I placed her child against the beating of her heart and prayed for one of those miracles doctors could never explain.
Tears were rolling down her cheeks as Mary stitched up the wound I had created. The husband was kissing the side of her head as she held her lifeless child in her arms. I closed my eyes. I prayed to a God I didn’t believe in. We needed a miracle. We needed one of those things science couldn’t explain. We needed-
One small hiccup caused the room to fall deathly silent. The chaos outside of the room fell into the background as we all watched the small child curl its toes. One hiccup turned into two, and two turned into three. And when the mother began to cry tears of joy and the father placed a kiss on top of the child’s head, that marvelous sound was heard.
He finally started to cry.
“Thank you,” the husband said breathlessly. “Thank you so much.”
I looked over at the male nurse as he wiped away his tears.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“Follow me up to the NICU,” the nurse said.
I walked alongside him as O.R.’s and emergency rooms were turned over faster than I’d ever seen them before. We walked in silence until we got up to the where all of the children were who shared the same birthday. Infant boys and girls of every color, shape, and size, all wrapped up and nestled into their rolling bassinets as the nurses performed tests to make sure they were all right.
“What’s the connection with all these women?” I asked.
“Lettuce,” the man said.
I furrowed my brow and slowly turned my head to face him.
“Lettuce,” I said.
“You know the CDC has been warning the entire country about that romaine lettuce out of Yuma, Arizona.”
“I’m aware. But even if all of these women ate tainted lettuce, it would take weeks for anything of this magnitude to occur,” I said.
“Not if you add sushi into the mix,” the nurse said.
“Sushi?” I asked. “Can you spit it out, please?”
“There’s a place downtown that guarantees a sushi for every kind of sushi lover and ‘sushi for those that don’t’.”
“Uh huh. Fun little marketing ploy. So what are they claiming and how are these women involved?”
“They’re claiming that they have sushi that’s safe for pregnant women. No mercury, high iron content, fresh vegetables to make it both yummy and healthy for mommy and baby. I talked to some of the women in the E.R. when they first started coming in. I asked them what they’d been eating lately, and that’s how I found out. I haven’t asked all of them, but if nine of them have that connection-”
“Then the rest of them probably do as well. Okay. You need to go downstairs and write this up with Human Resources. They need to file a warning with the CDC and get that restaurant’s marketing ploy pulled. They’re making medical claims without understanding that’s what they’re doing and it’s pouring women into this E.R. with massive complications. I’m sure tainted lettuce is in this somewhere, but I wouldn’t be shocked if all of these women had high mercury levels in their bloodstream as well. In fact, test the placentas. I want to know how bad this is.”
“I’ll get on it,” the nurse said.
I walked into the NICU and told the nurse what was going on. About the theories me and the nurse had. I wanted pin pricks done on all of the infants to make sure none of them had something floating around in their bloodstream that could cause complications further up the road.
Then I headed back down to the E.R.
Twenty women within the span of two hours delivered beautiful, healthy children. The mothers were finally stabilized, the infants were under a close watch, and the CDC was being informed of the issue we’d encountered. I sat down in a chair in the corner and put my head in my hands, drawing in deep breaths before letting them out through my nose.
The only good thing about something like this was that it usually signaled a boring rest of the night.
But outside of that, there was nothing good about any of it.
“So,” Mary said. “You found a wing place?”
She sat down beside me before handing me a cup of coffee.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Don’t mention it. You were a rockstar tonight.”
“Hardly.”
“All the children are alive. The mothers are stable. Families are happy. You’re a rockstar.”
“Yes, I found a wing place,” I said. “It’s over there by… uh…”
“Is it the one in the alley?” she asked.
“So you do know it.”
“Come on. There isn’t a wing place in this city I don’t know about. But when everyone finds that one, they always want to tell me about it. You should try their dry rubs next time. My favorite is the garlic parmesan.”
“Got a vampire problem?” I asked.
“You make jokes, but it’s great. Did you get a dessert?”
“The salted caramel molten cake.”
“Oh, yes. You did it up right,” she said.
We clinked our coffee cups together before we sat back into the wall. The E.R. was finally dying down and women were no longer crying. The waiting room was empty and the nurses were finally getting a break. I sipped on my coffee and closed my eyes, preparing myself for a very quiet night.
But in the back of my mind, I wondered what Ivy was doing.
Where she was going.
And if she had gotten there safely.
Chapter Nine
Ivy
I landed in Tokyo and drew in a deep breath. I felt like shit for canceling on Dean, but it was work. I didn’t have much of a choice. One of the largest fashion shows in the world was short a choreographer and they had chosen to call me. And I couldn't turn that down. I tried to find a way around flying out that night. A red eye flight that could accommodate me after dinner or something. But there had been nothing. I was lucky to have snagged the last seat on the flight that I was able to book.
For now, work came first.
And I hoped Dean would understand that.
