Me: So this small, casual wedding is no more?
Dean: There are more people on the guest list then I actually know.
I laugh and shake my head. I don’t understand why people freak out so much over a wedding. I get that it’s a big deal and it symbolizes something huge. Love should be celebrated.
But not at the expense of going into debt.
Dean: Also, Kara doesn’t know what to do about the bachelorette party
Me: Aren’t her sisters planning it?
Dean: Yeah, I mean she doesn’t know if she should invite you or not. You can’t do anything.
Me: I can do lots of stuff.
Dean: You know what I mean, sis…
Me: I do. Tell her she doesn’t have to invite me. We can go out and drink another time.
Dean: Good plan. Another question…
Me: Yeah?
Dean: Do you still want to be in the wedding party?
I blink once. Twice. Three times. I know he’s only asking because Kara’s hoping I’ll say no.
Me: I want to be in it if I’m welcome.
Dean starts typing and stops to delete what he wrote several times. I look at my phone, waiting for him to respond. Now I know this is all Kara. Even if Dean didn’t want me in the wedding party, there’s no way in hell he’d risk the wrath of our mother. She’s going to be pissed.
Shaking my head, I put my phone down and get back to work. Five minutes later, Dean calls.
“Calling to kick me out of your wedding?” I ask. I’m being catty, but it’s Dean.
“Shut up.”
“Then why are you calling?”
He sighs. “Kara is worried about you being super pregnant at the wedding.”
“Super pregnant? Nice.”
“Well, you either will be, or you’ll have a newborn.”
“I know.”
“Right now, we have an even number of bridesmaids and groomsmen, but we can’t assume you’ll be there.”
“So you’d rather not have me?”
“No,” he rushes out. As annoyed as I am with him, I do feel a little bad for the guy. This wedding is turning levelheaded Kara into a bridezilla. “I want you there. But if you don’t want to be there, it’s okay too.”
“Gee, way to be subtle.”
He laughs. “Yeah, that did sound bad. What I mean is, I don’t want you to feel bad if you can’t be there. I know you and how you feel bad about everything.”
“That is true, but I really don’t think I’ll feel bad if I’m pushing out a baby the day of your wedding. It’s not like I’m bailing because I’m too lazy to go.” I pick up the pen again and start tapping it against my desk, not realizing how much this is upsetting me. “You can’t punish me for being pregnant.”
“I’m not!”
“It feels like you are. And let me remind you that my due date was determined before you picked your wedding date. You’re acting like I chose when I got knocked up just to spite you.”
“That’s not true.” Dean lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry, okay?”
“Okay.”
A few seconds of silence tick by. “Mom said you and Archer are going to Hawaii?”
“I think so. We’re going somewhere in October. We still have to pick a place.”
“That’ll be nice. Get a chance to relax before the baby comes and all.”
“That’s our thinking.” I subconsciously rub my belly. “Are you still weirded out by us?”
“Yes,” he says honestly. “But it’s cool too. My best friend is the father of my niece. He’s family now.”
“Right. It’ll make holidays more fun for you to have him there.”
“It will, and I think we’ll have to bust out some of our old traditions. You might not know about them.”
I laugh. “I don’t think I want to.”
“Hey, sorry to cut you short, but Dad and I have to head out and see a client.”
“Thanks for calling.”
“Of course, sis.”
We hang up and I feel a little better, though it still stings to know Kara is more concerned about having an equal number of bridesmaids and groomsmen in her photos than having me there.
Getting up to pee, I force myself to talk to Mike and Samantha, who incorrectly coded the new program. They took the news better than I hoped. There were no tears at least.
My phone dings when I sit back at my desk. It’s Archer, replying to the group messages. He was in surgery and missed it all, but doesn’t care about dates either. He calls right after that, and I answer on the first ring.
“Hey, babe. Are you okay?”
I know exactly what he’s asking about. “Yeah. Dean called and tried to explain. Kara is obsessing over things being perfect and is worried I’m going to go into labor at the altar or something.”
He chuckles. “If you’re still pregnant by then, it’s entirely possible.”
“Oh my God, don’t even say that. How’s your day going? You’re out of surgery already? It’s early.”
“I just finished my second procedure for the day. I started at six a.m.”
“I am not a morning person.”
“I’ve noticed.”
I prop my feet up, trying to hold off on taking my shoes off. They’re just so pretty. “I’m going to look up resorts and plane tickets during lunch. Want me to send you options?”
“Sure. I’m looking forward to seeing you in your bikini all week.”
“Baby bump and all.”
“You’re still sexy, Quinn.”
I smile. “I’m glad you think so.”
“I do. And I keep thinking about you in that lingerie. I should have taken a photo.”
“I did take one. Want me to send it to you?”
“Do you really have to ask?”
“I’ll send it then.”
A page goes out for Dr. Jones, echoing through the phone. “That’s me,” he says. “Gotta go. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I quickly send the photo, smiling when I think of Archer’s face when he opens the text. Setting my phone down, I get back to work, only making it so far as pulling up a new file before Archer texts me back. He’s at work and can’t send me a sexy photo back, but just a selfie of him in his scrubs is enough for me. I flip my phone over but don’t just see Archer’s name.
