate something bad.”

I’d obviously never met her niece and nephew, but kids were smart. I still remembered my mother telling me everything was going to be fine after my dad was arrested—that it was all a big misunderstanding. I’d known that was a lie. Though, it wasn’t like it was Naomi’s decision to make, and sharing my experience of being lied to as a kid would only add to her stress. So I kept my mouth shut and drove.

Frannie was still asleep in the backseat when I pulled up to her apartment downtown. There wasn’t anywhere close by to park, and the less she had to walk, the better. So I pressed the button to put on my hazards and double parked behind a UPS truck.

“I’ll let you guys out here. But I’ll wait to see if you can get her to go to the hospital. I’ll give you a ride, if she agrees.”

“You’ve already done enough. If I can make her go, I’ll call an Uber. You don’t have to stay.”

“And put her in it alone?”

“No. I’ll go with her.”

“What about the kids?”

“Shoot. I wasn’t thinking.” Naomi chewed on her lip. “She’s friendly with the elderly woman who lives across the hall. I’ll see if she can watch them.”

“I’m going to stick around for a while, just in case. I can’t park here, but I’ll circle the block in case you can get her to agree. There’s no rush.”

Naomi put a hand on my shoulder and smiled sadly. “Thank you for everything, Dawson.”

Naomi gently woke her sister, and I watched them disappear into the building, taking slow steps that weighed heavily on my heart. Once they were inside, I looked at my watch. It was 4:15 now, so I figured I’d give her a half hour to talk some sense into her sister. If I didn’t hear from her, maybe I’d shoot off a text before I left.

Though I ended up not having to wait that long. Five minutes later, my phone rang. I answered, half expecting Naomi to tell me to leave. But that wasn’t what she said at all.

“Help! My sister just vomited blood.”