"So, you had a hot date last night?" Dr. Yoffman asks genially.
"She's going out with a professional hockey player," Stevie says, his eyes brightening, and he even risks a peek up at Dr. Yoffman.
"Oh, do tell," Dr. Yoffman says.
"She's seeing Garrett Samuelson," Stevie supplies before I can even get the words out of my mouth. "And Doc...he is H-O-T."
Dr. Yoffman laughs. "I don't know about those things, but he's a phenomenal player. We were lucky to get him last year. Okay...I've got the core sample. I'm removing the needle now."
I feel nothing, except some gentle prodding pressure. "No stitches are needed. I'm just putting a small bandage over this, and you can remove it a bit later."
I hear the snap of gloves being removed, then Dr. Yoffman and Stevie are helping me sit up.
The nurse busies herself with taking the samples out of the room, and Dr. Yoffman washes his hands again. "You did really well, Olivia. I wish all my patients were that brave."
"It wasn't that bad," I muse. "Although that could be the Ativan talking."
Dr. Yoffman laughs as he dries his hands. Turning back around, he says, "You might be a tiny bit sore. Just take some ibuprofen if you need it. They'll schedule you at the front desk for your treatment tomorrow and I'll see you in four weeks, when we do the second cycle. But I'll be calling you once I get the results in from the biopsy, and also we still need the PET results too."
"That's scheduled in three days," I tell him.
"Good," he says in acknowledgment. "In the meantime, you can call me if you have any other questions or concerns. I'm going to take good care of you, Olivia. I promise."
"Thanks, Dr. Yoffman. You've been very kind," I tell him.
He laughs as he heads toward the door. Shaking his head, he says, "Most patients don't tell me that just after I've punched down into their bone. Thanks, Olivia. You just made my day."
After he leaves, Stevie helps me get off the table and I quickly get dressed.
"Let's go get that coffee," I tell him.
"And I want sex details," he reminds me. "Lots and lots of sex details. I need something to scrub that procedure from my mind."
"Was it really that bad?"
"Oh, God, Olivia...you should have seen it. He was twisting that big-ass spike-looking thing back and forth to work it down into your bone. It was like he was tightening a screw or something. Grossed me out."
"Yeah, well, I'm glad I wasn't watching. It wasn't too painful. Except when he sucked the marrow out. Fuck, that hurt."
Stevie wraps me up in a warm hug, the little sequins on his vest digging in to my face as I rest against his shoulder. "My brave girl. So brave."
I stay in Stevie's embrace, letting him comfort me. Yeah...that didn't hurt that much, but I'm all kinds of scared over what's to come.
--
"He's got a huge package, right? Tell me I'm right," Stevie says as he blows across his caramel macchiato to cool it down.
"I'm not telling you any such thing," I grumble as I sip at my iced coffee. "Those details are for me and me alone."
"Aha," Stevie exclaims and everyone in Starbucks turns to look at him. Leaning in toward me, he whispers, "There's details, so that means you know exactly how big his package is, and I'm guessing you know exactly how he works that equipment."
I snicker and my cheeks fire red, but I hold my tongue. Yes, those details about what happened last night are for only me. They will remain in my memory, and I'll draw upon them when I want to erase the ugliness from my thoughts.
"I didn't think it would happen," I ponder out loud. "I mean...I hadn't intended for it to, but I don't know...I just--"
"Just wanted something that was good...exciting...something to take your mind off your troubles," Stevie supplies knowingly. "And I say, good for you, girl. Are you going to see him again or was this a one-time-only thing?"
"We're going out tonight again, but honestly...Garrett isn't a long-haul kind of guy, and frankly, at this point, I'm not sure I'm a long-haul kind of girl."
"Stop it," Stevie hisses at me. "Don't ever say that again. You and I are going to grow old together. I'm going to look fabulous when I'm eighty because I'll have had plenty of plastic surgery and Botox, and I'm going to have a fabulous sequined quilt to lay over my bony legs. You're going to be a beautiful silver fox, and we're going to sit on the front porch and sip mimosas all day long."
I smile at the imagery and at the confidence with which he boasts of such things. It's a beautiful picture and I truly want that to occur. Although I had sort of thought when I got to be eighty I'd be surrounded by my children and their children, not by Stevie wrapped in a sequined quilt.
