Chapter 27 #2
“Elizabeth, what is it that you want?” Fiona’s eyes searched mine. “It sounds like you’ve admitted to falling in love with him.”
“I have. I do. I love him. I insanely love him.” I studied my fingers.
“Then what is the problem?” I glanced up to find Marie, and everyone else, watching me with plain confusion.
“I don’t want to lose him, and I don’t want him to leave me.” There. I admitted it.
“Do you think that’s going to happen?” Kat said.
I fixed my attention back on my twisting fingers.
“Well, when he says things like ‘let’s just take it one day at a time’, and ‘we’ll try each other out for a while and see if it works’, and ‘maybe we need a little distance to figure this out’, then yes.
Maybe he’s being reasonable and I can’t see reason, but I suddenly feel like I’m a pair of shoes, and he hasn’t made up his mind whether or not he wants to buy me.
Meanwhile I’m at the bottom of the ocean, drowning in it, over my head in love with him. ”
The room was silent for a long moment. When I briefly looked up from my hands, my gaze snagged Fiona’s. She was smiling at me softly, gently.
“But didn’t you just say you needed time?”
“No! I mean…yes, I needed, like, ten seconds of time to figure out if I’m ok with him taking some time! …and I don’t think I’m ok with it. I don’t want him to have any time that isn’t me and him time. I’m tired of alone time. I want us, all the time!”
“Elizabeth, have you told Nico this is how you feel?”
I shook my head. “I tried! I really, really tried. But he…he wouldn’t listen.
Especially after what happened yesterday, now he’s saying cracked things like I’m in danger because of him.
He’s making me crazy! I don’t even know how I feel other than miserable.
What am I supposed to do? Ask him to marry me? ”
She nodded. “Yes.”
I blinked, flinched, and wrinkled my nose. “That’s preposterous.”
“It sounds like he’s trying to give you space. It sounds to me like he’s wanted you all along, and he’s been waiting for you to play catch-up.”
I gazed into her elfish eyes, considering her words. “I feel like I’m losing him.”
“Then go find him.”
“How?”
“Tell him how you feel.”
“Except for this morning, after the Fancy Stalker episode, he won’t take my calls. I’ve tried calling him nonstop for the last four days and he doesn’t pick up. And today he told me that I shouldn’t call him again this week!”
Every day without talking to him had been torture, and now that I had talked to him, the idea of going another four days made me feel sick.
What made it worse was that I didn’t know what to expect at the end of those four days.
Obviously because I loved punishing myself, I slept in his bed.
It still smelled like him. I was pathetic.
“Have you tried asking his mother to help?”
“Yes, I’m ashamed to say, I asked for her help on Sunday. But he won’t listen to her; he only responds with texts.”
“Then go to him.”
I tsked nonchalantly, but new tears of frustration ebbed near the surface. “I can’t. I can’t fly out to New York, ask him to marry me, live through his rejection, and make it back here in time for my next shift.”
“Yes, you can, and he won’t reject you,” Janie said.
Fiona and I turned our attention to her hazel eyes. She was making progress on her crochet washcloth. “Really? How?”
“Take Quinn’s jet.” She shrugged. “He can have it ready to go in an hour.”
“He wouldn’t do that for me.”
“But he’d do it for me.” Janie glanced up, her golden eyes sparkling.
“I can’t—”
“Yes. Yes you can.” Sandra abruptly stood and pointed at everyone in the room with a sweeping motion.
“From the sound of it, you were miserable before the Fancy Stalker episode. I know you’ve been through a lot, Elizabeth, but if you don’t do this, you’re just going to continue being miserable with regret.
And to make sure that you do, because I’ve learned how you like to chicken-shit out of stuff, we’re all going with you! ”
“Yes! I love it!” Ashley smiled for the first time that night. “Call Quinn, Janie. Let’s go now!”
“Wait!” What? I felt like I was being slapped awake from a trance.
“I’ll text him to meet us at the airport.” Janie pulled out her cell phone, which she was still getting used to, and began to tap the screen.
“This is madness.” I shook my head. “He’s probably taping his show. How am I ever going to get past security?” I shook my head. After four days of moping and waiting, I couldn’t quite follow the conversation. I was stunned at the swiftness with which my knitting group had decided my future.