I see Archer’s name next to Dean’s…in the group message we were just texting in.
Oh God. No. No, no, no, no. I didn’t—I mean I couldn’t—but maybe. I madly unlock my phone.
“Oh my God.”
I did. I sent a sexy photo of myself to Archer and my brother. I might as well start digging my own grave now because I’m officially dead.
“Fuck.” I start typing something only to stop. What the hell do I say after this?
Archer: Thanks, babe, but I don’t think Dean wants to see that. Sorry, buddy. Don’t really wash your eyes with bleach. It could make you blind.
Me: Delete this whole thread, Dean. Now.
I space out my words, trying to bury the image so he won’t see it when he opens the text.
Me: Don’t
Me: Even
Me: Look
Me: Just
Me: Delete
Archer: What are you doing?
Me: Burying the image. OMG OMG
Archer: So you don’t want me to screenshot it and send again?
Me: NO
I set my phone down, laughing to keep from crying. Sucking it up, I call Dean. His phone rings. And rings. And rings.
And then my mother answers. I don’t know if this is a blessing or a curse.
“Hey, honey! Dean’s out on a job with Dad. He left his phone at home.”
“Hi, Mom.” If I could internally cringe any harder, I’d turn inside out.
“They won’t be back until later. Is something up?”
“Uh, not really.”
“It’s good to see you two talking again,” Mom says.
I clo
se my eyes, bracing myself for what I’m going to say. There’s no point in denying it, in acting shy and trying to pretend like Archer and I are waiting until marriage. I’m pregnant, for fuck’s sake. “Mom, I need a favor.”
“Sure, hun. What is it?”
“I accidentally sent a sexy photo of myself to Dean and Archer when I meant to send it to only Archer. Obviously. Can you delete it?”
A few seconds of stunned silence tick by. “Oh, well, you shouldn’t send images like that, Quinn. You of all people know what happens on the internet does not stay on the internet.”
I don’t bother telling her that statement doesn’t quite make sense. “Mom, please?”
“I don’t want to see it. Can you hack in and delete it or something?”
“If I could, I wouldn’t be asking you this very embarrassing favor. Just open the texts and delete the thread. You won’t see the picture. I buried it with text.”
“Okay.” Mom pulls the phone away from her ear. My heart is thumping and I’m pretty sure I’m just a ghost right now after I died of embarrassment. “It’s gone.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“That’s something I never thought I’d have to do,” she laughs. “Especially not from you.”
“I know.” I shake my head at myself. “I was trying to send it fast and wasn’t paying attention. Archer, Dean, and I have had a group chat going for a while.”
“That’s good news. Those two need to get along.”
“It’s not Archer who’s not getting along,” I say, automatically becoming defensive. “Dean’s the drama queen, remember?”
“Be nice to your brother, but yes, I remember. And it’s a good thing he left his phone because this wouldn’t have gone over well.”
“Oh, I know. I need to get back to work. Thanks again, Mom.”
I hang up and put my head in my hands, and then text Archer, double checking that it’s only him I’m texting. I resend the picture and tell him that I had to ask my mother to save me.
I’m never going to live this down.
It takes a while to get back into the groove of things for work, but by lunch, I’ve moved past my stupid mistake. I go to find Marissa so I can make her walk with me to get hotdogs.
Jacob is walking in as I’m leaving my office. Oh, shit. I forgot I told him we could have lunch sometime when he came back from out of town. Is it too late to turn around and pretend I forgot something in my office?
“Quinn! Hey!”
Yep. It’s too late. “Hey, Jacob. How was the trip?”
“Decent. San Francisco is a nice city. Are you still able to grab lunch?”
He came all the way from his office, and I technically did tell him yes. “I, uh,” I mumble, looking around the office. We’re surrounded by people and I don’t want to embarrass the guy. “Sure.” I’ll let him down gently. “Did you have anywhere in mind? I was going to grab a hot dog from the vendor on the corner. We can sit in the courtyard and eat.”
“I actually made us reservations at Mickey’s.”
Mickey’s is a little authentic Italian place a few blocks from here. They have the best cheese ravioli in the city. And it’s also where we went on our first date.
“Mickey’s?” I echo. “I haven’t been there in a while.”
“I figured so. It’s hard getting a table there.”
“Yeah, how’d you manage that?”
“I helped Mick’s son build a robot for his science fair. I have priority seating any time now.”
“Ohh, look at you, you baller.”
He leans back and narrows his eyes, nodding. I laugh and look back at my office. “Let me grab my purse then.”
“Okay, great.”
I debate on asking Marissa to ‘invite herself’ along to save me from any potential awkwardness. But I owe this to Jacob. If he’s going to try and ask me out again, I want to be the one to let him down easy. We didn’t have a passionate, wild, love and lust-filled relationship, but we’re friends.
We get into the elevator together, neither speaking, and stand against the mirrored wall to let the little space fill with others. I put my hand on my stomach, bracing for the slight drop to make my stomach flip-flop.
“How are you feeling?” Jacob asks, flicking his gaze to my hand.
