Chapter Twenty-Four
Theo
I don’t want to be a jerk, but Mallory will not leave me alone. The more I try to pry myself away from her, the tighter her grip becomes. She’s like a human Burmese python. Today alone, I received a dozen texts from her. She wants to meet and talk, which means she wants to do the talking and none of the listening. I don’t have time for this.
She said she wanted to give me my birthday present. I know what she usually “gets” me for my birthday, and I don’t want that anymore. Thank goodness the present she got me was only a small Etch A Sketch game. I’m sure she made some excuse at the toy store about buying it for a ten-year-old. I have to give her points for trying to embrace my love of games, but it’s too late, and I’m not so naïve as to think this was a genuine gesture.
We’ve had the “it’s not working” talk-argument at least three times this week. It didn’t sink in before the move back to Nashville, and it’s not working now. I guess she thinks she’ll wear me down eventually like she usually does. But this is not like the other times.
On the bright side, I received another message saying that my birthday plans for Darla awarded me three new letters to the puzzle. I don’t know yet what letters to choose. If I choose correctly, this could break the puzzle wide open.
On my way to the doctor’s lounge, the click, click, click of Mallory’s heels on the tile floor don’t hide the fact that she’s following me. I know who it is before she touches my arm. Compared to Darla’s touch, which makes me feel alive, Mallory’s makes me feel as if I got pricked by a jellyfish. I roll my eyes and let out a heavy sigh.
“Oh, babe,” she says. “Let’s talk.”
I close my eyes and do my best to steady my breaths. “Mal, why are you doing this to yourself?”
I march into the elevator, and of course, Mallory follows me. Boy, she doesn’t even stop to take a breath. Her fingers fly across her phone, sending a text, while she still complains to me. She’s a multitasker, that’s for sure.
“I don’t know why you won’t go to the chancellor’s dinner with me. Hellloooo, it’s the chancellor.”
Please, God, help me find my happy place. I replay the afternoon with Darla in my mind. Perfect day. Yep, I found my happy place.
The elevator door begins to close, when a sweet voice says, “Hold the elevator.”
I stick my foot in the doorway, and Darla rushes in. Well, this is going to be tons of fun.
“Thanks,” Darla says. “Nine, please.”
She leans against the other wall of the elevator as we start our ride upward; her eyes bore into mine. I feel as though I have a neon sign over my head, blinking “ex-girlfriend kissed me.” I gulp. Of course, the elevator has to make a stop at every floor, extending this predicament as long as possible. Awkward. Mallory’s eyes flick up over her phone at Darla.
“Darla.” Mallory’s voice is so high-pitched, it could break glass. “I’ve been so busy; I haven’t had a chance to call you.”
Darla focuses her attention on me, arching an eyebrow. “I’m sure you have been.”
Shit. She knows.
Oh boy, this is going to be interesting. I feel sorry for the innocent souls that happen to catch the same elevator as this little love triangle. I jingle the change in my pocket and stare at the open and close buttons on the elevator wall. I try to will the mechanics of the elevator to miraculously zip up the shaft quicker. Dang it. My superpowers aren’t working today.
Mallory must have gotten wind of my interest in Darla. That would certainly explain the full-court press she has put on me this week.
“Let’s get together real soon,” Mallory says.
Darla stares straight at Mallory, and I would love to know what she’s thinking. “Absolutely.”
Mallory zones back into her phone. When I glance back at Darla, she gives me a disapproving “mom” expression. I guess I deserve that. If we were alone in this elevator, I would be all over her. I sneak a peek at Mallory, who is giving me the stink eye. Busted. My best plan of attack is to fake confusion. I raise my hands to defend myself.
“Darla, have you met my fiancé, Theo?”
Darla busts out laughing. The jugular vein in Mallory’s neck is about to explode.
“We’ve never been engaged,” I say. “Besides, you broke up with me, remember?”
She sticks a bony finger in my face. “You tricked me into saying it, and you know it.”
I shrug as I run a hand through my hair. If this elevator breaks down, I’m going to climb my way out of here. They both stare at me. Darla cocks her head. All of a sudden, the “in case of emergency” notice on the wall is very intriguing. A trickle of sweat slides down my back.
