"Alex, it's really you!" Maryann called, waving to him from the driver's seat of the car.
Unfortunately, she lost control of the vehicle for a moment, hitting Alex and hurling him farther down the road. He hit the ground and was knocked unconscious.
**
Alex opened his eyes and found himself in a strange room, unaware of how long he had been out. The room was clean and elegant, and several small potted plants sat on the windowsill. A breeze blew from the open window, cooling the space.
Alex rubbed his aching head, trying to remember what had happened. Finally, he recalled rescuing Debbie, the members of the Baltimore Martial Arts Association turning up, and then Maryann hitting him with her car.
"What's going on?" Alex murmured to himself.
"Alex, are you awake?" Maryann called as she pushed the door open.
Alex struggled to sit up as Maryann walked into the room carrying a bowl of soup.
"I'm really sorry about last night," she said. "I was so excited to see you that I forgot to brake. I had you examined by a doctor, of course, and he said it was okay for me to care for you here. You're going to be fine."
She placed the bowl on the bedside table and sat down beside Alex, placing her hands on his shoulders and pushing him back. "Lay back down. You have a head trauma. The doctor said you're not well and you need to rest."
Alex sighed and leaned back in a semi-reclining position.
"I cooked you a bowl of chicken noodle soup," Maryann said brightly. "It'll make you feel better." She scooped a spoonful of soup from the bowl and held it to Alex's mouth. "Come on, have some."
"No, that's okay," he said. "I can do it myself." Her insistence on spoon-feeding him had caught him off guard. It was a level of intimacy he wasn't comfortable with.
"You're weak," she said, frowning at him. "You need to eat, so why are you arguing?"
Alex reluctantly nodded his consent and opened his mouth, swallowing the soup.
"Where am I?" he asked.
"A small vacation villa," she said, smiling at him. "After I hit you last night, I drove us here."
"Thank you," Alex replied.
"Don't thank me," she said, shrugging. "It's the least I could do."
Alex finished the soup, and Maryann set aside the empty bowl.
"Now you must rest," she said. "I'll call the doctor and tell him you're awake."
"There's no need," Alex said, getting out of the bed. "I know my body, and I'm fine. I'm ready to go back."
"So soon? Are you sure that's a good idea?" Maryann asked, but she realized Alex was determined to go and that nothing she said would convince him to stay. "Alex, you must give me your contact info so I can pass it along to the doctor."
Alex wasn't interested in hearing from the doctor, but he also didn't want to seem ungrateful, so he left his number with her.
Maryann offered to drive Alex back to the farm in her car, and he accepted.
On the way there, Maryann's cell phone rang.
The panic-stricken voice of her office manager came through the phone. "Miss Robinson, there's a problem with the wine again. Dozens of customers reacted badly after drinking it. It's the same issue as before. Now people are outside the office building, shouting for the CEO. They're starting to pound on the windows. Should we call the cops? Do you think that if we pay them, it'll shut them up?"
"How could this happen again?" Maryann exclaimed, shaking her head. "Those wines have all been tested, and there were no side effects! So, why is this happening now?"
"We will figure out the issue with the wine, but first we need to deal with the angry customers," said the office manager.
Maryann replied, "Keep the customers calm until I can get there. I'm on my way now. If this isn't fixed immediately, the company will be shut down."
"Yes," the manager said. "I understand."
After hanging up the phone, Maryann looked at Alex and said, "I'm sorry. I don't think I can give you a ride all the way to the farm. This is really important, and I need to take care of it."
"No problem," Alex replied. "I'll take a taxi back."
"But wait, you know about medicine!" Maryann said excitedly. "You can come with me and look at my customers. Maybe you can determine why they're reacting badly to the wine." She sighed. "This is the second time we've had an issue with customers getting sick after drinking the wine, and I don't know what the problem is."
She described the problem to him, hoping he could help. Last month, her wine company launched a new collection of organic wine. It was of excellent quality, made from the highest-end ingredients, but sold at an affordable price, and it had quickly become a fan favorite among the public.
About a week ago, a few customers had begun complaining of redness and itching after drinking the wine. The company had assumed a handful of people were having an allergic reaction to one of the ingredients, but then they had received dozens of calls reporting issues with skin irritation, turning a minor problem into a full-on dilemma.
The company had tweaked the recipe in response to the complaints and had considered the dilemma dealt with. But now, the nightmare was repeating itself.
Alex wasn't interested in dealing with Maryann's problems. Debbie was still in the hospital, and he really wanted to be with her. "I have to go," he said. "I have a lot of things to do."
"Won't you give me a hand?" she pleaded with tears in her eyes. "I really need your help, and I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent. We'll only stay for ten minutes. It won't cause you any dely."
Alex frowned, thinking of Debbie in the hospital and impatient to find out how she was doing and if he could do anything to help. He was reluctant to spend more time away from her, but he knew she was going to be okay, and she had Rufus with her, so he simply nodded his consent.
The sports car arrived at a seven-story building built in the eighties, with a "Robinson Winery" sign above the door. No other members of the Robinson family were present, except for Maryann.
Fifty people were gathered around the front of the office building on what would typically have been a quiet street. Protesters were blocking the entrance to the building, holding banners and carrying signs, yelling at anyone who would listen.