S
ara felt a headache coming on as the day came to a close. Her forehead started to crinkle as 5:00 came around. Daniel noticed her change in expression and asked her about it.
"Sara, is everything alright?"
"Yes, I am just getting a headache and I am tired."
He opened a desk drawer and offered her two Ibuprofens. She gratefully took them and headed for home.
"I will be in at 5:00 a.m. tomorrow, Sara. Your start time is 8:00 a.m. We can adjust it however you like. If you are an early riser you can come in early and leave earlier. It's up to you. But for tomorrow, let's just say 8:00 a.m."
"Yes, Sir. See you tomorrow."
Sara woke up during the night with an even worse headache and vomited. She had a fever of 102.5Β° and felt horrible. She called the call in line at Jane's desk.
"Jane, I have a fever of 102.5Β° and have been up vomiting since 2:00 a.m. I will not be able to come in today."
When Jane got the call at 7:00 a.m., she walked straight down to Daniel's office to tell him.
"What did you do to her, Daniel?"
"Nothing. Why?"
"She called in sick today and claims to have a fever of 102.5"
"She was getting a headache before she left. I gave her two Ibuprofens. It must have been starting last night. I haven't done anything to her. I actually like this one."
Relief flooded Jane like a tidal wave. "Thank GOD" she thought and headed back to her office. She wasn't in the mood to sit and fraternize with him today. It was Friday and she wanted to make the best of it and not let him ruin her good mood.
When she left his office, Daniel sat thinking.
Shit. Had he scared her away or was she really sick? There was only one way to find out. He would bring her some chicken soup for lunch from Noodles and Company. And by God she better be where she says she is. At home, in bed, sick.
Sara had left her laptop at work the night before and Daniel opened it and read the current book she was working on. She didn't even have it passworded. What was wrong with her? She was too trusting. He had stayed until midnight reading. She was a brilliant writer. She wrote complex criminal mystery books. It kept his interest for almost six hours. He wanted to read more but needed sleep and went home. He knew he was breaching her privacy but he was fascinated with how her mind worked.
This
is why she did not fit into the workforce. She was creative which required flexibility and the workforce was streamlined. He found this information to be useful in understanding his new assistant. She would not have a hard time finding a publisher when the time came.
Sara was awakened by something. She wasn't sure what. There it was again...someone was knocking on her door. Nobody
ever
knocked.
What the hell. I don't want to see anyone.
She dragged herself to her feet, grabbed her robe and went to the door.
"Who is it?" she said just above a whisper.
"Sara, it's Daniel." he said softly.
She paused, mortified. Did he think she was lying? She did not want him here. She was afraid, however,
not
to open the door. She unlocked the bolt and opened the door. He stood there holding his messenger bag for his laptop and a bag of lunch of some sort.
"I brought you some chicken soup. And your laptop."
She stood back and let him in.
"Daniel, I can't eat right now. Can you please put it in the refrigerator." She asked just above a whisper.
He strode out to the kitchen and complied. She looked like she was ready to collapse. He hurried back to her and helped her back to bed. Her apartment was gorgeous. He was shocked. It contained beautiful furnishings and was lavishly decorated. It was three bedrooms by the look of it, a living room and a family room, library, two bathrooms and a gourmet kitchen and a beautiful balcony.
How is she affording this? Clearly, she had good taste. But I am not paying her nearly enough to live like this.
"Please, Daniel. I am in no condition for company."
"When was the last time you took iBuprofen?" he asked.