People called him many things.
Businessman.
Fixer.
Donor.
Criminal.
Boss.
He rarely corrected anyone.
The nurse knew none of that.
She opened her eyes and saw only a hard face above her.
Dark hair.
Gray eyes.
A scar near one eyebrow.
He looked dangerous.
He also looked worried.
“I’m fine.”
Her voice barely existed.
“No.”
He adjusted his grip.
“You are not.”
The nurse tried pulling her arm away.
Her wet sleeve caught against his hand and slid toward her elbow.
The man stopped.
So did the driver standing behind him beneath a black umbrella.
Bruises circled the nurse’s wrist.
Yellow at the edges.
Purple nearer the center.
One higher on the forearm.
Another shaped like the pressure of a thumb.
Not fresh enough to be from that evening.
Not old enough to ignore.
The boss became completely still.
His driver stared.
“Boss.”
The nurse noticed both men looking at her arm.
She yanked the sleeve down.
“It’s nothing.”
The boss’s eyes lifted to hers.
“Who did that?”
“I said it’s nothing.”
“That was not my question.”
The nurse tried sitting upright.
The world tilted.
His hand immediately steadied her shoulder.
“Don’t.”
“I have to go home.”
“You are going to a hospital.”
“No.”
The word came stronger this time.
“I work in healthcare. I know what fainting looks like.”
“Good.”
His expression did not change.
“Then you understand why somebody should check you.”
The ambulance siren became audible in the distance.
The nurse looked embarrassed.
“You didn’t have to call them.”
“I did not call them.”
He looked at the valet.
“He did.”
The valet suddenly became fascinated by the pavement.
Despite herself, the nurse almost smiled.
Then dizziness returned.
The boss lowered his voice.
“Stay awake.”
She looked at him.
Something in those gray eyes had changed after he saw the bruises.
The concern remained.
But underneath it was something colder.
Recognition.
The ambulance arrived.
Paramedics transferred her to a stretcher.
The boss answered questions she was too disoriented to answer herself.
“How long was she unconscious?”
“Less than a minute.”
“Did she strike her head?”
“No.”
“Any seizure activity?”
“No.”
“Do you know her?”
The boss paused.
“No.”
The paramedic glanced at him.
Then at the nurse.
“Family?”
“No.”
The nurse looked toward him from the stretcher.
For some reason, that answer disappointed her.
She did not understand why.
The ambulance doors closed.
The boss remained beneath the hotel awning.
His driver approached.
“The senator has called twice.”
The boss continued staring at the departing ambulance.
“Cancel dinner.”
The driver hesitated.
“He waited three months for tonight.”
“Then he has experience waiting.”
The driver said nothing.
Rain ran into the street.
The boss looked toward the place where the nurse had collapsed.
His right hand was clenched.
The driver noticed.
In eleven years, he had seen his employer receive threats with less visible emotion.
“Do you know her?”
“No.”
“Then what is this?”
The boss turned.