Prodigal Son

Chapter 16

Felicity accepted the cup of coffee from Diggle with murmured thanks. She took a sip; it was sweet, strong, and hot. Exactly what she needed. Even with Oliver's borrowed suit jacket still draped around her shoulders, she couldn't stop shivering.

Diggle settled next to her on the cushioned bench looking out at the outside terrace. Other guests of the gala still milled around, huddling in groups gossiping and not so surreptitiously staring. Only the security personal positioned at a discrete distance dissuading any "comforters" kept her from being mobbed. She felt like an art instillation. All she was missing were the velvet ropes.

"The police should be finished with Oliver soon."

She wished they had let her wait on the executive floor where they interviewed the witnesses most involved. All the guests and staff members had been interviewed as well, though that had been a more informal business and somehow only added to giddy air of the gala as everyone waited their turn. When the police were done with her, she'd been given the choice of going home, waiting in the lobby where dozens of reporters had already gathered or going back to the gala. She wasn't going anywhere without Oliver.

"Good. Do you know where Moira is? I haven't seen her since right after."

"She insisted on handling a few final details with the silent auction."

"I can't believe how many people stayed as if nothing happened. Actually, I can believe it. Who would want to leave when they can watch the drama continue to unfold? The band hasn't stopped playing since. Is it true people just pushed a few tables out to the way and are dancing around the cordoned off area of the dance floor?" Felicity asked.

"That's not important. People needed to stay so the police could speak to everyone."

"That was two hours ago," she grumbled as she took another sip of her coffee.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm fine."

He gave her an exasperated look. "How are you really doing?"

She sighed. "I'm on edge. Exhausted but not tired. Mad. Worried. Rattled. No way I'll be able to sleep tonight." She shook her head. "Poor Oliver."

"Poor Oliver?" John crossed his arms over his chest. "Pretty sure you're the only one she fired directly at. Good work with the plate. The distraction probably saved your and Queen's life."

She warded off another shiver. She didn't like to think about how close they came to not walking away.

"Always be mindful of your surroundings," she said, injecting forced cheerfulness into her voice. "You taught me that."

"Who knew you were paying attention?" he teased. "Seriously though, you did good. You kept your head. You waited for your opportunity. You took it. Now she's in custody and won't be bothering anyone again."

They both turned their head as Thea strode their way, returning with four plates balanced in her hands and arms. Twenty minutes ago, when Tommy had to get back to his club before the person covering for him left, Thea walked away with him, muttering about being right back with something Felicity needed. Apparently that was dessert. She'd returned with a variety of options.

"Here. Pick something. It's medicinal. I read somewhere sugar is good for people recovering from shock."

"I'm fine, Thea."

"Well I'm not. You want the blueberry crumble, the cherry cheesecake bites, chocolate mousse or the carrot cake?" She asked nodding to her different offerings.