Cardinal (7 page)

“Yeah. The sharks are my favorite. Do you have
a favorite?”

I think for a second. “I like the jellyfish. Oh! 
And the glow-in-the-dark seahorses.”

Oliver crinkles his nose. “The sharks should be
your favorite.”

I smile. “Why?”

“They’re like the superheroes of the ocean,” he
says. “There’s good guys and bad guys, but mostly good.” He looks serious when
he gives me his reason.

“You’re very persuasive,” I say. “Maybe I’ll
change my mind when I see the sharks.”

“You haven’t seen them?”

“Nope. This is my first time here.”

Oliver’s soft brown eyes consume his face. He
can’t believe it. “You have to see them!  I’ll take you after we find my uncle.
I can tell you about all the sharks, even the Great White. They don’t have any Great
White’s here, but I know all about them. They’re just like the one in
Jaws.
”

The kid knows his predators. “You’ve seen that
movie?  Wasn’t it scary?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “All the blood was
fake.”

Alright, then. The music alone creeps me out.

We make it to the exhibit exit and head up the
stairs to the next level of the aquarium. When we reach the top, I immediately
spot two security guards having a discussion and point at them. “Let’s go ask
for some help.”

Oliver walks with me over to the guards. When
we get close, he grabs my hand, almost like he’s nervous. I squeeze his fingers
to let him know everything will be okay.

“Hi,” I interrupt the men. “This little boy is
lost. He can’t find his uncle.”

One of the guards leans down to look at Oliver.
“I bet we were just talking about you. Is your name Oliver?”

“Yes,” Oliver says.

The security guard smiles and then speaks into
the radio on his shoulder. “Tell Mr. Latson we’ve located his nephew.”

Wait…what?

A woman radios back. “What’s your location?”

“Abbott Oceanarium North. At the stairs.”

She responds. “He’s on his way.”

“Your uncle will be here soon,” the other security
guard tells Oliver. “Can you do me a favor, though, buddy?”

Oliver steps closer to my side.

“The next time you’re anywhere with a crowd,
make sure you stick by your uncle or your parents, okay?  Not all people are as
nice as this lady here.” The security guard looks at me. “Thank you for your
help.”

“Of course,” I say.

While we wait, Oliver starts to look around. He
tugs on my hand. “Those seahorses you like are over there.”

I turn around. “They sure are.”

“Can we go see them?”

I look at the security guards. “Is that okay?”

They agree since we’ll be in their line of
sight. Oliver leads me over to the display and just as we get into a
conversation about which color seahorse is the best, I hear a voice call out “O.”

This is crazy,
I think.

Oliver lets go of my hand and takes off. He
runs toward Latson, who scoops him up and holds him tight.

“I told you never to wander away from me,”
Latson says against the top of his head.

“I know,” I hear Oliver say, “but I was bored
at the river stuff.”

Latson closes his eyes and hugs his nephew. Tension
leaves his body and relief takes its place. As I watch the two of them, my
heart melts. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so sweet.

When Latson opens his eyes, his brow furrows. He
sets Oliver on the ground and crouches in front of him. “You scared me, O. You
have to tell me when you want to see something else. If you run off again we’re
not coming back. Understand?”

Oliver looks at his shoes. “Yes.”

Latson waits for his admonishment to sink in,
then holds his fist out to Oliver. “Hey,” he says.

Oliver looks up. He bumps his uncle’s fist with
his own, and all seems right again.

When Latson stands, he notices me. He does a double
take and smiles. “Who’s your friend?” he asks his nephew.

“That’s Jen. She helped me. I told her I would
take her to see the sharks. She
has
to like them better than everything
else.”

“She does?”

“Yes!”

“The kid is adamant when it comes to his
favorite,” I say.

Latson takes Oliver’s hand and walks over to
where I’m standing. “It sounds like you have a date with my nephew.”

I smile. “I guess I do.”

“How is that possible?”

“He’s passionate about sharks. Besides, who
could say no to that face?”

He chuckles. “I meant, how did he find you?”

I shrug. “Coincidence?”

“She looked nice,” Oliver says. “That’s why I
picked her.”

Latson tips his head and studies me. Then, he confers
with Oliver. “I agree. She looks
very
nice. Not like a kidnapper at
all.”

I roll my eyes.

Latson steps toward me and asks, “Are you here
alone?”

“Yeah. I figured I should see the city. You
know, before I start my new job.”

He gives me half a smile. “You’d better not be
late.”

Oliver pulls on his uncle’s hand. “Can we go
now?”

“Sure.” Latson looks at me. “You ready?”

“Yep. I’m ready to be scared by
Jaws
.”

