by Jiffy Kate
Basically, I’m on a stake-out.
Actually, it’s more like I’m a fucking stalker, at least that’s how I feel.
Ever since my talk with Sebastian a couple of days ago, all I can think about is talking to Quinn. I thought about texting her, but I couldn’t bring myself to send it. I thought about giving her a call, but I wasn’t sure if she’d answer.
So here I am, camped out in front of the hospital like a fucking weirdo. I’m surprised security hasn’t come over and told me to leave.
I guess this is public property. I mean, I’ve seen all types of people come and go since I’ve been here. Some people are sick. Some people are visiting sick people. Some people are taking care of the sick people. There’s actually another lady sitting in her car on the opposite side of the lot. She’s been there for a while. From what I can tell, she’s reading a book, probably taking a break from whatever she’s at the hospital for.
As I’m making up a scenario for the woman reading in her car, I see a black SUV pull into the parking lot that I know to be staff parking. I sit up straighter in my seat and put my coffee in the cupholder.
My heart beats faster as I hold my breath, waiting to see her.
What the fuck am I going to say?
I mean, I’ve thought about it. A lot. But now that I’m here, nothing I’ve rehearsed seems good enough.
What if she doesn’t want to see me?
What if—
That thought catches in my throat as I see her step out of the driver’s side.
Her long brown hair is down around her shoulders and looks like it’s still damp. The pale blue scrubs she’s wearing hug her body. Somehow Quinn makes anything look good. I’ve always thought that. But seeing her this morning, I don’t think she’s ever looked this good—a fucking sight for sore eyes, my sore eyes.
I watch her as she digs into the back seat and comes out with a large bag. Something falls onto the pavement and as she bends over to get it the bag on her shoulder starts to slide. I immediately open the door of my car, ready to run across and help her.
But before I can even step out and cross the street, a man comes to her rescue.
He’s tall with dark hair and is wearing scrubs with a white coat.
Dr. Cartwright.
Daniel Cartwright.
I watch as he picks up the contents that fell and puts them into the bag for her, taking the other one from her shoulder and carrying it for her. She laughs as something else falls out of the back of the SUV and picks it up, throwing it back inside.
They seem happy.
He puts an arm around her shoulders and they walk into the hospital like that.
Together.
I try to make my mouth work, to call out after her, but nothing.
I try to make my feet work, to run after her, but they won’t budge.
I can’t.
I can’t mess with her happiness.
So instead, I get back into my car and leave.
Chapter 20
Standing in my bedroom, looking at myself in the mirror, I ask myself the recurring question: what the fuck am I doing?
This time, I must’ve asked it out loud because I get a groan from Fergie as she watches me from the bed. She still hasn’t forgiven me for abandoning her a few weeks ago. She practically lived with Lucy and Will and gained a good five pounds.
No telling what those fuckers fed her.
I finally pulled my head out of my ass a week or so ago and realized I couldn’t keep sleeping at the office and avoiding everyone, including my dog. She didn’t deserve that. I’ve apologized by taking her to the park as much as possible, but we don’t go on Sundays.
That’s a hard no.
“How do I look, girl?” I ask. The lazy dog rolls over onto her side, giving me the same look she gives me when I ask her what I should eat for dinner. If I had to guess, it’s the dog equivalent for I don’t give a fuck.
“Yeah, neither do I,” I tell her, bending down to rub her ears.
I stand back up and look at myself again. It’s not that I’m nervous, and I’m definitely not excited. I guess I’m just indifferent. I want to go and get this over with and get Sebastian off my back.
He and Lexie fixed me up with one of Lexie’s co-workers, Samantha. According to Lexie, she’s pretty and funny. Truthfully, she could be Miss Fucking America, and it wouldn’t make a difference. But as long as she doesn’t have an annoying laugh or look like Zach Galifianakis, I think I can handle it.
And who knows? Maybe this is exactly what I need to get out of my funk.
Or it could be a complete fucking disaster.
I’m not sure if there are any rules out there on how long you should wait to date after you get your heart trampled. It’s been almost two months since I last talked to Quinn and a few weeks since that morning at the hospital when I saw her walking in with the doctor, looking happy and like everything was right in her world. So I guess it’s time to move on, or at least try.
That’s what I’m doing.
I’m trying.
With Samantha.
I swear, if she’s annoying, I’m going to beat the shit out of Sebastian.
Actually, maybe that’s what I need to get out of my funk.
Waiting outside the restaurant Samantha picked out, I watch people come and go.
A group of girls pass by, giggling.
A couple walks in, arm in arm.
There’s a family of four walking down the sidewalk; the little girl is annoying the shit out of her brother. The mom chastises, and the dad threatens to take them both back to the car. I can’t help but smile. It reminds me of my family.
Lucy is two years older than me. We’ve always been at the perfect age to get on each other’s nerves. But I love her, and I know she loves me. She and Will have been really great these past couple of months. Outside of incessantly checking up on me, which I’m sure our mother put them up to, they’ve been really supportive and haven’t pushed too much.
“You have got to be Jude,” a voice says from behind me.
