Chapter Two: Danny's Day Gets Worse
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Shoving his yellow and black Camaro into park, Danny leaned his head back against the headrest and let out a deep sigh. Driving into work had been more of a challenge than usual as the abnormal weariness Danny was still feeling had made his concentration level almost non-existent. He had lost count of how many times he had gotten honked at that morning, but the three near car-wrecks weren't so easily forgotten. That was coupled with the fact that McCoy knew that he still had hell coming in the form of his boss, Ed Deline. As one of his hands ran itself through his short, brown hair, the tall man closed his eyes tightly.
"Can it get any worse?" he quietly asked himself.
"So, this is how inmates look before they're executed!" a female voice commented, getting Danny to open his eyes immediately. He looked over to see a woman with dark, shoulder-length hair casually leaning up against the driver's side door of his car. Her dark eyes watching his every move with a look of sheer amusement.
"Not now, Sam." Danny begged, recognizing the Montecito's hostess and his ex-girlfriend, who must have had "torture Danny" permanently written on her things to do today list. "I'm really…"
"Screwed?" a grinning Sam finished, "Yep, that's the term I'd use to describe it." Her dark eyes suddenly narrowed in concern. "Are you feeling okay, Danny? You're looking a little pale, even for someone who's about to be torn a new one by Ed."
"Ah, I'm fine." Danny waved off as he got out of his car. "Just haven't been feeling totally like myself this morning."
"Lucky for you that Mary's not here." Sam grinned as the pair walked into the casino, which was just beginning to reach its peak hours. Sam was referring to Danny's best friend since childhood, Mary Connell, who was also the Montecito's Special Events Coordinator. Both knew that she would overreact upon hearing that Danny wasn't feeling 100 percent. "She's off at some conference or something." She looked up at the much taller man as they stopped at one of the many hidden doors that led to the innards of the casino. "Anyway, I've got to be going, but you will call me if you need a ride home or something, right?"
"Sure." Danny agreed, wanting nothing more to get away from the steady stream of flashing lights and noise emanating from the casino floor.
"By the way, play the sick card and Ed just might have sympathy on you." a waving Sam advised as she walked away.
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"Where in the hell have you been?" Ed Deline asked in a quiet, yet demanding voice as Danny pushed open the sliding glass door that separated the older man's private office from the surveillance room below. Slowly walking in, the ex-Marine was surprised to see that he wasn't the standing Deline's only guest that morning. An older woman with straight, blonde hair smiled at him from where she sat in front of Ed's desk. It was Jillian Deline, Ed's wife.
"I slept in." Danny meekly replied.
"Well, I hope it wasn't intentional." Ed remarked, "Because if it was, you picked the wrong day." The gray-haired man folded his still muscular arms across his chest. "Brunson is coming for a little visit."
"Brunson?" a surprised Danny repeated, knowing full well that Ed meant Charles Brunson, the owner of the Montecito. "Why in the hell is he coming here?"
Jillian replied that it was some sort of assessment, but Danny didn't hear exactly what the older woman said. A sudden feeling of nausea washed over him, diverting his attention. McCoy prayed that the contents of his stomach would stay down, but it seemed like it was going to be a losing battle. His eyes quickly scoured the office, looking for a garbage can or something, as he knew that the nearest bathroom was too far away.
"Are you feeling all right, Danny?" a concerned Jillian asked, noticing the younger man's odd behavior.
Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Danny quickly regretted that decision. Unable to stop himself, he threw up right then and there on the floor of Ed's office! While he was busy gagging physically, McCoy mentally cursed his luck. Why did he have to get sick on the one day Ed apparently needed him the most? As he finally finished a few moments later, he could feel a cool, yet gentle hand on his forehead.
"He's pretty warm." Jillian commented, taking her hand off of Danny's forehead.
"I'm fine." Danny assured as Ed's hand replaced that of his wife.
"The hell you are." a calm Ed remarked, removing his hand.
"You need me, Ed." Danny protested, knowing that Ed was thinking about sending him home. He shook his brown-haired head. "If Brunson's doing an inspection, I need to be here."
"No, you need to be at home in bed." Ed shook his head.
"But Ed…" Danny whined.
"Save your energy to fight whatever bug you picked up, kid!" Ed ordered, glaring at Danny. It seemed to silence the younger man. With a much more gentle look, the gray-haired man turned to his wife. "Why don't you take him back to his place?"
"I'd be more than happy to." Jillian replied, rubbing Danny's back. "Come on, Daniel."
"And send a janitor up here on your way out, will ya?" Ed added as Jillian and Danny headed out of his office. "I don't want to have to be seeing and smelling that all day!"
To be continued...