The two of them lead the way and I follow. As I
walk behind them, I can’t help but notice how similar they look. They have the
same hair color, almost the same style, and they hold themselves in the same
way. Their family genes are strong. An image of the kid’s room I accidentally
found at the party least week flashes in my mind. They obviously spend a lot of
time together.

Latson looks over his shoulder. “Are you
coming?”

“Absolutely.” I catch up and ruffle Oliver’s
hair. “I don’t make a habit of letting handsome men down.”

“Really?” Latson grins. “I’ll keep that in
mind.”

I shoot him an annoyed look. “I was referring
to Oliver.”

He covers his heart with his free hand. “That
hurts.”

Oliver laughs.

We make it to a set of elevator doors and stop
walking. Oliver pushes the down button, and while we wait, Latson takes the opportunity
to lean close to me. “Am I not handsome enough for you?” he whispers.

His breath warms my ear, and I try not to react.
I refuse to swoon over his voice, his body, or his scent … which happens to be
amazing. It’s crisp and woodsy, with a little citrus thrown in. What cologne is
that?

Focus, Jen.

“You know you’re covered in the looks
department,” I admit.

“Then what’s the problem?”

He can’t be serious. “Does the name Heidi ring
a bell?”

“Yes,” Oliver pipes up. “She’s Uncle Gunnar’s
friend.”

Whoops. Apparently I said that a little too
loud.

“Thank you, Oliver,” I say, satisfied. “Uncle
Gunnar
seems to have forgotten.” It dawns on me that I now know Latson’s first name.

More people join us to wait for the elevator,
and Latson moves Oliver closer to us. He leans over again and says, “Why do you
keep bringing up Heidi?”

I glance at him. “Because you’re together.”

“Who told you that?”

“No one. I saw the proof at your party.”

Latson’s confusion turns into a cocky grin. “I’m
not with Heidi.” He steps closer and brushes my arm with his fingertips. “Never
have been, never will be.”

Holy shit. It’s hard to concentrate. I clear my
throat. “Well, still.” I look forward. “I’m your employee now, so … ”

The elevator door opens and we wait for the
riders to file out. When we step inside, Oliver pushes the button for the lower
level. More people enter the small space, and the three of us move over to make
room. By the time the door closes, we’re squashed in the corner. My back ends
up pressed against Latson’s chest while Oliver stands in front of me. I set my
hands on the little boy’s shoulders in an attempt to distract myself from the
feeling of his uncle’s hard muscles against my back.

As the elevator descends, Latson finds my ear
again. “Do you have any more reasons to avoid letting me down?”

His breath against my skin causes heat to slide
down my neck and leave goose bumps in its wake. I don’t want him to notice, so I
turn and peek over my shoulder.

“You’re wearing another plain white tee,” I
sniff. “Obviously you don’t own any other clothes. I can’t be seen with you. Other
than professionally, of course.”

Latson laughs and I feel the vibration through my
shirt. “You’re going to have to do better than that,” he murmurs.

His words sound like a dare.

Two days later, my brother leans over the bar
above me. “Are you feeling any better?”

I finish tapping a keg and stand, holding my
stomach. “Not really,” I say. “What was in that pizza?”

Last night, Jules and Pete decided to forego the
health food and introduce me to the world of Chicago-style deep dish pizza. It
was all they promised it would be: thick, covered in chunky tomato sauce, and
dripping with cheese. I’m not ashamed to say more than one piece went down
without a problem.

“Just your standard stuff,” Pete says. “Are you
sure you don’t want me to take you home?”

I know he would like that, seeing as how this
is my first day as an official employee at Torque. “No.” I shake my head
despite feeling like my gut is digesting itself. “I don’t want to make a bad
impression.”

My brother gets sarcastic. “I know the owner. You
do, too. Latson will understand.”

“Pete.” I’m agitated because no matter what I
do I don’t feel good. “I’ve been lying around all day. Maybe if I move I will
feel better.”

Ever since I woke up this morning I’ve had this
gnawing sensation under my ribs. It started out as a dull ache but got worse
the longer I laid on the couch. Food doesn’t usually bother me, so I’m not sure
what is going on. All I know is that I’d like it to stop.

“Well, tell me if you change your mind,” my
brother says. “Carter can handle the door and the girls can handle the bar if
you need to leave.”

My eyes dart to my coworkers. Mina and Maggie talk
while they set up. When Pete introduced us tonight I got the typical “new girl”
once over. I’ve been in this situation before and I expected it; the last thing
I need to do is leave early. I have to prove that I deserve the job I was
given, even more so since I’m Pete’s sister. Three main bartenders have been
the status quo at Torque since it opened. Now that I’m number four, even for a
brief time, I have to pull my weight. People don’t like to have their hours
threatened, especially when they rely on tips. Also, Pete let me in on some
behind-the-scenes information: both of the girls calling off the other night
didn’t sit well with Latson. I’m sure they think he’s looking to replace one of
them, which makes my presence even more awkward.

