Angel Falling (Falling #1)(85)
I nodded. “Yeah, I will. Oliver made an appointment for tomorrow, actually.”
The evening had flown by and I’d fallen asleep before Hank even made it home from a dinner meeting. The next morning I slipped out of bed and met Ollie in the spare room that I’d had renovated into a closet and vanity area after Hank moved in. Hank’s closet was now the one off the master bath.
Over the past couple months, Hank and Ollie had gotten past any insecurity over each other’s place in my life, but my cowboy was not compromising on Oliver’s intrusive ways. He would not accept the man coming into our room to wake me. He also preferred he not be anywhere near our morning routine of getting ready. Bought me a silk robe for every day of the week, too, so that I wouldn’t be traipsing around in front of my best friend naked anymore. I knew he wasn’t being controlling, he just had old-fashioned morals and appreciated modesty more than I did.
“You ready to get your shit fixed?” Ollie asked as he handed me a black pantsuit and a silver silk blouse.
“Honestly, Ollie, I know you mean well, but there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m just tired. We’ve all been working ourselves to the bone, and Hank and I often choose to spend the evenings wrapped up in one another instead of getting that much needed sleep.”
He smirked. “Uh huh. Whatever. I’ve heard of people like you who have been exhausted all the time, with extreme levels of fatigue, and they had cancer!” He put his hands on his hips.
“What the hell, Ollie? That’s a messed-up thing to say. Are you trying to scare me?”
“Hell yes! I’m scared as shit. You have no idea how many diseases Web MD says you have right now!” His tone was serious but his eyes told another story.
“You’re full of it. I’ll go to the damn doctor. Stop diagnosing me, for crying out loud. I don’t have cancer; I’m just under the weather. I probably have the flu.”
“You could have walking pneumonia and not even know it!”
I rolled my eyes. “Ollie,” I warned. “Call the limo around, please.”
Ollie meant well, but sometimes he could take the cake with his ridiculous ideas. But there was a modicum of truth to his thoughts. I had felt like death warmed over for the better part of two months now. It had to be stress and fatigue. Could I handle if it was something more serious? Cancer? No, no, no. My best friend just had me freaking out for no reason. Walking pneumonia. Was that a possibility? I had been on a ten-day course of antibiotics for a sinus infection shortly after we went to Coney Island. Maybe I just needed another round.
A couple of hours later, the doctor led me back out into the waiting room to meet up with Ollie. I’d forced him to stay there, even though it took the promise of a night at one of New York’s finest restaurants for the four of us to get him to agree. Sometimes my best friend hovered like a helicopter mom. This time I was grateful for his protectiveness. One look at my pale face and he ushered me out and into the limo.
“Pen, okay. I’m ready. What’s wrong?” his eyes were filled with unshed tears. “You’re white as a ghost, tell me!” he screamed.
I handed him the piece of paper that sealed my fate.
“Oh. My. Fucking. God!”
***
My Angel was quiet—too quiet—as she sat and looked out the window of the limo. We had dinner reservations at a fancy-pants restaurant uptown. I didn’t quite hate the city anymore, but I could definitely live without the hustle and bustle of the traffic, people always in a hurry, running into one another, and all the gourmet crap. Every time we ate out at one of the places Aspen chose, I always left hungry. We’d have to stop by Fat Johnny’s Hot Dog Stand on the way home. A big man like me didn’t fill up on a speck of meat and a few stalks of asparagus. I needed a ten or twelve ounce steak, a ladleful of mashed potatoes, and a heap of corn to fill the gullet. Throw in a couple pints and you had a happy man.
“Darlin’, what’s the matter?”
“Hmmm?”
“I asked you what’s peckin’ at your brain.”
“I love you, Hank. All your pieces.” She smiled, but it was strange and completely out of the blue.
“Tell me, Angel. What’s the matter? What did the doctor say today? You sick?”
My gut twisted at the thought of my girl being sick. I'd been nervous all day waitin’ to find out the results of all the tests she was gonna have. Oliver had me in a fit with all his printouts from some doctor website that claimed she could have a hundred different diseases … many of which ended in early death. Sweat broke out on my forehead; the hairs on my neck stood at attention as I prepared to hear the worst.
She looked out the window as we arrived at the location. “Let’s chat inside. I’m hungry,” she said as she pulled across me and hopped out.
I took a deep breath and followed the love of my life inside, hoping to God whatever ailed her could be cured. Please, God in Heaven, don’t take away the Angel you sent now that I’ve got her back.
We settled into her preferred table. Having tons of money got her into all kinds of special places. I couldn’t care less, but she seemed to enjoy it, and I enjoyed her being happy.
I ordered a beer and she bypassed the wine, which added to my theory that my life was about to change. She took her time ordering her dinner, substituting fish for chicken, which was strange. She loved seafood and ordered it on most occasions when we ate out. She looked at everyone but me. Those damned alarm bells were chiming like mad.