“Better now that I’m—wait, you know?”
“That you’re pregnant?” he asks with a laugh. “I liked your announcement photo on Instagram.”
“Oh yeah. You did. So you know Archer and I are together then, right?”
“I assumed so. I mean, you are pregnant.”
My brows pinch together. “So you’re not…”
“Trying to take you out on a date?” He laughs again. “No. I mean, if you’d let me take you out, I would. Archer’s a lucky guy.” He takes a step closer. “I have a business opportunity and we want you?”
“Are we finally building life-sized animatronic dinosaurs?”
“Close. Dragons.”
“Even better.”
He smiles and flicks his eyes to a few of my co-workers. I nod, knowing that this isn’t something we can talk about in the elevator. The ride down takes forever, and my feet are aching by the time we’re out on the sidewalk.
“I worked on a project for Henry Gibbons last year.”
“I remember.” Henry Gibbons is an environmental engineer who’s made some great advancements in protecting the oceans.
“He wants to start his own company with a focus on energy saving.”
“And he wants me?”
“Yeah. You’re the best at what you do, and we need someone who can develop and write code.”
“Then you came to the right person.”
Jacob smiles. “Nothing’s been set in stone yet, and we’re just spitballing but need to get a team more or less established before we go through with things.”
“Go on.”
“He has office space in Lincoln Park, and during the start-up phase we’ll have to meet several times a week, but this will eventually turn into something you can mostly do from home. It’s a ways out—we’re still looking for investors—so don’t worry about giving me a yes or no to this. Just let me know if you’re interested.”
Writing code from home and developing advancements in technology that can help save the world? “Hell yes, I’m interested.”
21
Archer
I zip up my suitcase and haul it into the living room. I’m on call tonight and then I’m home free, ready to spend a week on the Hawaiian coast with Quinn. Everything is ready, and I plan to sleep as much as I can until I have to go in. Then it’s come back here, take a quick shower and drive to Chicago so Quinn and I can board the plane together.
The last time I went on a real vacation was my senior year during my pre-med schooling. Dean and I went to Miami for spring break, stayed in a shitty-ass motel and almost got hustled by a pair of twins. Can I even consider that a vacation?
“Did you pack the ring?” Sam asks, coming out of the kitchen.
I turn, giving him a surprised look. “You know about it?”
Sam’s eyes widen. “I was giving you shit. You really bought her a ring?”
“Not quite. Her grandma gave me her ring to propose with.”
“Are you going to?”
I run my hand through my hair and sit on the couch, reaching for my wallet on the coffee table. The ring is inside, and I’ve been constantly worried about losing it.
“I don’t know.”
Sam hikes an eyebrow. “Weren’t you just telling me yesterday how you’re all ready and shit to start a family and live together.”
“Yeah. And I am. I want to marry her. Hell, I’ve known she’s the only one for years.”
“So what’s the fucking problem?”
I let out a breath. “What if she says no?”
Sam laughs. “You’re joking, right? She’s in love with you and is pregnant with your child.”
“That doesn’t mean she wants to get
married before the baby is born.”
“So don’t get married before the baby is born.” Sam grabs the TV remote and sits on the lounge chair opposite me. “You’re overthinking this. You love her. She loves you. If you want to propose, then fucking propose.”
“I think the ring is too small.”
Sam makes a face. “Give it to her now and upgrade later. You’ll be able to buy a big rock in a year or two.”
“True, but I mean the actual ring. It won’t fit on her finger.”
“Get it resized. Or is that bad to do with rings with sentimental value? I don’t know this shit.”
“I don’t either. Her grandma suggested using the diamonds in another setting, but it feels wrong to take the thing apart.”
Sam nods. “Just ask her. I want to throw you a bachelor party.”
I chuckle. “I’ll do it just for your sake then. But no, we’re not going to try and recreate The Hangover.”
“You’re no fun, man.”
“We’ll do that for your wedding.”
Sam lets out a snort of laughter. “I don’t plan on settling down anytime soon. Don’t forget, I’m younger than you.” He turns on the TV. “One more year of residency and then I’ll be making bank and can use that to impress the ladies. Only one-night stands for me.”
“You’re such a standup guy.”
“Please,” he retorts. “If you hadn’t knocked Quinn up that’s all she’d be to you.”
It’d be easy to get mad at him and say Quinn’s always been so much more to me, that we’d find our way together somehow.
But maybe we wouldn’t.
I lived for years with a hole in my heart years ago? Would we be married with children already? Dwelling on what-ifs does no good. But thinking about the future does. And I’m not going to stand back anymore.
I’m proposing to Quinn on our trip.
I change out of surgical scrubs and grab my shit from my locker. I got three and a half hours of sleep before I got called in. I’ve been in back-to-back operations since, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make the four-hour drive without falling asleep behind the wheel. I’m going over everything in my head and assuming traffic is moving like normal, I can get in a good power nap before making the drive.
I have a missed call from a Chicago number. There’s no voicemail, and a tiny bit of panic flashes through me that something happened to Quinn. I call her cell right away, and she answers on the third ring.
End Game Page 18
