His light eyes were sensitive and, today, when he needed them most, he’d left his sunglasses on the kitchen table. The fever and headache had started during the morning editorial meeting. By the time assignments had been agreed upon, he could barely focus. He hadn’t had a migraine in almost a year, but he remembered the symptoms well. Telling his assistant he’d be out of the office for the rest of the day, he grabbed his keys and briefcase and had headed home. Pulling into his driveway, the blond journalist folded himself out of his car, holding onto the door until the dizziness passed. He’d had to pull over to throw up twice on the way home and wanted nothing more than to pass out in a cool dark room. Praying that he had some of his old prescription pills still in his medicine cabinet, he groped his way into the house and down the hall. He hadn’t even bothered to bring his briefcase and cell phone inside.