I take a deep breath and hold the smile on my face, trying to put up a good front. I remind myself that it’s not this girl’s fault that I don’t want to be here. Who knows? Maybe she was forced into this stupid date too.
Turning around, I see a petite woman, not much taller than my sister. Her curly light brown hair frames her face and hangs down past her shoulders. Her eyes are blue, and her skin is slightly tanned, like she’s recently been to the beach. When she smiles, a dimple peeks out from her cheek. She’s not horrible.
“I am. You must be Samantha,” I say, offering her my hand.
“I am.” The sing-song reply surprisingly doesn’t get on my nerves. I see the hesitancy in her eyes and recognize the reluctant way she looks at the restaurant. “So, wanna get something to eat?” she asks, pointing over her shoulder.
“Sounds great.”
I really am hungry, and as we’re seated at our table and the aroma of food hits me, I realize I haven’t eaten since breakfast. “I’m probably getting ready to embarrass myself,” I admit.
“Why?” she asks, giving me a small smile as she looks around cautiously.
Leveling her with a stare, I admit, “I haven’t eaten since breakfast, so I might order half the menu.”
She laughs a little, shaking her head. “Don’t let me stop you,” she says, motioning to the menu. “I grew up with four brothers. I’m not a stranger to a dinner table throwdown.”
I laugh too, feeling the mood lighten. “Good to know.”
Continuing my perusal of the menu, I take a second to check myself, wondering if there could be anything here between the two of us. Maybe I can’t see it or feel it because I’ve been so closed off since Quinn. But even with the thorough self-examination, I don’t feel anything romantic toward Samantha. However, I can admit it feels kind of nice to be out, and regardless of what happens, at least I’m going to get a good meal. I’ve heard nothing but good things abo
ut this place since it opened.
“I’ve heard the Pub Burger is amazing,” Samantha says, looking down at her menu.
Glancing up at her and then back to my menu, I add, “I was just thinking I’ve heard really good things about the food here.”
“Yeah, everyone from work has eaten here, except me.” She laughs, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t get out much.”
“Well, now you won’t be left out.”
“Yeah,” Samantha says, picking up her water glass. “Cheers to that.”
“Cheers to not being the lame friends.”
We both laugh, taking drinks of our water.
After a few minutes, the waiter returns and takes our order. I get an appetizer and the Pub Burger, and Samantha orders a grilled chicken salad.
“You ordered a grilled chicken salad at a place known for their burgers?” I ask teasingly, or hoping it sounds that way.
“I don’t like red meat,” she says, scrunching her nose.
“So, you work for McDavid, have four brothers, and don’t eat red meat. What else is there to know about you?” I ask. Because I’m trying. And she’s nice. And I don’t want to be the dick who was rude on a blind date.
“I live around the fashion district in a walk-up. Lexie and I have known each other since high school, but we hated each other back then.” She laughs, pausing. “I like to do yoga, and I have a cat named Sally,” she says, shrugging. “What about you?”
I chuckle, thinking about how completely different we are.
“Well, I work with Sebastian. We’ve known each other since college. I love extreme sports.” I pause as the waiter sets down our appetizer.
“Extreme sports?” she asks.
“Yeah, like jumping out of planes, mountain biking, parasailing, bungee jumping… You name it, Sebastian and I have tried it.”
Her face pales. “Are you serious?” she asks with a look of terror.
“Yeah. I love it, actually.” I let out a deep breath, thinking of how alive I feel when I’m careening down a hill or watching the ground come into view from thousands of feet in the air.
That’s what I need.
Just thinking about it makes me feel less… I don’t know… less sad or whatever the fuck I’ve been feeling. I need to go jump out of an airplane or something.
“I’m terrified of heights,” she says, shaking her head. “There’s no way I could do anything like that.”
I laugh, shrugging my shoulders. “Sebastian and I used to meet every weekend for something. Usually, rock climbing and mountain biking were our go-to’s, but we’re always up for something a little more exhilarating.” I raise my eyebrows, thinking back to the sex club. Fuck. I haven’t thought about that in a while. Looking across the table at the innocent-looking girl staring back at me, I wonder what she’d think about something like that.
Samantha is definitely no Quinn.
Nobody is Quinn, except…
The brown hair twisted in a bun is what catches my attention first, walking in the door directly behind Samantha’s head of curls. It’s walking past us and to a table on the other side of the restaurant.
I’d know that bun anywhere. I’ve pulled it down forcefully and gently untangled it… I’ve used it as leverage. Fuck. I practically groan out loud but manage to hold that shit in, barley.
What the fuck is she doing here?
“Jude?” Samantha asks.
“Yeah? What? Sorry. Thought I saw someone,” I say, bringing my attention back to her and away from Quinn sitting down at a table across the room. Why did she have to come to this restaurant? Hundreds of damn restaurants in this city and she picks this one.
“I was asking about your family. Any brothers or sisters?”
“Uh, yeah, I have one sister,” I say absentmindedly, unable to keep my eyes from drifting over to Quinn as she sits at the table. Then I see him. The doctor. My stomach drops, and I want to hide or run, somehow make myself disappear. I don’t know where to, but I’m not sure if I can sit here. With Samantha. While she’s sitting there. With him.
