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I’m grateful when Mosely arrives in the office for a new workday and catches me moping over my phone in the same clothes I was in last night. He flips a switch all the way past ‘concerned executive assistant’ into ’pushy family friend’. I’m getting dragged out of my office chair and separated from my phone. The next thing I know, my car is downstairs and Mosely’s driving me to my condo.
He whips an arm to the bathroom with a stiff finger that would make my dad proud.
I obey on autopilot, showering, shaving, and turning back into a decently-dressed and well-groomed human being.
Mosely stands and approaches me when I walk out. Resolutely, he fiddles with the buttons at my cuffs. He does the best thing in the world—acts like he didn’t just rescue me from a raging pity party and dives right back into business.
“Cullen would like a meeting. He’s asking when you’re free.”
A line Talia likes to say erupts in my head.How about neh-to-da-ver?Yaya has rendered me absolutely useless and I need to throw myself back into spreadsheets, contracts, and summaries to numb the pain. Talking to Cullen—to anyone, really—will take more energy than I have.
“I told him you’re free now,” Mosely says.
“I guess I’m free now,” I agree.
Back in the car, my assistant doesn’t ask me why he walked in to work this morning to see me looking like something scraped off the floor. We don’t talk about Yaya or anything other than our plans for the next quarter.
I make a mental note to give this man a pay raise.
Mosely slows the car in the hospital parking lot and I peer through the window. “Why are we here? Isn’t Cullen coming to the office?”
“Not possible, sir.”
“Did something happen last night? Did he get worse?”
“He said it wasn’t anything to be concerned about, but he asked if you could meet him here.”
Nothing to be concerned about? Generally, people don’t have business meetings in a hospital unless things are dire.
I’m worried when I knock on the sliding room door. I had Cullen upgraded to a VIP room so he could work in peace and not disturb the other patients. He was spending all night on his computer even after multiple complaints. I don’t think Cullen is ill-intended, but whatever screws are supposed to keep his social filter in place are kind of loose.
I stalk into the hospital room on high alert and find Cullen hooked up to IV drips and giant monitors. The psycho blandly tosses a greeting at me before diving into a monotone explanation of the data leak solution he came up with.
I lift a hand to stop him. “Who said you could take off your oxygen mask?” I point to the contraption that’s leaning on the edge of the bed like a forgotten toy.
“Oh that?”
“Oh that?” I mock. “Mosely.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Get the nurse. And tell them they might have to strap Mr. Cullen’s hands down while he’s receiving treatment.”
Cullen gives me the stink eye.
I return it. I never had a little brother, but this guy is so clueless I can’t help but think of him as one.
Mosely leaves to find a nurse and I march toward the bed.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” I snap.
“If I wanted death, I would have worked on the data leak at home rather than coming here.” He gives me a blank stare.
“Life isn’t a game, kid. You should be focused on getting better. That’s the most important thing.”
“Not in my books. I have two equally important things to do.”
“Two important…” I let out a disbelieving laugh. “What’s more important than your health?”