Assistant

Mindi’s assistant kept her cell phone charged, datebook up to date, and sales figures ready on the laptop for last-minute client meetings.
She even had Mindi’s special tea blend within reach, not that Mindi was reaching for it.
The latest surgery didn’t go as well as the others, and Mindi was in the third week of her coma.
The doctors were pretty sure it was a coma and not a vegetative state, so any minute now, Mindi would once again be working her magic throughout Manhattan’s brokerages.
Her eyes twitched behind the gauze.
Reflex, the doctors said. Just a reflex.