“We’ll worry about that later,” Marie said, and along with everyone else, she had already started packing up her knitting bag.
Fiona reached for my hand and squeezed it. “Go to him, Elizabeth. Go to him and tell him you want to marry him. Tell him that you can’t live without him.”
“Right now, I feel like I can’t even breathe without him.”
“Good.” She winked at me. “Men love that kind of stuff.”
The next hour was a blur.
I had to hand it to Quinn, though. The man had mad skills and was, honestly, a bit of a badass. The plane was ready and waiting to depart by the time we all arrived. Quinn gave us an overview of the plan—his plan—as soon as we were buckled up.
There would be a limo waiting for us at the airport.
It would drive us directly to where Nico filmed his show.
I would have one hour to find, talk to, and resolve things with Nico before I had to be back in the car on the way to the airport to make it back for Angelica’s infusion and my 11:00 pm shift at the hospital.
At one point Sandra asked, “What about security? Nico’s security? How do we get past them?”
Quinn’s mouth hooked to the side, he raised a single eyebrow, and he pinned her with his steady icicle gaze. “I am security.”
I think everyone but me swooned a little, even Fiona. I rolled my eyes and scoff-snorted.
Typical Quinn.
Everything was going according to plan except me.
I was freezing up with anxiety. I played the words I would say to him over and over in my head, working through the moves like a chess game, continually changing them.
In my mind, the conversation ended in disaster each time, with him wanting space or telling me I was too late.
I realized there were a million ways he could reject me, and only one way to accept me. The odds were not in my favor.
I was also feeling a little ridiculous. I could just wait until he returned from New York in a week and have this conversation with him then.
But part of me felt like that would be too late.
If I waited ’til then, he might not believe me; he might force us into relationship limbo because he was afraid of pushing me.
Waiting would be rational and reasonable and completely suffocating.
We pulled up to the giant skyscraper that held Nico’s studio. My fingers were talons, gripping the leather bench. I glanced around the car at my good friends who always had my back: Janie, Quinn, Kat, Marie, Sandra, Ashley, and Fiona. They were all watching me, waiting for me to move.
“Go get him.” Fiona whispered on my left.
“We’ll run interference!” Sandra smiled; it was a big goofy grin followed by two thumbs up.
I almost choked.
“Let’s go.” Quinn exited the car first then pointed to me. “You. Out. Now.”
I released an unsteady breath and allowed my friends to push me from the car. They filed out soon after. Quinn was already walking and I jogged to keep up with him. I shook my hands, opening and closing my fingers. My heart was racing. There was no turning back now.
He led us past a pair of armed guards then through a back door then down a series of hallways. We sounded like a disorganized army clomping through the sterile passageway. Quinn stopped at an elevator, which we all crammed into and took to the fortieth floor.
I was lost in my own head and allowed myself to be guided through the maze.
We stopped while Quinn engaged in a discussion with a tall, intimidating looking man wearing a black suit.
Another man wearing a flannel shirt walked up; he had a large headset—the double headphone kind—strapped to his ears. He was shaking his head.
Quinn pointed to me. The man glanced at me, frowned, then shook his head. I stepped forward so that I could hear the conversation.
“…I can’t let you on the set; it’s a live taping, and the audience is full.”
“When my people called, they said Mr. Moretti would be free until eight.” Quinn’s voice was deadpan.
“The schedule had to change. One of our guests had a conflict. I’m sorry but we can’t let anyone out or in for the next ninety minutes. I’ll be able to take you backstage where you can wait until the show is over.”
My heart dropped to my feet, and I wanted to scream Oh, the humanity! But I restrained myself when I remembered what had happened the last time I had screamed on impulse in the middle of a crowd.
I could feel Quinn gathering his scariness around him like a weapon. He stood a little taller, his eyes grew a little colder—if that were possible—and his air became a bit more menacing. I held out hope that he would be able to bully us into the studio, and I’d find a way to talk to Nico alone.
Meanwhile, Mr. Headphones glanced at me again, did a double take and a once-over—obviously absorbing my scrubs, braid, lack of makeup, and the smudges under my eyes—and said, “Wait a minute, are you…?” He crossed his arms. “Aren’t you Elizabeth Finney, Nico’s doctor lady?”
