As soon as I realized he wasn’t serious, I broke out in a small smile. The cop took out his key to undo the handcuffs. I had an idea... “Sir, can I ask you for a small favor first?” The cop looked at me strangely. Moments later, Elijah held up the mug shot board with some random number next to Rocky and I took the pic. I hit send.
“You are dead meat.”
It took not even a minute for my cell to ring, I pressed the speaker button when I answered the call.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS MY HUSBAND DOING IN JAIL, EDWARDS?!”
I fell to the floor in hysterics as Elijah mimicked me. We were unable to breathe as Nikki continuously cussed at us and threatened Elijah that she would tell Adriana everything. It was contagious. Soon the whole room was laughing, including Rocky.
It would definitely be a night to remember.
…
The next week was mainly spent in meetings and fighting every battle under the sun. Suddenly work had become insane and I was putting in eighteen-hour days if not more. In the past week alone I had flown to Chicago, Boston and Vancouver. I was due next week to speak at a conference in Paris. I was reluctant to leave London again, just that nagging feeling something wasn’t right. On a dreary Friday afternoon, the rain was pouring, covering the skyline. Employees starting filing out of the boardroom after a presentation on curr
ent market trends. Kate sat across me, fidgeting with her phone. Panic and uncertainty was written all over her face, very unlike her. I sat still, then tapped my pen on the desk in an irritated fashion.
“I’m waiting…” I said.
She looked up at me. “I’m sorry, sir, it’s just…nothing.”
“Great, well, nothing means you can get back to your desk and finalize the travel arrangements for Paris.” Hesitating, I waited as she was about to open her mouth, but instead she walked away, closing the door behind her.
It happened again, twice. Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with her? By the fourth time I’d had enough.
“Kate, fucking tell me what the hell is wrong that is making you so unproductive today?”
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Whatever it is you’ve tried to tell me four times in the past hour. Let me guess, you’re handing in your resignation?”
“Oh no! I enjoy my job…somewhat.”
“Okay, then what? I’m not a mind reader and you’re wasting my time.” She shuffled her feet, wringing her palms. With her head bowed she finally spoke up.
“Charlie’s in the hospital.”
“WHAT?!”
“She was admitted a few hours ago. She’s been very ill lately but then she collapsed and had trouble breathing. Eric called me.”
“And no one thought to call me?!” I asked angrily.
“Sir, the history, you know—”
“I’m her fucking husband!”
“Excuse me, sir? Husband? I don’t even know where to begin with—”
“Book the next flight for me.” Panicked, I dialed Nikki’s number. Voicemail. I dialed Adriana. Voicemail. I tried every fucking person in New York. Voicemail. WHAT THE FUCK!
Kate returned fifteen minutes later with my flight details. The plane was leaving in two hours. I hauled ass to the airport with five minutes to spare. It was times like this I needed to invest in a private plane. The plane took off and I sat squished in economy with the generic folk. Fuck first class for being booked out. As I sat next to an overweight lady knitting what looked like a ball of nothing, I closed my eyes forcing myself to sleep, avoiding the anguish overcoming me.
It was just after midnight when I ran through the doors of the hospital. The nurses quietly sat behind the desk. They saw me and immediately said, “No visitors.” I threw some money at them to which they demanded even further that I leave. A doctor walked past and I grabbed him by the coat, begging him for answers, anything.
“So you must be the boyfriend?” he asked, looking at the chart.
“Husband,” I corrected.