The Immortal by Angela Elwell Hunt

Author:Angela Elwell Hunt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: HarperCollins Christian Publishing
Published: 2013-02-06T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY

I FRETTED ABOUT ASHER ALL NIGHT, TOSSING AND TURNING UNTIL I wore myself out with worry. Finally, at six, I picked up the phone and dialed New York. I wasn’t about to go to Brussels with Asher until I had talked to Kurt.

“Kurt,” I switched the phone from one hand to the other, as if trying a new approach would help him understand that this wasn’t a prank call, “you’ve got to help me. I’m sorry for the late hour, but I need your advice. I think I might be in serious trouble with the employee I told you about.”

Kurt yawned noisily. I closed my eyes, wishing he could see how desperate I was. I held my breath and tried to be patient—after all, it was midnight in New York and I had awakened Kurt from a sound sleep.

“I don’t need this,” I whispered, dismayed to hear the sound of tears in my voice. “Not coming so soon after Rory’s death. In a few hours we’re supposed to go to Brussels and read some people for Justus. I’m nervous enough about that; I don’t want to worry about traveling with a psychotic.”

“Is this the guy who thinks he’s the Antichrist?”

“He doesn’t think he’s the Antichrist. He thinks our boss is. Come on, Kurt, wake up. I need help here.”

“I’m awake.” Kurt cleared his throat. “And I was sorry to hear about Rory. Terrible break.”

I swallowed hard. “I know. But I can’t talk about him right now. I’m trying to focus on one disaster at a time.”

“OK, tell me about this employee.” Kurt’s voice was even now, and deepening into his professional tone. “Does he function well within his work environment? What’s his official role?”

I closed my eyes in relief. “He’s an interpreter/translator, and yes, he’s fine in the office, though I’ve had reservations about him from the beginning. But he never spins these bizarre stories unless we’re alone.”

Kurt fell silent for a moment, and I thought I could hear the sound of drumming fingernails on a bedstand. “Have you considered the possibility that this man might be infatuated with you? Perhaps these incredible tales are nothing but a ploy to get your attention.”

I thought a moment. “I’ve wondered about that, but I don’t get any sense of infatuation from him. I know all the courtship signals, Kurt, even the Italian versions, and this guy uses none of them.” I felt a wry smile cross my face. “He’s probably the only man in Rome who doesn’t flirt with every woman under fifty.”

Kurt made a grunting noise, then I heard the sound of rustling paper, as if he were searching for something. “You’re gonna owe me for this, Claude. Like dinner at Chanterelle when you get back.”

“I’ll pay. Just help me out on this.”

“Do you think he sincerely believes these bizarre stories?”

“I don’t see any of the usual signs of deception. He could always be a chronic liar, but I think someone in Publications would have noticed before this.” Sitting on the bed, I bent my knees, then propped my forehead on my hand.

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