“What’s her name?” Samantha asks, pulling my focus back to the table once again. I look across at her, and she’s eyeing me like she knows my head is somewhere else. “Your sister. What’s her name?”
I take a drink of my water and then pop a fried pickle into my mouth. “Lucy.”
“Are you guys close?”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding my head. “We’re really close.”
“And your parents? Do they live around here?”
Her questions calm me a bit, helping distract me. I try to keep my eyes focused on Samantha and the food. The waiter comes and brings my burger, and my stomach growls, convincing me that I can do this. Maybe Quinn won’t notice me.
Maybe she will.
Do I want her to?
I chance a glance across the room as I take a large bite of my burger. She’s looking at her menu. He’s preoccupied with his phone. The motherfucker. He should be looking at her. If I were sitting there, I’d be looking at her.
“How’s the burger?” Samantha asks.
Swallowing the bite, I nod my approval. “How’s the salad?”
She smiles and nods. “Good. Best salad I’ve had in a while, actually.”
“And you probably eat a lot of salads.”
“Yeah.” She laughs lightly as she takes a dainty bite.
We both settle into a somewhat comfortable silence as we finish our meals, each of us people-watching. Well, Samantha is people-watching. I’m Quinn-watching, but I’m trying like hell to be smooth about it.
“I’m going to the ladies’ room,” Samantha announces, standing from her seat. “I’ll be right back.”
Smiling, I stand, trying to at least appear to be a gentleman.
As soon as she’s gone, I’m a little more obvious in my watching, training my eyes intently at the doctor’s face as I try to gauge the mood between them. I haven’t seen Quinn laugh once, although I guess she could’ve cracked a smile while I was trying not to watch. But something about her body language tells me she’s not in a great mood. They do seem to be exchanging conversation, and I can’t help wondering what it’s about.
He leans back.
She leans back.
He leans forward.
She leans forward on her elbows, crossing her ankles under the table.
There’s no hand-holding.
No touching.
The doctor slides out of his chair and walks toward the direction Samantha just went. To the bathroom, I presume.
Quinn must feel someone watching her because she turns her head slightly and scans the restaurant. I should look away, maybe hide behind my hand or something, but I don’t.
Maybe I want her to see me.
She does.
She scans past me but does a double-take, coming right back. She doesn’t seem shocked or surprised, just… sad? Indifferent? No, there’s definitely emotion there. I just can’t tell exactly what it is. The corners of her lips turn up into a slight smile, and she nods her head to the side as if to say “hello”.
We both should look away at this point. The eye contact has lingered too long, but we don’t. Not until Samantha walks past and sits across from me.
“Long line,” she says, slipping back into her chair.
I glance back to see Quinn now watching Samantha. The smile on her face grows a little, but there’s still something else there. I want to tell her that this is a blind date and that Samantha means nothing to me, but I can’t. The doctor sits back down, and Quinn forces herself to look away. And so do I.
After I pay the bill, Samantha and I walk out the doors onto the sidewalk. She doesn’t act awkward, like she’s waiting on something more. I’m glad about that. She digs in her purse for her keys, and when she comes up with them, she smiles.
“I had a nice time,” she says, nodding her head. “I don’t usually do the blind date thing, but this wasn’t so bad.”
I laugh, scratc
hing the back of my head. “Yeah, blind dates aren’t my thing either.”
“I can tell.”
Cringing, I hate that I gave off that impression and I hope I didn’t make her feel like it was her. “At least the food was good,” I offer as a consolation prize.
“Definitely,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and rubbing her hands over her arms. “Good food can save a bad date.”
Shit. She’s probably cold and I’m now feeling like a complete asshole. “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I’m sure Lexie forced you into this.”
“It wasn’t horrible.” Her smile is genuine and friendly, nothing more.
“I’m glad,” I tell her, running a hand through my hair and feeling marginally better.
Samantha is a nice girl. Not my type, but nice. She definitely doesn’t deserve to be a rebound screw. Although, my dick and I aren’t quite ready for that yet anyway.
“I’ll give you a good report,” she says with a wink.
“I’d really appreciate that.” Laughing, I shake my head, hoping Lexie doesn’t grill her on Monday morning.
A split second later, Samantha’s phone rings, and she holds the screen up so I can see it.
Lexie
“Damn, she didn’t even wait for Monday.”
“You do know Lexie, right?” she asks, arching an eyebrow.
“Yes. Probably a little too well,” I admit, laughing.
If nothing else, this date with Samantha kept me from staring at the same four walls and eating a microwaveable meal. And I’ve laughed, which I haven’t done much of in a while. For all of that, I’m grateful.
Just as I’m getting ready to say goodbye, the restaurant door opens, and out walks the doctor. He pauses, holding the door open for Quinn.
She stops when she sees Samantha and me standing there.
I see the indecision on her face, her smile faltering, so I save her the best way I know how. I walk away, leading Samantha down the sidewalk toward the parking lot.
Chapter 21
“Skydiving. This Sunday. You and Me,” I tell Sebastian as I walk into his office.
“I can’t.” He doesn’t even look up, just continues typing away on his keyboard.
