Lola ran a lingerie design boutique firm in Italy; not unlike her son, she was a workaholic, and nothing retained her attention in NYC. Her flight back home was scheduled at nine o'clock on the very same evening. Cici had opted for heading to D.C. to see her granddaughter, and Lola wasn't one to travel alone if she could help it.

"You won't let your mama cross the ocean all by herself, will you?" she pouted. "You said it yourself, you're done here."

Professionally, he was. But leaving NYC quite so fast didn't suit him at all.

"I… Mom, I'm not even headed to Italy; I have to be in London next Monday."

"And you can stay with me until then, no? Please."

He groaned, wishing he'd learned sometime over the last three decades to resist the woman.

"All right. I just have something to sort out first." 

It was close to six, so he tried to call Hester, twice, but was sent to voicemail both times. She was probably working late. Cursing, Ed sent her a message, and headed upstairs to pack his things. He knew better than to arrive late at JFK. Even with a first-class ticket, security was always a nightmare in that airport.

He checked his phone periodically, and his frown deepened as he failed to get an answer. It was so unlike Hester. Maybe she had a conference call to Asia or something? She hadn't mentioned anything like that. 

"Passengers of flight 5896, we have opened the gate. We are now boarding first-class passengers."

That was them. Shit.

Edmund advanced toward the short line heading to the jetway.

"Why the long face, Eddy bear? Is it a deal going sour?"

He did his best to clear his expression, attempting a smile.

Unfortunately, the woman who'd given birth to him knew him too well to fall for it. "Oh dear. That bad. What's going on, Edmund? You're worrying me."

"It's nothing, there's just…"

If he mentioned Hester right now, he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Lola would never let it go. Ever. She'd dig until she knew all the details and she would, for the rest of his days, ask about the mystery woman who’d managed to make him tick.

A smiling flight attendant greeted him and requested his ticket and passport. Blinking at the documents in his hand, Edmund stilled.

He found that he didn't actually give a damn about his mother's nosiness. That wasn't what mattered right now.

"Look, Mama, I can't do this. I…I have to go. I can't leave without saying anything, it's just not right."

The flight attendant blinked. His mother's jaw dropped. Ed, who seemed to just realize the meaning of the words that had crossed his lips, put his passport back in his pocket.

"Yeah. I…I have to go back to town." He kissed his mother's forehead. "Call when you land?"

Lola snorted. "Oh, I certainly will. And I want her name, her picture, and all the dirt."

She wrapped her arms around her son's middle and squeezed him tight. "I'm so proud of you, Eddy." 

He laughed. "For ditching you?" 

"For finding a woman who matters more than your mama. You're growing up."

Was he now? If Lola knew he'd only met said woman a few days ago, she might think differently. It didn't matter. He knew he'd done the right thing. Right now, his place was in New York City.

She'd gotten out of the office by six, and the last thing she remembered was one blinding headlight, pain on her right side as she hit the ground, then blackness.

Hester woke up in a white room that felt cold and smelled of detergent.

"Ouch," she said, blinking. Her head felt like someone had hit her with a baseball bat, like Noemi had in seventh grade.

The rest of her body was pretty sour, but nothing compared to her head.

"And she wakes!" said Chris's voice. 

She heard it from her right side, but couldn't see him, because she'd instinctively closed her eyes again. The light hurt less that way.

"What happened?" she asked. "I didn't see a thing."

"Bike messenger. We're suing. The hospital called the office; they couldn't find an emergency contact so they called work."

That would be because she didn't have anyone listed.

"How long have I been out?"

"About an hour or so. Do you want some water?"

She nodded, and winced. Bad idea.

"There you go. Right in front of you."

Eyes still closed, she tentatively reached and found a straw before her lips. She took a couple of sips.

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome. Bear with me, I just need to press that button—the doctor said I should call a nurse when you wake up."

A few minutes later, a doctor forced her to open her eyes and look at a light. She winced through it, and wasn't very surprised when he told her she had a mild concussion.

"You need some rest, and we'll keep you here for observation through the night, all right?"

She wasn't going to argue. All she wanted was to go back to sleep.

Hester tried to eat a little so she could take the painkillers the doctor had prescribed. She found that Jell-O wasn't too much of an effort.

After eating the dessert, she was given the pain meds, and fell right back to sleep.

It was daylight when she opened her eyes again. Her head wasn't threatening to explode, but the rest of her body felt worse, if possible. Wincing, she sat up in the bed, and her eyes widened.

Edmund was lying in a chair against the wall, right in front of her. What was he doing here? She was about to ask, but she had another priority for now.

"Bathroom," she shrieked, getting to her feet and staggering toward the door to his left. It looked like a bathroom. Double ouch. Now that she was on her feet, she could fully assess the damage. She basically needed to be wrapped in a five-foot-six band-aid.

"Easy does it. Here, lean on me."

Ed half-carried her to the toilet, before getting out and closing the door to give her some privacy, saying, "I'll call the nurse."

Good. She wanted to see the wonderful nurse and her delicious painkillers again.

She peed for a full two minutes, before limping back into the room. Ed helped her back on the bed.

"What are you doing here? How did you know I was…" 

"I couldn't get hold of you through the night, and at the risk of seeming a little crazy around the edges, I ended up calling the office. Your assistant told me he couldn't disclose your location, and it sounded pretty bad, so I called Desmond. He was in D.C., but he's flying back up to take care of things at the office while you recover." 

Shit. Shit. Shit. For emphasis, she said it out loud, "Shit! Damn messenger."

She was supposed to take care of the company by herself for a year. That asshole might have cost her the promotion to her dream job.

"I concur."

"Was Des very angry?" she asked.

Edmund frowned. "Angry? At the messenger? Yes. So are Callum and Mav. They popped by earlier. Mav says his wife will bring you a change of clothes and some toiletries."

She listened to all of that, visibly surprised. 

"I…I really wanted that job."

"For heaven's sake, Hester, you won't lose a damn job because someone knocked you over. They care about you, Hester. All of them." Then he corrected himself, "All of us." 

Oh. 

She found her nails absolutely fascinating and there obviously was someone chopping onions in the vicinity right now, because her eyes were watery. 

Thankfully, the nurse arrived shortly to give her breakfast and meds. Then the doctor walked in and Edmund excused himself.

"Thanks for coming," she called.

He laughed. "You can't get rid of me that easily. I'm finding some coffee, and I'll be right back here."