"Sounds like I might be out of work for a few days," I tell Stevie thoughtfully. "At least tomorrow and the next day while I get my treatments, and then the day after that I'll be a bit late since I have the PET scan. And even if I'm sick, we can just put a garbage can next to the design table for me to puke in."
Stevie looks horrified over my joke. "No fucking way. I want you to take at least a week off. More if you need it. I got the store covered."
"Stevie," I say in warning, "I don't want you to treat me like an invalid. I need to feel normal, and normal to me is working."
"I can't stand puke. It will make me sick," he says adamantly.
"Then I promise to puke in the bathroom, but seriously, you heard Dr. Yoffman. He'll give me medicine that will combat that, and he said it should only last a few days."
"You can't overdo it, though. You have to promise to listen to your body, and if it demands rest, you need to give it rest. Which means that Garrett's going to have to lay off of you for a few days."
Oh, God. I never even thought of that. I hadn't planned on telling Garrett anything, because I had assumed that after tonight, I'd never see him again. In fact, I know tonight has to be the last night, because after that I am truly going to be out of sex commission due to my treatments.
Tonight is it for me. I'll have one more night with Garrett, and I'm sure it will be a spectacular night, but then it's time to part ways. He has more carousing to do, and I have cancer to fight.
Chapter 9
Garrett
I push open the door to Fleurish and saunter in. I'm not supposed to pick up Olivia until eight tonight at her apartment, but I just couldn't fucking help myself. I wanted to see her before then.
Stevie is helping a customer...some big thug-looking dude with a hangdog look on his face. I'm guessing he's in the market for some apology flowers.
Stevie's head swivels my way and a bright and knowing smile pops on his face. "Hey, Garrett...she's in the back."
The guy next to Stevie spares me a quick glance, then does a double take as he recognizes me. "Holy shit...you're Garrett Samuelson. My girlfriend and I are huge fans. We never miss a game."
I walk up to him and stick my hand out. He shakes it with a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Hey, man. Nice to meet you," I tell him. "Shopping for some flowers?"
The man's smile slides from his face. "Yeah...fucked up with my girl and hoping these will make things right."
"Well...I kind of like those white ones there with the little yellow centers," I say, pointing at a vase
within the cooler.
"Excellent choice," Stevie exclaims, and reaches in to pull the flowers out. "Nothing says 'I'm sorry' like happy daisies."
"Okay," the guy says hesitantly. "Sure. That will work."
"I know something that would be even better," I say, an idea popping into my head. Turning my back on the two, I walk over to the checkout counter and immediately see what I need. Grabbing a piece of paper from the printer that sits on a lower shelf and a black Sharpie marker, I hastily scribble some words.
Walking back over to Stevie, I take the flowers out of his hands and hold them up near my face, then bring the piece of paper up to the other side. "An apology would be even better with a personal message, right?"
They both read what I wrote and start laughing. The guy whips out his camera phone and takes a few pictures of me. I put on my most apologetic, simpering look, and ham it up big for the camera.
"Dude...you are like the fucking coolest guy I've ever met," the man says gratefully, and then he pulls up one of the pictures to show me. I look like a fucking dork, but his girl will get a kick out of this.
The sign next to my face says "He's really sorry. Please forgive him."
Handing the flowers over to the guy, I shove the piece of paper at Stevie. "My work here is done. Good luck, man."
Turning away from them to head to the back room, I'm brought up short when I see Olivia standing there, leaning casually against the entryway to the design area and staring at me with a smirk on her face. She's stunning, and I wonder if I'll ever get used to that little skitter of pleasure that floods through me when I first see her. I've never felt that before, and while it's an odd sensation, it's most definitely a pleasant one.
She's wearing nothing more than a pair of faded jeans, running shoes, and a T-shirt that bears the name FLEURISH on it, yet she's far sexier in this very moment than any other woman I've been with before. Fuck...she even has her hair in those loose pigtail braids again, and I hope she keeps them in tonight. Gives me something to grab on to when I take her from behind...and that most certainly is on the agenda for tonight.
"You're too much," she says teasingly.
I give her the best innocent look I possess. "What? No idea what you're talking about."
Cutting her eyes over my shoulder, she gives a nod. "You just ensured not only his girlfriend is going to forgive his transgressions, but also that he's most assuredly going to get laid tonight."