Page 33 of Wrecked By You
I presumed Anders was Doctor Magnusson. The fact that Johannes was on first-name terms with the doctor spoke volumes about the difference between his life and mine.
“She’s got bronchitis. He gave her antibiotics, and they’re working well. I’d say she’s ninety percent recovered already, although Doctor Magnusson has been clear that she has to take the full five-day course of medicine.”
“That’s good.”
We sat in silence for a few seconds. I shifted in my seat. Was the conversation over? Could I go now?
“When do you think you’ll be back to work?”
I suppressed a smile. The man really did have a one-track mind. “Um, Wednesday, if that’s okay?”
He pursed his lips. “It’ll have to do.”
Jeez. He’s all heart.
I risked standing for a second time, and on this occasion, he didn’t order me back to my seat. “Right, then, I’ll see you Wednesday.” I made for the door.
“Ella.”
I stopped in my tracks. “Yes?”
“Don’t be late.”
I allowed a smile to break this time. “No, sir.”
As I left his office, I could have sworn I heard him mutter, “Fuck me,” under his breath. But as that made no sense, I brushed it aside and set off for home.
* * *
Anxious to turn up to work early to show good faith with both Johannes and my coworkers who’d had to take up the slack during my enforced absence, I set off for Level Nine a couple of hours before my shift was due to start. Chloe was virtually back to her normal bubbly self, and while she’d pouted a little when I’d told her I had to work, one of Ginny’s famous cookies, a glass of milk, and a promise of cartoons before bedtime soon had her smiling again.
Under normal circumstances, I’d have insisted on staying until she was in bed and asleep, especially as I hated to take advantage of Ginny. But at the same time, I also didn’t want to take advantage of Johannes’s altruism. Who knew how long it would last? Not me.
I still had no clue how I’d pay him back for the doctor’s fees, or even how much they were. Considerable would be my guess, and a knot of anxiety lodged in my stomach at how long it would take me to repay every penny. Plus, that meant I wouldn’t be able to put aside any cash for my escape fund. Every time I felt as if I might be one step ahead, something unforeseen happened to pull me right back into the quagmire. Most of the time, I treaded water, waiting for a riptide to drag me under.
One of these days, I’d catch a break. Maybe.
I lived in hope.
As I steered my car into Level Nine’s parking lot, I cursed. Johannes’s Maserati wasn’t parked in its usual space. Goddammit. I’d assumed he’d be here to let me in and my early attendance would earn me a few brownie points.
I exited the car anyway and tried the staff entrance. Locked. Shit. So much for impressing the boss. I headed back to my car, but as I opened the door to get in, the throaty sound of an engine came from behind me. I turned around as Johannes drove in, parking his car in his reserved space.
Smiling, I headed over, wiping a damp strand of hair off my forehead. As I approached, he glanced out the window and held up a finger to me, a sign for me to wait. And then I realized he was talking to someone on the phone. I went to stand in the shade, running a hand along the back of my neck. Summer had arrived early this year. According to Ginny, it wasn’t usually this hot until July, and it was only the third week of May.
Johannes climbed out of his car and slammed the door, his trademark scowl on full display. Was that for me? Or for whomever he’d been talking to? Or for something completely unrelated? With Johannes, I never knew.
“What are you doing here?” he snapped. “You’re not due in until eight.”
“Yeah, I know. But as I’ve missed so much, I thought I’d get a head start on prep.” I flashed a grin. “Didn’t think it through properly, though. Thank goodness you’re here.”
“Not for long.”
He opened the door and stepped inside. I followed, the air-conditioning a welcome relief from the heat of the sun.
“Oh, why’s that?”
He ignored me, making a beeline for his office. I paused on the threshold as he riffled through the stacks of papers on his desk, muttering curses under his breath.