Page 20 of Ms. Lead

I nod. “That’s fair.” I suppose I can’t ask for more. Not without telling every secret I hold.

“Good.” She stands to leave. “How long are they keeping you? Do you know yet?”

“Overnight, in case of a concussion, they don’t want me alone tonight.”

My mind instantly switches to thoughts of Bianca and better ways to kill time at night. I shake the idea away. Maybe I do have a concussion.

“Well, I’ll have Bianca fetch you in the morning then.” She turns as if to leave, but I stop her.

“No, wait.” I can hear the heart monitor next to me beeping frantically as anxiety takes me over at the thought of Bianca seeing me like this. “Is there someone else that can pick me up tomorrow?”

Turning back to me, there’s now shock in her eyes. “Did something happen between you and Bianca that I should know about?” I sense her getting defensive, ready to do battle for her friend and employee. It’s honorable of her.

“No, of course not.” I can’t think of anything to say to rationally explain why I want to keep Bianca away. My brain can’t function at any speed quick enough to help me. “Nevermind. It’s fine. Forget I said anything.”

She stares at me again, and I grow uneasy. I don’t like being examined like this, and she keeps doing it. An actor, I am not, so trying to hide anything is nearly impossible for me. It’s why I cut most everyone out of my life, so I don’t have to deal with moments like this. My problems shouldn’t be anyone else’s. It’s not fair.

“Take care, Oliver,” she says, her eyes narrowing slightly as she backs out the door. “I hope you feel better soon.”

“Goodbye, Normandy. Thank you for stopping by.”

I flash a weak smile and give a wave as she goes. As she goes to tell Bianca to leave. As I sink deeper into the mire of my own creation that I’ve expertly developed in my short time here in America. As I stew in remorse and regret for how I’ve treated Bianca.

I need to seriously rethink my life. I can’t keep this up.

Chapter Twelve

BIANCA

SAVE ME (I’M NOT CRAZY)

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “What do you mean he doesn’t want to see me?” I need to keep my voice down, but it’s so damn hard. “What did he say?”

Normandy smooths Ava’s hair as she hugs her leg nervously. She doesn’t like it when people are upset for any reason. My heart craters as I see her reaction to my outburst.

“He just said he doesn’t want to get anyone else involved.” She shrugs as if this is no big deal. Well, it is a big deal to me. “He didn’t give his reasoning, and I didn’t push it. I didn’t feel comfortable pressing him for details on anything. I just met the guy. It’s not like I can just ask him anything I feel like.”

“So, he didn’t say anything?” I find it hard to believe that nothing was said about me. “Did you tell him I’m out here and want to see him?” I hold my breath because if he knows that I’m here and purposely denied my visit, I’ll know where I stand with him once and for all. It will kill me, but I’ll finally know that my feelings and intuition are wrong.

She looks away, not meeting my gaze, and my stomach clenches. There’s my answer. He said no. He said no. I swallow hard and straighten my spine. Fine. If he doesn’t want to see me, he doesn’t want to see me. I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted, either.

“You’ll still need to pick him up tomorrow morning. They’re only keeping him overnight, I guess.” Her tone is laced with sympathy and something like it, which irks me, too, for some reason.

I might just be overly sensitive about anything Oliver-related. Actually, I know I am, but I can’t help it. Just the thought of him hurt and bleeding tears at my soul as though I can feel his pain too.

“Are you sure he wants me to pick him up?” I have to ask. If he’s not letting me see him, I can’t imagine he wants me to pick him up tomorrow. It sounds more and more like he wants nothing to do with me, and I have to straighten to compose myself and not start crying in the middle of the waiting room. I’m getting severe jilted-bride vibes from this situation, and my stomach starts churning at this familiar feeling.

Normandy shrugs slightly and grabs Ava’s hand to lead her out. “You’re his driver. So, you’ll pick him up.” She announces this like it’s a foregone conclusion, but it’s anything but. I can’t argue with her. Even though we’re good friends, she is still my boss, and I still need to do my job.

“Can I come tomorrow with Aunt B to pick up Mr. Belly?” Ava asks, squirming out of Normandy’s grip and running to me, wrapping her arms around my leg tightly and slowing my progress.

I stop and look down at this tiny human barnacle now attached to me and back up to Normandy. I wouldn't mind if she came along, actually. She could be a buffer of sorts between Oliver and me. A good distraction, at least for me, and probably Oliver too. We both look up hopefully at Normandy, standing with her arms crossed, shaking her head at us.

“No, ma’am. Mr. Bellamy will need quiet and rest once he’s released tomorrow. He doesn’t need little girls peppering him with questions the whole time.”

Ava hides her face behind my leg, frowning and disappointed. “I can be quiet….” My heart breaks, and I look at Normandy to find she is not impressed in the least by this show. I guess I’m a pushover because I would have given in at that point.

I gently run my fingers through Ava’s hair, trying to soothe her. I know she’s uncomfortable in the strangeness of the waiting room, so her emotions are a little raw.

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