Contagion by Robin Cook

“I can’t remember,” Jack said. “Hold on. I’ll be right back.”

Jack walked over to Warren and asked him if he’d come to dinner with them and bring his “shortie.”

“That is, if you have one,” Jack added.

“Of course I have one,” Warren said. He stared at Jack for a beat, then looked over at Laurie. “Was it her idea?”

“Yeah,” Jack admitted. “But I think it’s a good one. The reason I never asked in the past is because I never thought you’d come.”

“Where?”

“A restaurant called Elios on the East Side,” Jack said. “At nine. It’s my treat.”

“Cool,” Warren said. “How you getting over there?”

“I suppose we’ll take a taxi from my place,” Jack said.

“No need,” Warren said. “My ride’s handy. I’ll pick you up at quarter of nine.”

“See you then,” Jack said. He turned and started back toward Laurie.

“This doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed that you didn’t pass me the ball on that last run,” Warren called out.

Jack smiled and waved over his shoulder. When he got back to Laurie he told her that Warren was coming. “Wonderful,” Laurie said.

“I agree,” Jack said. “I’ll be dining with two of the four people who saved my life.”

“Where are the other two?” Laurie asked.

“Unfortunately, Slam is no longer with us,” Jack said regretfully. “That’s a story I have yet to tell you. Spit is the fellow over on the sidelines in the bright red sweatshirt.”

“Why not ask him to dinner too,” Laurie suggested.

“Another night,” Jack said. “I’d rather this not be a party. I’m looking forward to the conversation. You learned more about Warren in two minutes than I’ve learned in months.”

“I’ll never understand what you men talk about,” Laurie said.

“Listen, I’ve got to shower and dress,” Jack said. “Do you mind coming up to my place?”

“Not at all,” Laurie said. “I’m kind of curious, the way you’ve described it.”

“It’s not pretty,” Jack warned.

“Lead on!” Laurie commanded.

Jack was pleased there were no homeless people asleep in the hall of his tenement, but to make up for that blessing the endless argument on the second floor was as loud as ever. Nevertheless, Laurie didn’t seem to mind and had no comment until they were safely inside Jack’s apartment.

There she glanced around and said it looked warm and comfortable, like an oasis.

“It’ll only take me a few minutes to get ready,” Jack said. “Can I offer you something? Actually I don’t have much. How about a beer?”

Laurie declined and told Jack to go ahead and shower. He tried to give her something to read, but she declined that as well.

“I don’t have a TV,” Jack said apologetically.

“I noticed,” Laurie said.

“In this building a TV is too much of a temptation,” Jack said. “It would walk out of here too fast.”

“Talking about TV,” Laurie said, “have you seen those National Health commercials everyone is talking about, the ‘no wait’ ones?”

“No, I haven’t,” Jack said.

“You should,” Laurie said. “They’re amazingly effective. One of them has become an overnight classic. It’s the one with the tag line ‘We wait for you, you don’t wait for us.’ It’s very clever. If you can believe it, it’s even caused National Health’s stock to go up.”

“Could we talk about something else?” Jack said.

“Of course,” Laurie said. She cocked her head to the side. “What’s the matter? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, it’s not you, it’s me,” Jack said. “Sometimes I’m overly sensitive. Medical advertising has always been a pet peeve of mine, and lately I feel even more strongly about it. But don’t worry; I’ll explain it later.”

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