Tokyo was incredible. Full of life and vibrant with color. Crowded, for sure. But the open restaurants that poured right onto the street called to my taste buds. Food vendors sat on the corners of major intersections and sold things like fresh noodles and deep fried, airy desserts. I dropped my things off in my hotel room before I took to the city, exploring as much of it as I could before I needed to work.
But I couldn't get Dean off my mind.
I landed safely. Work called me all the way to Tokyo. It’s incredible over here. I’ll send you pictures.
I didn’t hear back from him immediately, but I hoped he would respond. I took pictures of all the bright lights and the signs in a language I didn’t understand. I took pictures of all the food I was eating and even sent him a few with me smiling and the city looming in the background. One after another, I sent them. Trying to get him to see I was telling the truth. That I was thinking about him, even though I had to cancel our date.
Eventually, he responded.
But it was short and to the point.
Looks nice. Glad you’re safe.
I found my way to a cherry blossom garden and it was oddly serene. The bridge over the water was spectacular and the traditional architecture took my breath away. I sent Dean more pictures. Beautiful snapshots of the petals falling into the water and slowly floating away. It was breathtaking. Really a sight to behold. I closed my eyes and stood on the bridge, allowing the fresh air that seemingly came from nowhere to fill my nostrils.
To run over my skin.
To caress my face.
Then, I pulled out my phone to see if Dean had messaged. But I had nothing.
I really did have to fly out for work. There’s a massive show that happens in Tokyo and a couple of the designers had choreographers that bailed on them. I’ll be back in a few days.
I stood there and waited for his response, but nothing came.
At l
east, not immediately.
I understand.
Two words.
That’s all I got.
I’m sorry, Dean. I really am. I promise I’m going to make it up to you.
Have fun.
I shoved my phone back into my pocket and cursed underneath my breath. The garden was beautiful, but I didn’t feel like being there any longer. I knew I screwed up. I knew I’d hurt him. And after rejecting him the way I had, I could only imagine how he felt. I wanted to call him, but it would cost me a phone bill I’d never be able to pay back. Maybe I could send him a video message. But it wasn’t guaranteed that he would watch it.
Or even believe the words I had to say.
There was nothing I could do. My work came first. I’d slaved away wiping down tables until I got my first break into this career, and I couldn't squander it over a date. Dean was fantastic, but this was what my life consisted of. This was the kind of thing that always pissed of Zander. I couldn't be attached to a man that didn’t understand my line of work. I couldn’t go out on a date with a man that didn’t understand the volatility of my schedule at times.
But still, I decided to shoot Dean one last message.
My work is like this sometimes. It’s why I kept turning you down. I love what I do, but it isn’t kind to those in my life. I’ll be back in a few days, and I hope you’ll talk with me. But I understand if you don’t.
It was all I could say.
I turned off my phone to try and push it all to the back of my mind. I was due at the runway anyway for last-minute rehearsals. I shook hands with the two designers and had a quick meeting with the models, then I sat down and listened to the music the designers had picked out. Ideas started flooding my mind and I rehearsed them in a corner as people watched. But I didn’t care they were watching. I didn’t care if they thought I was weird. This was how my creative process worked, and this was what would save their fashion show.
Then, I got to work.
I walked the models through the turns and twists. I led them by the hand through each footstep until they could retrace it with their eyes closed. Two days passed with heavy rehearsals, and I soon forgot about the worries back home.
Oh shit. My phone was still off.
I slipped into the bathroom and turned it back on. I didn’t expect anything to be there, but if Grace or Emilia were trying to get in touch with me, they were probably freaking out. I stood in the stall and stared at my phone, watching and waiting to see if anything rolled in.
I didn’t have any missed calls or voice messages, but I did have some text messages.
And they were all from Dean.
How’s Tokyo?
Tried any local delicacies?
Don’t work yourself too hard.
I know your work comes first. Mine does as well. I understand. I’m disappointed I couldn't see you, but I do understand.
My fingers flew across the screen of the phone at record-breaking speeds. I had no idea when these messages were sent and I wanted him to know I had gotten them. That I wasn’t ignoring them. That I was so glad to hear from him.
I was disappointed, too. If it means anything, I tried to find a red eye flight out to Tokyo. One that would drop me here after we had our date. And there was nothing. There were some first-class seats, but I’m not rolling in that kind of dough. Yet, at least.
I sent the message off and held my breath before a knock came at the bathroom door.
“Ivy? The models are done with their lunch break.”
“Coming,” I said. “Just taking a breather.”
“Trust me. I get it,” the designer said. “Five minutes.”
Then, my phone vibrated in my hand.
It’s okay. It was all for the best anyway. Had we continued with our date, I would’ve been called into work two hours into dinner.
Did something happen? Is everyone okay?
Let’s just say this tainted lettuce debacle is a real thing. Especially when people combine it with sushi.
Then I’ll stay away from the sushi in Tokyo.
I’m sure their sushi is fine, since they know what they’re doing. But maybe stay away from puffer fish.
