Page 32 of Trials of a One Night Stand
That’s why I decided to stay in the conference room and rest while everyone else filed out. I haven’t closed my eyes, napping would be frowned upon by the firm—but I’ve allowed myself two yawns and a stretch. An extraordinarily long stretch.
The conference door opens, and people return, carrying coffee cups. Much too soon for my liking, but I’m here to do my job so I can’t complain. The stenographer, however, has a paper plate. The scent of—tuna fish, perhaps—lingers in the air. I haven’t had much of an appetite lately, but my stomach churns and my mouth waters.
Oh my God.
I’m going to be sick.
I jump to my feet and bolt to the doorway, covering my mouth. In the hallway, I have no idea which way to go, but I see a trash can. That’ll have to do.
I throw up whatever’s in my stomach. The smell makes me want to retch more, but I keep bending over, afraid I might vomit again.
It takes every ounce of willpower to stand straight, but I do it and feel like I might fall over.
“Jayne?” Nathaniel asks in such a caring voice, placing his hand on my shoulder and making me want to sink against him. Something I can’t do right now—or anytime.
“I need to find a restroom.” My voice is gruff. I need mouthwash and a toothbrush. Hell, I need a new life. “Food poisoning.”
“Max,” Nathaniel calls out. “Put that MD degree of yours to use.”
“I’m Max Goodall,” a handsome man with glasses and a British accent says.
“Dr. Max Goodall.” Nathaniel stands so close to me his warm breath touches my neck, sending chills along my arms. “He has both a PhD and an MD. You’ll be in good hands.”
“I’m next to be deposed,” Max adds. “We can reschedule that for when you feel better.”
No. No. No. Jason won’t like that. Lucas will throw a fit.
“I’ll be fine.” Even though all I want to do is crawl into a corner and sleep for the next decade, I must be professional. “Give me a few minutes, then we can continue.”
“Jayne—”
“As I said, Mr. Lowe…” I emphasize his last name. “I just need to find the nearest restroom. Please.”
Nathaniel’s jaw juts forward. Veins show on his forehead. This must be his I’m pissed expression, though he didn’t look this upset at the courthouse in Portland, so I wonder what’s going on inside his head. He must want to get the depositions finished like I do.
“Don’t mind our boss. He just doesn’t want another lawsuit on his hands.” Max points to his left. “I’ll show you the way. Let me know if you feel lightheaded.”
I walk slowly, unsure of my steps and hating this feeling of uncertainty. I’m rarely sick, despite my long hours and lack of sleep thanks to a healthy diet, daily vitamin D3 and K2 supplements. “I’m sure it’s something I ate.”
“Did you eat out recently?”
I’ve been so busy I have to think for a minute. “No, but I brought leftovers to microwave yesterday.”
Max nods, though I’m not sure why. “That would do it.”
I touch my face, thinking I might be sick again, but all I feel is my face burning with embarrassment.
“Don’t worry if you need to throw up more,” he says in that pleasing accent of his. “Sophie, my wife, has a friend who’s pregnant right now. More than once the morning sickness hit when she was over at our house. Sophie couldn’t deal with it, so I did. I have a very strong stomach.”
“A good bedside manner too.”
“Thank you.” He half laughs. “We’ll see if that helps me if Sophie gets pregnant and has morning sickness. I already know she’ll hate being so tired. She’s always on the go.”
Vomiting and exhaustion equal pregnancy. I should know that from when my high school best friend, Steffi, got…
Oh my God. I might have passed the bar on my first attempt, but how could I be so oblivious?
What Max said hits me full force. I stop, unsure whether I’ll remain standing or pass out.
