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“What’s that?”
“If you upset her, I’ll bust your face open.”
“Threatening your boss?”
Thankfully, he heard a tinge of amusement in Ash’s tone. Threatening friends was not his style, but if Ash let loose on her, Xavier would be pissed. Advising him beforehand to prevent it from happening had seemed appropriate.
“Respectfully,” Xavier added.
Ash barked out a laugh. “Never heard of a respectful threat, but okay. And you know I’m not going to go off on her.”
“Yeah, I know. Just wanted to make sure.”
“So is she around?”
“She’s still asleep. I can?—”
“Is that Ash?”
Xavier whirled to see Jazz standing in the doorway. Her hair tousled around her face, she was dressed in the T-shirt he’d worn to bed, which reached past her knees, and a pair of yoga pants, and she looked both sexy and adorable.
“Yeah,” Xavier said. “He’s just calling in to see how you’re doing.”
“Did you say anything about?—”
“No,” he cut in quickly. “That’s for you to explain.”
Okay, this was it. Taking a bracing breath, Jazz went to Xavier and held out her hand for the phone. Pushing her hair back, she pressed the phone to her ear. “Ash?”
“Hey, Jazz. You feeling better?”
“Yes, getting stronger every minute.”
“Good.”
“Listen, there’s something I need to say, and I want to do it face-to-face. Can you arrange that?”
“Yes. Give me about five minutes to set up a secure line, and I’ll call you back.”
“Okay, thanks.”
She handed Xavier’s phone back to him with a slight grimace. “He’s calling back in a few minutes.”
“Have you had coffee?”
“No, not yet.”
“I’ll get you some.” The instant he stood, he pulled her into his arms and spoke into her ear. “Everything will be okay.”
Before she could answer, he pressed a kiss to her cheek and walked away.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Jazz looked out over the mountain range. For some reason, she hadn’t been nearly as anxious last night when she’d told Xavier the truth. Confessing it to Ash gave her the heebie-jeebies. He could fire her on the spot. She didn’t think he would, but she also knew he’d be justified. She’d broken a multitude of OZ rules, and he had every right to come down hard on her.
“Here,” Xavier said behind her, “take a few fortifying sips. You’ll feel better.”
“Thanks.” She took several swallows of the scalding, bracing brew, appreciating that the cream-to-sugar ratio was just the way she liked it. With each sip, she did feel slightly stronger.
“He’s not going to tear into you, Jazz. Or fire you.”