“He works out at the wellness center sometimes,” Darla says to Mallory.
Thank you, you sweet thing. I owe you one big time.
“Oh,” Mallory says. “Babe, why didn’t you tell me? I would love to work out with you. We could do Pilates or Zumba together.”
Darla snorts.
I have to think of something quick. “Well… it’s always spur of the moment. You know how my schedule is.”
“You working tonight?” Mallory’s fake interest in Darla is so transparent, a blind man could see it.
“No, I’m headed upstairs.” Darla holds out her cut hand. “I hurt my hand the last time I was working on nine. I wanted them to know I was going to live.”
By the sourpuss scowl on Mallory’s face, I’m not sure she has the same feeling as the ninth-floor staff. The elevator door opens, and Darla exits.
“Toodles, Darla,” Mallory says.
She waves as she exits the elevator. “Toodles.”
When the elevator stops on the tenth floor, I take Mallory by the arm and lead her to a vacant conference room. I close the door behind us. “Mallory, please stop.”
She fidgets with her phone. “I miss you, that’s all.” She slumps down in a chair at the conference table, and I sit in one next to her. I take her hand in mine.
She gazes up at me. “It’s Darla, isn’t it?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
“Yeah. We’ve both known it wasn’t working between us. You haven’t been happy with me, either.”
She shrugs. Her phone buzzes, but for the first time I can remember, she doesn’t answer it. “Do you love her?”
I nod. “I do. I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I’ll always care for you, but Darla has my heart.”
Her lip trembles. She takes a deep breath. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”
This girl is exhausting. I stare at the ceiling, trying to find the right words. “Yes, it does. I have to go.” There’s a girl on the ninth floor who deserves an explanation.
Mallory crosses her arms over her chest. “You’ll be back, and I may or may not take you back.” She gets up, spins on her heel, and stomps out of the conference room.
Since the elevators are notoriously slow, I take the stairs down to the ninth floor. I burst through the door and run right into Darla, almost knocking us both down. My arms wrap around her waist to steady her, but she pushes away from me.
“I was hoping I’d run into you,” I say with a wink.
She rolls her eyes at my terrible pun and pushes the button to call for the elevator five times. I take her by the hand and guide her to the supply closet.
“Really? The supply closet? You need to read something other than medical romance novels.”
I cage her in against the Pyxis medication inventory equipment. “She ambushed me.”
Her jaw clenches. “That’s your problem, not mine.”
“I don’t want her.” Her expression softens, so I continue. “It doesn’t matter what she says or what she tries. I love you.”
Darla grabs me by the collar and yanks me down to plant a hard kiss on me. One kiss leads to another, until we are both starving for oxygen. I rest my forehead against hers, breathing in her breaths.
“I want to… never mind. Every time I get up the courage to tell you, something drives down my courage. You should get back to work.”
We ride down the elevator together, hand in hand. I’ve never prayed so hard to keep Mallory from popping into the elevator again.
Darla mumbles to herself, making her even cuter.
I cock my head to the side. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She kisses me one more time on the lips. “See you soon.”
She wraps her arms around my neck and gives me a squeeze. Then she pushes away from me and bolts down the hall.
That was odd. But I’ll take her quirky oddness over Mallory’s possessiveness every day of the week and twice on Sunday.
I review my latest text clue. I reply “S, L, B.” Before I make it back to the clinic, my phone buzzes. The message reads:
You did not choose wisely.
“Argh,” I moan, stomping down the hallway and inadvertently startling an elderly lady heading toward me. “Sorry,” I say.
Another text follows:
I know you worked all day long.
But trust me, I won’t do you wrong.
A nighttime workout could make your mood lift.
A little birdie says she has to work the night shift.
If I ever meet the person sending these clues, I’m going to kick his or her butt. I drag myself into the fitness center, and even though it’s only nine o’clock at night, I want nothing more than to have a date with my mattress. Tomorrow is going to be another long day at work. But I want to solve this puzzle, and so far, it’s not spelling out anything that makes a bit of sense.