Everyone was busy getting settled back into the house, except for me. Not only did I not want to put my things away, I was so sore that I didn't even want to go up the stairs. Part of me just wanted to crawl up onto that couch in the living room and just pass out. I had slept like shit the night before, and it wasn't cause of the tent or the inflatable mattress, as those were alright. I would have been in pain regardless of where I was sleeping, as that's just how I felt whenever someone like me was in what my rheumatologist would call a flare up. There was nothing I could do but just ride it out, and wait for the pain to subside. I used to knock back pills like they were going out of style, but that was a method and an addiction that I wasn't in the mood to dive back into. So, I just learned to take it and over the years my threshold for pain has significantly increased. It got to the point where I broke my wrist, and if I had done that thirty years ago I would have been wailing as a baby. The today me just sat patiently in the waiting room for three hours to treated. I used to be afraid of needles, and now it doesn't bother me to the point where I got an eight hour tattoo and didn't even flinch the whole time. Yet when I have these flares, they've become more of a nuisance and I have gotten better at waiting them out. While sometimes I can't hide it, to the normal people I just look grumpy rather than in pain. That works and I let it pass so that I can suffer in silence.
Rather than keep standing, which made things more painful after a while... I slowly moved over to that catch I had been eyeing and softly parked my arse there and took a deep breath. I watched quietly as everyone else was running around and doing things while I was content to just relax and not do a damn thing. Finally, the first person who noticed where I was happened to be the wife of the big boss. Mrs. Parsons walked up to me and quickly engaged in conversation.
"Nic," she started as she walked closer, "Are you alright?"
"Not really," I honestly replied, "I feel like total shit, but thanks for asking."
She appeared to be taken back, but attempted to recover from it.
"Are you hurt?" she inquired, which was rather night.
"Always," I replied, "But it's something that I've learned to live with."
I could tell Mrs. Parsons was a tad confused by the situation, as clearly she never spoke to her husband about it. He was likely distracted by the cougar shooting and Jimbo's arrest and it probably slipped his mind.
"Is there anything I can do?" she asked, doing her best to be hospitable. Clearly she was trying, so I felt the need to give her a task at least to give her the feeling that she was contributing to me feeling better, despite it not being possible at the moment.
"If it's not too much trouble," I replied, "I'd love a cup of tea."
"I can do that," Mrs. Parsons said, excited to do anything. "Two milk and sugar?"
"That would be great," I answered, even though it wasn't accurate. I didn't care, just go away.
As Mrs. Parsons bolted off for the kitchen to get my tea, Jimbo came down the stairs and appeared eager to speak to anyone about something.
"Hey!" I called out, surprised to even see the man. "When did you get back?"
"I just got here," Jimbo answered, "Rachel was excited as shit to see me and wouldn't let go for almost five minutes."
"I bet," I replied, eager to know more. "What the hell happened?"
"The bossman sent a lawyer," Jimbo answered, "Dude did some fancy talk and got me the hell out of the cell. To be fair, I bet that cot was a hell of a lot softer than those air mattresses."
"Probably," I said, as I honestly didn't care about that. Despite being out and about, Jimbo appeared to be as nervous as a cat. "What's going on, dude?"
"Something odd is going on," Jimbo answered.
"You don't know the half of it," I said, eager to dish on something Jimbo didn't know. "Did you see that blonde that was on the back deck?"
"Yeah, I did," Jimbo confirmed, "Who the fuck is she?"
"I have no damn clue, but she was here playing around with Josh when we got back," I said, enjoying the chance to gossip. That often helped me get the mind off my flares. "He claims she was a courier delivering an offer, but they looked a little too chummy if you ask me. Something was going on when we walked in."
"Fuck me," Jimbo said, as he didn't know. "Angie must have been pissed."
"She looked annoyed, but seemed to take it well," I admitted, "They're upstairs talking about it now. And the blonde is still on the deck."
"Not anymore," Jimbo corrected me.
"What the hell does that mean?" I asked him, as I was now in the dark about something.
"This lawyer that just drove me back," Jimbo started, "He took that chick aside and said something to her. After that exchange, she got in his car and they just peeled off together."
"What?" I said, as that was clearly confusing me. "If she was here to deliver something for Josh, why the hell did she leave with the lawyer?"
"Tell me about it," Jimbo said, as he was also confused. "That makes no damn sense."
"Not one bit," I said, thinking about it. "What about her car?"
"Parsons is saying it wasn't working," Jimbo added, "He's acting rather weird too. Did you notice that when you guys got her before me?"
"Not really," I admitted, as I couldn't remember anything. "If he was rattled, the dude hid it well."
"You don't become a C.E.O. of shit if you can't look adversity in the face and not flinch," Jimbo said, as he started to pace the room. "I'd hate to sit down a poker table with that man."
"No shit," I said, as his poker face was clearly impeccable.
"So, if she agreed to leave with his lawyer," Jimbo added, "They why was she really here?"
Before either of us could answer that, Mrs. Parsons returned to the room with my cup of tea. She put it down on the table in front of me and we both shut the hell up as she did so.
"There you go," She said with a pleasant smile, "Can I get out anything else?"
"No, thank you," I said, "This will be fine."
As the boss' wife left the room, suddenly we both had the very same thought.
"She's his mistress." Jimbo blurted out the moment she was out of earshot.
"Damn right she is," I concurred, "That would explain the lawyer dragging her out of here asap."
"Do you think Josh knows?" Jimbo asked.
"Of course he does!" I snapped back before taking a sip. "For whatever reason the dude is covering for him."
"Sneaking fucker," Jimbo said, as he realized something else. "I need to speak with Rachel."
Before I could say anything else, Jimbo ran up the stairs to look for his woman. I sat there and softly sipped my tea, wondering what the hell else was going to happen tonight, which was the final night of the retreat. damn, this was going to be good.