I fumbled and reached for the remote to the air conditioner and switched it off. It was incredibly hot, but it was making Anthony uncomfortable. Next, I made him lean forward, and I held him so that I could pull off the suit that he was wearing. For some odd reason, he had thought that wearing a suit would somehow make the meeting seem formal. How much more formal could a strategic meeting be? I huffed as I threw the offending thing at the corner of the room.
"Michael," I whispered again. He seemed to hear what I was saying.
"What?" he groaned.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Do I look it?" I suppose that he hadn't lost his touch even when he was ill. I chuckled and mumbled a no.
"Can you open your eyes?" He just groaned again; I took that as a no. "What's wrong?" I whispered.
"My head... hurts," his voice grew raspy.
