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“How are you feeling?” Rowan asked when he picked her up from her last physical therapy appointment. He helped her with her seatbelt. It had become a habit after twelve weeks.
“Better,” she said. She lifted her shoulder and flexed her muscle for him. She winced a little bit, but she had made great strides. “97 percent ... maybe 98.”
“Think that will be enough?”
“The therapist says it’ll only improve.” She shrugged. It was something she hadn’t been able to do twelve weeks before.
“Do you need to go by the apartment before we go to work?”
“I think I’m good,” she smiled. “I could use some lunch.”
“We have time to grab something,” he said. “What sounds good?”
“Food,” she grinned.
Rowan put the car in gear. “My favorite.”
* * *
They had lunch at a beach-front deli before heading back up to the studio. The team was assembling, and Jean-René met them in the lobby at the elevator. “Problem,” he said. He knitted his brows together as the elevator doors closed.
“What sort of problem?”
“Insurance problem,” he said. “The execs came down this morning and said the insurance company dropped our coverage.”
“Because of what happened in Washington?” Lauren asked.
“Or Peru?” Rowan added.
“Both. Partially,” Jean-René said, as the elevator doors opened on the sixth floor. “Something about a problem at the lab.”
Rowan blanched. “The lab? What?” Lauren gasped. He moved past his fiancée on the pretense of getting coffee. He signaled Jean-René to drop it.
“I know, right? So anyway, they dropped our insurance and we can’t go anywhere until we get it renewed.” Jean-René swallowed hard.
“It’s not likely you’ll find anyone who’ll insure a high-risk expedition,” Jacob came in behind them, closing the door as he did. “Your e-mod is a 2.75. I’ve never seen one that high.”
“E-mod?” Rowan puzzled.
“Experience modifier,” Lauren said.
“Fine. Everyone, let’s work this out.” Ordinarily Rowan might have flown off the handle, but this was not the time. If they couldn’t get insurance, that might be just the thing to convince Lauren to abandon this folly and move on.
Without the insurance company’s backing, Jacob wouldn’t release funds to support their efforts, and without the financial backing of the Network, the team wasn’t going anywhere.
“How are we supposed to produce a television show if we can’t go out on location?” Jean-René grumped.
“Let’s go start making phone calls,” Lauren said. “I’ll get State Farm or GEICO to insure us if I have too.”
* * *
It wasn’t that easy. The word of Lauren’s abduction hadn’t been any secret. Rowan tried going through channels, over people’s heads, but at the end of the day, he hadn’t gotten anywhere. He finally hung up the phone and walked out onto the balcony, leaning on the rail. He ran a weary hand over his face, but he wanted to scream. He was relieved and frustrated at the same time. He didn’t want to go back. He also knew if he didn’t make a fair attempt at securing coverage, Lauren would blame him for not trying.
“No luck, huh?” Lauren asked. She held a basket of laundry. He carried it into the bedroom for her.
“No.”
“We’ll figure something out.” She took a small towel to fold.
“I’m going for a run.”
“Want company?”
“I don’t think I’d be very good company right now,” he said, reaching into the basket for his running shorts. “I need to clear my head.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” She put a tentative hand on his shoulder.
He hesitated. “Be naked when I get home?”
“Not until after you’ve had a shower.” She raised her brows, but leaned in to kiss him.
He drew back, grinning. “Maybe I’ll just have you now, before I’m all sweaty,”
He tossed the shorts aside and pushed her back gently. He climbed on top of her, brushing her bangs off her face, letting his thumb trace the edge of her strong jaw.
She snaked an arm around him and drew him to her, kissing him again. “That’s a better idea.”
* * *
He awoke late the next morning, to the smell of coffee and pancakes. He found Lauren at the table on the phone. She got up as she continued her conversation. She fixed him a plate; poured him a cup of coffee, all with the phone in the crook of her neck. She sat it in front of him as he inspected the feast.
“So, we’ll have the certificate of coverage how soon?” she asked. She couldn’t help but notice the puzzled look that crossed his face. “Of course. I understand. Can you fax that to my attention? That’d be great.” She sat down and picked up her coffee cup. “I appreciate your help, Greg. Thank you.” She hung up the phone and glanced up at Rowan. “We’ll have our certificate of coverage Monday.”
“What? Who? How?” He cut off each word, dumbfounded. He’d made thirty calls at least, and she’d gotten it done in one day — one phone call?
“I had to insure myself when I got my research grant from the University,” she said. “I know people.”
“But ...”
“Just let me handle the insurance part. I need you to handle the travel arrangements.”
“If anything happens to you I just ... I couldn’t go on. We have to be especially careful on this trip. I won’t lose you again.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me, Rowan,” she said. “I made a couple other phone calls too. I called that FBI agent. I found his business card in your backpack while I was doing laundry. He tried to talk me out of it too, but he said if I was determined to come, the FBI would lead the team.”
“I still think we should leave it to them, Lauren,” Rowan said.
“They’ve had three, almost four months to do something. The trail has gone cold. We are the experts here. We know our quarry better than they do. We can let them worry about the charlatans.”