“You don’t sound sure.”
“No,” Joan said, forcing a smile onto her lips. “I’m quite sure. I think it’s a fascinating game, and what’s more, I think I’m going to be very good at it.”
Harry laughed. “Then I very much look forward to being your partner.”
“I still have four weeks of classes before I’m ready for that.”
“I’ll be here,” he said.
Joan felt a tingle of excitement at Harry’s pronouncement. It meant he was planning to stick around, that he felt the same way about her that she felt about him.
That feeling was quickly overpowered by the sensation that something foreign had invaded her body and was squeezing her to death from the inside out. “Where should we go for dinner?” she asked, talking over the pain.
“I was thinking Legal Sea Foods. How does that sound to you?”
Another sharp stab twisted through Joan’s groin.
“Or, if you don’t feel like seafood,” Harry said, misinterpreting the pained expression on her face, “we could do Asian. Or Italian. Or more traditional American. Whatever you prefer. Are you all right?”
“No,” Joan said, clutching her stomach and trying not to double over. “I think I need to go to the hospital.”
“My God. What’s happening?”
“I don’t know. Something’s very wrong.”
“Okay,” Harry said calmly, surrounding her with one arm while signaling the valet to bring his car around. “I’ll call your daughter, tell her to meet us there.”
Joan nodded. While the last thing she wanted to do was worry her daughter unnecessarily—again—she was in too much pain to argue. It felt as if every organ in her body was on fire.
It crossed her mind that she might be dying.
Now? she thought. Just when she was starting to feel more alive than she had in years? How fair was that?
“Hang in there,” Harry said as he guided her into the front seat of his Audi and secured her seatbelt around her. “You’re going to be all right.”
She wanted to tell him not to worry. But the words wouldn’t come. “You promise?” she said instead.
“I promise,” he told her.