I usually don’t take a side of poison with my fish.
Good. It’s not doctor recommended.
I smiled. It felt so good to be talking with him again. I slipped my phone into my pocket and went to coordinate the last rehearsal, then I prepared for the evening fashion show. And it went off without a hitch. All of the models showed up, the outfits were perfect, the makeup was spot on, and no one fell on their face. I was able to get wonderful video footage of my work with the models as well as advertise my last-minute services if anyone else finds them in a bind, then I was released.
Free to mingle, or explore the city, or go home.
I rubbed elbows with a few people and gave out my business card. I didn’t know when I was going to be in Tokyo again, so I took the chance while I had it. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I excused myself, then headed for the front door so I could hail a cab.
How’d the show go?
I smiled at Dean’s message as I slipped into the cab.
Really good. Got my name out there a little more. I’m headed to the hotel to get my things, then I’ll be making my way to the airport.
Then I won’t keep you too long. Have a safe flight. Glad you stayed away from the puffer fish.
I smiled and shook my head as I slipped my phone back into my pocket.
I stuffed my things into my small traveling bag and headed for the airport. I walked up to the kiosk and started looking at the flights, trying to find the quickest one back to the city. My eyes scanned the rolling screen of flights before I got tired, so I approached the front desk and started talking to the woman who was there to help.
“Do you have any flights heading back to New York City tonight?” I asked.
“I can check for you. Do you have any particular time in mind?” the woman asked.
“Just the soonest one. I’m ready to get home.”
“Did you not enjoy your stay?”
“Oh, I loved it. But there’s no place like home.”
“What’s the name?”
“I don’t have a ticket,” I said.
“Having your name will help me reserve a seat on a flight for you until I can collect the rest of your information.”
“Well, then my name is Ivy Breckenridge.”
“All right… and it looks likes- oh.”
“What?” I asked.
“Ivy Breckenridge?”
“Yes?”
“Flying to New York City?”
“Yes?” I asked.
“Are you sure you don’t have a ticket?”
“Yes?”
“Because according to our system, you do.”
I furrowed my brow as the woman turned her screen around for me to see. My eyes scanned the screen as a breathless giggle fell from my lips.
One first-class, straight-shot flight from Tokyo to the city.
And it left in an hour.
“Then I guess I do have a ticket,” I said.
“I’ll get it printed out for you and you can head through security. You don’t have much time.”
I pulled out my phone and took my ticket from the woman, my thumb sliding along my phone screen.
Thank you, Dean. But you didn’t have to make it first-class. Economy would’ve been fine.
Enjoy your flight. And take advantage of the service. I hear this particular airline is great with it.
I owe you a ticket.
You owe me a dinner. Which means I’ll see you soon.
I shook my head and smiled before I typed a message back.
Looking forward to it.
And I really, really was.
Chapter Ten
Dean
Ivy had been back in the country for a couple of days, but I hadn’t heard from her. I figured she was tired, so I tried not to bother her too much. Was the first-class
ticket too much? Maybe I should have made it business class. But I didn’t want her worrying about her comfort on the ride home. I was also trying to be a little funny, given our prior conversation about it. Plus, it was kind of an apology for my cold temperament towards her.
Maybe I tried to do too much with that one ticket.
Are you doing anything tonight?
I looked down at the message and quickly opened my phone.
Unless I’m called into work on my free weekend, no. It’s nice to hear from you, by the way. How was your flight?
Very luxurious. Which means I have a lot of making up to do with you. I’d like to start by making you dinner.
Does this mean I’m getting fed Italian tonight?
Depends. Are you free tonight to come over to my place?
Of course I was. I sent her a message back telling her I was free and she promptly shot over her address. There it was. That wonderful missing piece I’d been longing for. I told her I’d be there at six and she told me the food would be ready by then. It had been years since anyone had cooked me a meal. I was a terrible cook, so I survived on microwavable vegetables and restaurants. I looked over at the clock and saw it was almost three, so I hopped in the shower and went through the painstaking process of getting ready again.
Showering.
Shaving.
Picking out an outfit.
Since I was going to her place, I didn’t feel the need for a suit. A pair of jeans and a nice polo would do the trick just fine. I prayed that nothing would happen as the hospital tonight so I could share this night with Ivy. Finally, after almost two weeks of batting messages back and forth, I was going to get to see her again.
And when I pulled up into her apartment complex, I got nervous.
I walked up to her apartment and I could already smell the food. I groaned to myself before I knocked at the door, and it quickly whipped open. There she stood, with her long blonde and green hair with those beautiful brown eyes filled with the yellow of the sun. She had flour on her nose and a very dirty apron wrapped around her waist, and somehow she still managed to look gorgeous.
“Fancy seeing you here,” I said with a grin.
“I’d hug you, but I’m covered in sauce,” Ivy said.
Falling Into You: The Complete Naughty Tales Series Page 40