DESTINY
Mrs. Donahue came upstairs to look for me. I must have looked a sight, because she took one look at me and demanded to call the doctor.
“No, please, Mrs. Donahue. I’ll be fine. I just had some bad reaction to the pizza we had last night. Or it might have been the beer.”
“Hmm….” She felt my forehead. “No fever. Well, then. What you need is some proper food. No wonder you pick up all sorts of bugs, eating al lot of shite.” She tut-tutted, “Such a shame about Lord Barrington, poor dear. Working himself to death, he is.”
“We visited with him last night. He is recovering.”
“Well, thank the good Lord for that, eh. Well, I’ll not bother ye. Ye rest up, Lass. I will make you some chicken broth, perk ye right up.” Her smile made her round cheeks look like little red apples. She left and I snuggled down under the covers.
My phone dinged and I grabbed it to see who was texting me. Of course, it was James.
‘Hey Sugar, just want to know if you feel better. XXX.’
