Chapter 18 #2
And Fitz just kept talking.
“Take Winifred here, for example,” he continued. “Lovely girl. Absolutely brilliant at her job. But does she ever just say what she’s thinking? No. She gives you these looks—these absolutely withering looks—like I’m supposed to just know what they mean.”
“I am standing right here,” Winnie said dangerously.
“Yes, darling, I’m aware,” Fitz said. “And you’re doing that thing with your face again. See?” He gestured to Colton. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”
Colton actually nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Vivian does that too.”
“Does she?” Fitz asked with interest.
“All the time! Like, I’ll be telling her about my workout, and she gets this look like—”
“Like she’s contemplating homicide?” Fitz supplied.
“Exactly!”
“COLTON!” Vivian said, her voice sharp enough to cut steel.
Both men turned to look at her.
“We need to talk,” she said. “Now.”
“Sure, babe,” Colton said. “But this guy—what’s your name again?”
“Fitz.”
“Fitz and I are having a moment here.”
I watched Vivian’s face cycle through about seventeen different emotions in the span of three seconds.
“A moment,” she repeated flatly.
“Yeah, you know. Guy talk.”
“Guy talk.”
“About women,” Colton clarified, as if that made it better.
Fitz, to his credit, seemed to realize he’d created a monster. “Perhaps we should—”
“You know what?” Colton said suddenly. “We should get a drink. You and me. Tonight.”
Fitz blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
“A drink. You seem like a cool guy. And honestly, it’d be nice to talk to someone who gets it, you know? Vivian’s great and all, but sometimes a guy just needs to vent about relationship stuff with another guy.”
I felt my brain short-circuit.
This could not be happening.
This was not actually happening.
“I—” Fitz started.
“Come on, man,” Colton said, pulling out his phone. “What’s your number? There’s this great bar downtown. They have wings. You like wings?”
“I’m British,” Fitz said weakly. “We don’t really do wings.”
“They have fish and chips, too.”
“Oh, well, in that case.”
“FITZ!” Winnie shouted.
“What?” Fitz looked genuinely confused. “He’s offering to buy me dinner.”
“He’s Vivian’s boyfriend!”
“Yes, and we’re bonding. It’s nice. Men should bond more.”
“You were just calling him a wanker!”
“That was before I realized he was simply emotionally stunted and in need of male friendship,” Fitz said. “Now I feel rather bad for him.”
Colton was typing on his phone. “What’s your number?”
And Fitz—God help us all—actually gave it to him.
“Brilliant,” Colton said, typing rapidly. “I’ll text you the address. Seven o’clock work?”
“I—yes?” Fitz said, looking as if he wasn’t entirely sure how this had happened.
“Great!” Colton slapped him on the back. “This is going to be awesome. We can talk about women and workouts and—oh, you’re a doctor, right? Maybe you can tell me if I’m overtraining my delts.”
“I’m an OBGYN,” Fitz said. “I don’t really—”
“Perfect! You can give me advice about understanding women better. Vivian’s been kind of weird lately.”
Vivian made a sound like a dying animal.
“Right,” Colton said, finally turning to her. “Sorry, babe. What did you want to talk about?”
Vivian stared at him.
Then at Fitz.
Then at me.
Her expression clearly said: What the actual fuck just happened?
I had no answer.
None of us did.
“You know what?” Vivian said, her voice unnaturally calm. “It can wait. You should go. Fitz is waiting.”
“Fitz and I aren’t meeting until seven,” Colton said, checking his watch. “It’s only five-thirty.”
“Then you should go home and get ready.”
“For drinks at a sports bar?”
“You’ll want to look your best,” Vivian said through gritted teeth.
“Babe, I always look my best.” He flexed. “It’s kind of my thing.”
“Right. Of course. How could I forget?”
Colton leaned in to kiss her cheek. “You’re the best, you know that? Most girlfriends would be weird about their boyfriend making new friends.”
“I’m very supportive,” Vivian said flatly.
“That’s what I love about you.” He turned to Fitz. “Seven o’clock. Don’t be late.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Fitz said weakly.
And then Colton left. Just walked out of the clinic as if he hadn’t just completely derailed what was supposed to be a breakup conversation.
We all stood there in silence.
Winnie was glaring at Fitz.
Vivian looked as if she were contemplating murder.
Gabriel, Nathan, Hayden, and I were trying very hard not to laugh.
And Fitz looked like he’d just realized he’d made a terrible mistake.
“So,” he said finally. “That went well.”
“WELL?” Vivian exploded. “WELL? I was supposed to break up with him, you British charlatan!”
“Were you?” Fitz asked. “Because it rather seemed like you were just standing there while he ignored you.”
“I was trying to find an opening!”
“An opening,” Fitz repeated. “Right. And how was that working out for you?”
“I had a plan!”
“Did your plan involve him hitting on Winnie for ten minutes?”
“He wasn’t—” Vivian stopped. “Okay, he was. But that’s not the point!”
“Then what is the point?”
“The point is that I was going to break up with him, and now I can’t because you made plans to get drinks with him!”
“I didn’t make plans,” Fitz protested. “He made plans. I just... didn’t say no.”
“Why not?”
“Because he seemed sad!”
“He seemed sad?”
“Yes! Sad and lonely and in desperate need of male friendship!”
“He has friends!”
“Does he?” Fitz asked. “Because from what I could tell, he spends most of his time at the gym talking to his reflection.”
Despite everything, I snorted.
Vivian whirled on me. “This is not funny!”
“It’s a little funny,” I said.
“It’s not!”
“Viv,” I said gently. “He gave Fitz his number. Fitz is going to have drinks with your boyfriend. This is objectively hilarious.”
“I was supposed to break up with him today!”
“And you still can,” I pointed out. “Just... maybe not right before his bromance date with Fitz.”
Vivian looked like she was going to cry or scream or possibly both.
Fitz stepped forward cautiously. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“You never mean to,” Winnie snapped. “You just do things without thinking about the consequences.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” Winnie asked. “You swooped in like some kind of knight in shining armor, completely ignored the fact that I can handle myself, made everything about you, and now Vivian can’t break up with her boyfriend because you’re having drinks with him!”
“When you put it like that.”
“It sounds exactly like something you would do,” Winnie finished.
Fitz looked genuinely hurt. “I was trying to help.”
“You always are,” Winnie said quietly. “That’s the problem.”
There was a moment of heavy silence.
Then Hayden cleared his throat. “So... seven o’clock?”
“Apparently,” Fitz muttered.
“You’re actually going?” Gabriel asked.
“I gave him my word.”
“You gave him your phone number,” Nathan corrected. “There’s a difference.”
“Not in Britain, there isn’t.”
“We’re not in Britain,” I pointed out.
“More’s the pity,” Fitz said darkly.
Vivian sank into one of the waiting room chairs, her head in her hands. “This is a disaster.”
I sat down next to her, putting my arm around her shoulders. “It’s not a disaster.”
“Quinton, my boyfriend is having drinks with Fitz.”
“I know.”
“Fitz called him a wanker.”
“I know.”
“And now they’re friends.”
“I know.”
She looked up at me, her eyes slightly wild. “How is this my life?”
“Because you work at Clinically Approved,” I said. “Where nothing ever goes according to plan and chaos is the only constant.”
“I hate it here,” she muttered.
“No, you don’t.”
“I really, really do.”