I turn my attention back to my brother. “I’ll
be all right. This thing will pass sooner or later.”

Pete looks uncertain. I shoo him away with a
wave of my hand. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?  We open in, like, twenty
minutes.”

“Fine,” he says and heads toward the main doors.
Satisfied, I walk over to the register to count the change in the drawer. Just
as I grab the stack of one dollar bills, a sharp pain flashes across my stomach.
I double over as much as I can without anyone noticing.

Ouuuuuuch,
I mentally groan. What
is
this?  On my first break, I’m calling my mom. She’ll know what to do. I know
I’m an adult, but you never get over the need for motherly advice. Moms know
everything.

“I’ve been thinking.”

My head snaps up. Latson is standing opposite
me wearing half a grin. “Did it hurt?” I ask.

“Funny,” he says. He moves to the other side of
the register, so he’s closer to me. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t have a good
time the other day.”

“Who’s pretending?  Your nephew is adorable. I
had a great time.”

“Good.”

After I got my full tour – and I mean
full
tour – of the shark exhibit, Oliver asked me to have lunch with him and his uncle
at the aquarium cafeteria. While we feasted on chicken fingers and French
fries, Oliver quizzed me on all the shark facts he taught me earlier. Then, we
spent some time in the gift shop where Oliver tried to talk Latson into buying
him a book about whales. Apparently he has all the books about sharks. When
Latson said no, I fake pouted alongside Oliver until his uncle caved. When it
was time to leave, Latson made a big deal about me following them home, which
Oliver thought was hilarious until he learned I really am staying in the same
building. When he found out I was neighbor Pete’s sister, he hugged me. When
that little boy’s arms wrapped around my waist, my heart puddled for the second
time that day. I don’t think anyone has ever been that excited to be near me.

Another weird pain hits my stomach and I try to
ignore it by shutting the register drawer. “So, about your thoughts?”

Latson steps back and takes off his leather
jacket. He holds his arms out to the side. “Your reason for not letting me down
has been negated.”

Huh?  I look at his shirt and it clicks. Instead
of his usual plain white tee, he’s wearing a navy blue one with white lettering.

“
No pants are the best pants
,” I read, then
raise an eyebrow.

“It’s the truth,” he says with a sexy smile.

I wish I didn’t feel so shitty. I can’t banter
with him in this condition. All I can muster is a sarcastic, “Classy.”

“You said nothing about class.” Latson lowers
his arms. “All you said was I couldn’t wear white shirts.”

“No. I said you shouldn’t wear them all of the
time.”

“Stop trying to come up with loopholes.” He
walks up to the bar and sets his hands against the top. “You’re out of reasons.
Admit it.”

I point at the word Torque scrawled across my
shirt. “Still your employee,” I say.

He smirks.

People start to enter through the front doors
and they grab my attention. “Looks like I have a job to do.” I glance over at
Mina and Maggie to see if they’re ready and catch both of them watching Latson
and me. They have confused looks on their faces.

Great. Not only am I their manager’s sister,
it’s obvious I know the boss.

Ugh.

I step to the side so Latson is out of my way. When
I do, a horrible pain shoots across my belly. I clutch the edge of the bar for
support as it crawls under my ribs and burns its way up into my chest. It hurts
so much, I can barely breathe.

“Jen?”

I try to answer but I can’t. All I can do is
concentrate on taking short breaths as my body breaks out in a cold sweat.

“Jen. What’s wrong?”

I have no fucking clue,
but I
think I’m dying.
I try to send the message to Latson telepathically, because
there’s no way I can talk. A wave of nausea washes over me and suddenly the
floor seems like a good place to be. My vision blurs as my knees buckle and I
land on my hip behind the bar.

“Jen!”

I hear the scuffle of feet and feel someone
grab under my arms before my head hits the tile. “Get Pete!”

I think that was Maggie. My eyes close.
God,
I hurt. Make it stop.

The next thing I know, I’m floating. At least
it feels like I’m floating. I don’t have the energy to open my eyes. I’m still
trying to take little breaths, to try and keep my stomach and my chest from
burning. It doesn’t work. Nothing works.

“What happened?” It’s Pete.

“I don’t know. She passed out.” Latson’s voice
is muffled and I realize he’s carrying me. I hear a door. “Felix!  Get my car!”

“Shouldn’t we call 911?” Pete sounds panicked.

“Dorothy is faster,” Latson says.

“You and that damn car. Jen!”  Pete’s voice is
next to my ear. “Can you hear me?”

I nod because I can.

“What’s wrong?  Can you breathe?  Open your
eyes!”

I squint. “Stop yelling,” I croak out. “My
stomach is killing me. It hurts to take a deep breath.”