I nodded, unable to stem the verbal geyser that spewed forth.
“Listen, I just need five minutes. Five minutes. I need to talk to him now—right now. But it’s ok if you can’t make that happen.
And it can’t wait; it’s an emergency. Well, not a real emergency; just an emergency to me.
I know I’m acting like a crazy person, but I’ve flown in from Chicago, and I can’t believe I’m asking you to interrupt his show, and it’s very selfish of me and unprofessional, so I completely understand if you have to say no—no pressure or worries—but I have to see him or else…
or else…or else I might die, not actually die, just die a little, every day, on the inside, knowing that I could have done something but didn’t.
Which will likely make me die sooner—but it won’t be your fault, but in a way I guess it would be. ”
I wondered if he followed my path of mixed messages because I didn’t.
During my nonsensical tirade, the ladies huddled around us, and I felt all their eyes behind me, watching the man with the headphones, waiting for his verdict.
He surveyed me for a long moment, his face a scrunched-up mess of amusement and confusion.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you want to talk to Nico about?”
“I want to ask him to marry me.”
He nodded thoughtfully. He stroked his chin. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. “You’ll have to do it in front of everyone.”
I thought about this for a split second then nodded my head. “Ok. I can do that.”
“And you’ll have to get his attention as part of the show. I have no way of letting him know you’re out there.”
I twisted my fingers. “What can I do?”
“Have you watched the show?”
I shook my head.
“You have to get naked.” The answer came from Sandra on my right.
Everyone looked at her, their expressions serious.
“Remember, I’m a fan of the show. First of all, you have to be wearing your underwear just to be in the front-most audience section.
If you want to make it on stage then you have to get naked, or at least mostly naked, or be a crazy good dancer.
The dancers pick out members of the audience to come up and dance with them.
The man spoke up again. “But even then, you’re still in a crowd of people about thirty feet or so from Nico.”
I clenched my teeth, inhaled and exhaled through my nose, then started to undress.
“Oh my God.” Ashley and Sandra held hands. Everyone else watched me with stunned disbelief.
Janie tugged on my arm. “It’s like our panty parties. Do you want me to go with you?”
“No!” Quinn shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
“She has a point, actually.” Marie gave Quinn then me a practical smile. “If we all go in there, we’ll have a better chance of getting his attention.”
Quinn looked at the ceiling as though appealing to a higher power. “This is ridiculous.”
“That’s true.” The man nodded at Marie. “Most people are just trying to get attention for themselves, but if all of you went in there and tried to help Elizabeth, Dr. Finney, get on stage, she’d have a higher chance of success.”
“That means you too, Quinn.” Fiona lifted her eyebrows at him even as she pulled off her shoes. “If I have to go out there and dance in my underwear after having two kids, then you better start stripping.”
Quinn released a breath through his nose that reminded me of a horse, but I knew he would be undone by one pleading look from Janie.
Some of my frayed nerves were calmed by the realization that my girls would be going with me.
I would not be alone, and at the very least, I would be able to tease Quinn Sullivan about this moment for the rest of my life.
I was down to my lacy black bra and matching, thankfully modest, boy shorts first.
Ashley was next. “Thank god I shaved yesterday!”
Sandra was stripped to her underwear soon after. “I didn’t, but I need to. No one look at my downtown.”
“I need to take you all to get waxed.” Marie sashayed out of her jeans.
“No, thank you, waxing is medieval. Do my stretch marks look terrible?” Fiona pointed to a nonexistent mark on her side.
“You look beautiful.” Kat folded her clothes and handed them to the headphone guy.
“Can I leave my shoes on? Or do I have to go barefoot?” Janie’s red shoes matched her fire engine red panty and bra set.
“Does it make a difference?” Quinn, we all tried not to notice, filled out his grey boxer briefs exceptionally well.
She nodded. “With my shoes on I’m almost as tall as you. Between the two of us I’m sure we can draw some attention.”
“Lady, you’re going to draw attention, but it will have very little to do with your height.” Mr. Headphones regretted his words almost as soon as he said them when he found himself face to neck with Quinn.
“Watch your mouth and keep your eyes to yourself.”
“Ok.” Fiona pulled Quinn back a little. “Ok. We’ll measure testosterone levels later. Let’s just get in there before the hour is up.”