“Is it the same thing as this morning?”

“Only a thousand times worse.”

Latson holds me tighter, and I clench his shirt
in my fist in response to the pain. Leave it to me to feel like I’m birthing an
alien in his arms. I can’t even enjoy the feeling of being held in them.

Before long I hear the rumble of an engine. Latson
starts to walk and Pete stops him.

“Give her to me,” my brother says. “I’m riding
with you. Are you going to Mercy?”

“Yes,” Latson says before handing me over.

I open my eyes as I’m jostled from one person
to the next. Felix jumps out of a black muscle car and rounds the front,
drawing my attention to the white stripes that run the length of the hood. “Is
she going to be all right?”

“Estare bien,” I mumble against Pete’s chest.
I’ll
be fine.

“Let’s hope so,” my brother mutters.

Latson opens the passenger door and pulls the
seat forward. Pete sets me in the backseat. As he buckles me in he says, “You’re
killing me, Little J. You know that?  You should have stayed home.”

“So I could pass out all alone?  No thanks.” I wince.
Damn pain.

Pete gives me a worried look. He knows I’m
right.

The guys jump into the front seat and as soon
as the doors slam shut, Latson tears away from the curb. “We’ll be there in
twenty minutes, tops,” he says as he maneuvers through traffic.

I try to settle against the soft leather of the
seat beneath me and pull my legs up to the side. Latson steers with one hand as
he pulls his cell from his back pocket. He pushes a button and tells it to “Call
Dad.”

His phone responds. “Calling Dad.”

“Are you sure?” my brother asks. “When’s the
last time you talked to him?”

“Two years ago,” Latson answers.

~~~~

The lighting in the hospital room is dim. I
blink to focus and search the walls for a clock. Hearing the slow tick, I find
it by the television. It’s almost two a.m. I’ve been here for seven hours.

My head rolls against the flat pillow and I
look down. I still have my IV. I silently thank the nurse who injected the morphine
into the tube to kill my pain. After that, I didn’t care how many vials of
blood they had to take. I didn’t care that I had to put on a backless hospital
gown. And I didn’t care when they used the same tube to inject dye into my body
for a CT scan. All that mattered was finding out what was wrong.

I look in the opposite direction and find Pete
asleep in a chair beside my bed. His head is tilted at an odd angle, which
makes his mouth hang open. If I had something to throw, I would totally try to
make a basket. I lean over and tap his knee. “Hey.”

His eyes fly open. “What?” He blinks. “You’re
awake.”

“Yeah. Why are you still here?”

“Like I’d leave you.” He straightens his body
and yawns.

“Pete. I really appreciate it, but you can’t
sleep in that chair. You’re three times its size. Go home. I need you to pick
me up after surgery later.”

He runs his palm over his tired eyes. “Nothing’s
changed, has it?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

I can’t believe I have to have surgery. Stupid
gallbladder. How can such a tiny organ cause so much pain?  Apparently mine is
inflamed and full of stones, one of which is blocking some sort of duct. It
needs to come out. Thankfully the procedure is outpatient, and I won’t have to
stay in the hospital very long.

I smile innocently at Pete. “You’re going to
have to wait on me for the next five days. Instead of sitting here, you should
make yourself useful and go to the store. I’ll need plenty of apple pies and
coffee.”

“Nope.” He leans forward. “You heard Latson’s dad.
You have to watch what you eat, at least for a while.”

I frown. After my problem was diagnosed, I got
a visit from my surgeon. Latson’s father drew a diagram of what was happening, explained
laparoscopic surgery, and told me how long it would take to recover. He was patient
and reassuring. He also looked like an older, gray-haired, more distinguished
version of his son.

“Why is it you listen to him but ignore me?” I
ask Pete. “I told you to leave and get some sleep. Instead you chose to stay
and remind me of my restricted diet.”

“He’s a medical professional,” my brother says.
“You’re just my stubborn sister.”

“Who you love,” I say sarcastically.

“I … ” Pete’s expression morphs from playful to
serious. “I know I don’t say it, but I do.” He hesitates. “You scared me today.
I’d be a mess if something happened to you.”

I’m not sure how to react. This is a side of my
brother I’ve never seen. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Honestly, I scared myself.”
I pull the blanket higher on my waist. “I’ll try not to do it again, if that
makes you feel better.”

Pete smiles. “It does. Thanks.”

It’s awkward being emotional with my brother. Maybe
he is finally growing up. He’s a manager now, and his apartment looks different.
I haven’t seen him play a video game since I’ve been here. He’s a health nut,
and I’ve caught him staring at Jules like he can’t live without her. Not that I
didn’t like the old Pete, but mature Pete is pretty awesome. Even if he is
overprotective.

“Well,” I say, “since I’m doing you the favor
of not dying, could you do me a favor?”