Girl That You Love

“EMMA!”

The shrieking yell of her name coming from Christian’s office made her jump up from her chair. She saw Christian storming out of his office with Joel at his heels. Oh shit, she thought.

“Christian, you have to accept my resignation, I start in two weeks,”

Christian marched over to her. “Emma, tell me you didn’t know about this.” He shoved the resignation letter in her face, making her pull away quickly.

“I didn’t know it was going to be typed up,” she offered weakly, glancing apologetically over at Joel.

“How could you not tell me!? Give me a heads up so I would have time to make a counter offer!” Christian’s face was red with fury.

“Christian, no counter offer would make a difference to me. I’ve already made my choice,” Joel said calmly.

“He’s right Christian. You’re just going to have to let him go.” She placed her hands on her hips in a steadfast stance.

Christian stared at her open-mouthed. “And lose my best political correspondent?”

“Oh come on Christian, we’ll hire another. It’s not like there isn’t a plethora of youngsters dying to be a part of this magazine,” Emma countered. She took his hand. “And I will help you with the interviews.”

Joel gave her a surprised and grateful look.

“Emma, you’re a saint.” He turned to Joel. “You can go to hell.”

“Wait, what! Christian, you’re being stupid about this whole thing!” Joel exclaimed, as he watched Christian walk away.

Emma clapped him on the back. “Don’t worry Joel. He’ll come around… right about the time you leave.” She giggled and he frowned.

“This will be the longest two weeks of my life.”

“Me too, I’m supposed to be getting married by then,” she replied, taking her seat. Joel sat down at his cubicle opposite of her.

“Sorry you have to add interviewing to your list of things to do before then,” he remarked.

She shrugged. “It’s no big deal. It could be worse.” She turned to look at her computer as a rush of nausea swept over her. She faltered a bit and caught her head in her hand. “Oh my God, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“What,”

Before Joel could get to her, Emma leaned over into her trash can and vomited. She heard a few ‘Ews’ coming from other writers around her, and a few had jumped up to come to her aid.

“Em, are you okay?” Ahmed asked her, kneeling beside her.

She groaned. “Call Marie.”

Ahmed nodded and grabbed her phone off of her desk to find Marie’s number.

“Can someone escort me to the bathroom please? I’d hate to keep vomiting here in the middle of the bullpen,” she whined, and Joel helped her up and handed her off to Debbie and Val, two of the social writers for the magazine. They helped her to the bathroom and set her down in one of the stalls. “I can’t be getting sick right now!” she wailed, as another round came up her throat.

“Sidney and Phil both got some stomach bug about a week ago,” Debbie noted, as she and Val waited outside of the stall.

“Yeah, and my daughter’s whole school seemed to come down with it,” Val added. “Most of the kids were out for at least a week. It was awful, my friend Julie, her daughter couldn’t keep anything down. It was disgusting.”

“Thanks, that makes me feel a whole lot better,” Emma said sarcastically. She grabbed some toilet paper and wiped her mouth. “So can I have a glass of water, or ginger ale?”

“Of course, dear, we’ll get you one!” Val exclaimed, pulling Debbie with her to retrieve something to drink to relax her stomach.

Emma groaned once they were gone, mentally lamenting her misfortune for getting sick. She put her hand to her forehead. She didn’t feel very hot, but sometimes stomach viruses didn’t come with fevers, she told herself. But a fever was the least of her concerns. She had been feeding herself Emergen-C like it was candy, hoping to fend off such a virus, and here she was sick as a dog.

Val and Debbie returned with a can of Canada Dry from the vending machine, and she sipped it slowly, while she waited for Marie to get there and take her home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m not really sure there is anything sexier than an Australian accent,” Pete commented as the guys headed back to their dressing room after a round of meet and greets.

“I’m not sure I think that a Spanish accent is still sexier,” Joe retorted, flopping down on one of the couches and closing his eyes. Pete took a seat next to him. “You know, Menage-a-trois and all that.”

“That’s French, dummy,” Patrick laughed, grabbing his laptop and plugging in his headphones.

“And there goes Patrick, off to warm-up land,” Andy commented, taking out his drum pad and sticks.

“And what exactly are you doing?” Patrick pointed out, gesturing toward Andy’s drums.

Andy grinned. “I was about to hit Joe with them.”

“Hit me! What? Hey what did I do?” Joe complained.

Patrick shook his head and smiled. It was their last tour date in Australia, and he couldn’t be more ready to head back to the states. Not that he didn’t love to travel, visiting the different countries was one of the best parts of touring for him, but he was ready to get married, and getting back home was the first step.

“Hey Patrick, you know I was thinking,” Pete piped up, interrupting Patrick’s warm-up.

“Really? I was just about to get started,” Patrick said, putting his headphones down. “What is Pete, what is on your mind?”

“I am thinking that you don’t have to come back to LA and stay there next week with us.”

“What are you talking about? We have to record,”

“We don’t need your vocals yet. We can get all of our parts out of the way and you can come in later.”

“Pete,”

“Yeah, he’s right,” Joe added.

“You need to be in New York. I’m sure Emma would love to spend the week with you before you both tie the knot,” Andy said.

“Guys, I appreciate that, I really do, but Emma knows I need to be recording and,”

“Patrick, this whole last three weeks you’ve been distracted. Getting married is probably the biggest thing that will ever happen to you,” Joe pointed out.

“Until you all have kids,” Pete laughed.

“Whoa, can we just get married first?” Patrick said, paling a bit.

“What not ready for kids yet, Patrick? You’re almost 30!” Joe said.

Patrick closed his laptop and proceeded to fix his hair under his hat, a nervous habit he had. “Whoa, so are you Joe! I don't see you and Marie with a pair of twins in a running stroller."

"That's because you won't see me running in public," Joe replied. "Marie and I are different though. We are family people like you and Emma are. Kids make sense for you guys."

"I know. And I’m ready, Emma and I talked about it. It’s just, I want to focus on one thing at a time, and right now getting married is it.”

“That’s why you need to be back in New York with Emma instead of in LA with us. We’ll be fine, you can trust us,” Pete said warmly. “I won’t be too much of a diva for these guys.”

“Yes, he will, but we’ll just slap him if he gets out of hand,” Joe replied, as he and Pete exchanged smirks.

Patrick sighed. “Thanks guys. It would be nice to get back home and just have some alone time with her before the wedding craziness really begins.”

There was a knock on the door just then, and Marcus opened it up to reveal Wendy, their PR rep, standing there with a very concerned look on her face.

“Wendy, always a delight to see you,” Patrick said a bit sarcastically. In the last couple of months, ever time she had come to visit them, it always was regarding some stupid rumor or terrible incident with Emma. He was beginning to think of Wendy as the Bringer of Death, jokingly of course.

She shut the door behind her and took a seat opposite of Patrick. “Have you talked to Emma at all today?”

Patrick shook his head. “She’s probably busy at work, it’s like what, ten in the morning there?” He glanced at the other guys who had all leaned in, looking as intrigued as he felt. “Why what’s up?”

Wendy sighed. “Maybe I should just come back until after you talk to her then.”

“Ha, ha, no, you aren’t just going to sit down in front of me like that, acting like you’re about to give me a death sentence and then walk away before dealing the final blow,” Patrick said, standing up. “What’s going on?”

Wendy pulled her iPad out of her briefcase. “You’ll find out eventually I suppose. It’s definitely something we will need to get a handle on. The press, no, the fans will go crazy over this.”

Patrick took her iPad and stared at the headline on Perez Hilton’s website followed by several pictures that Patrick immediately wished he could have seared from his memory. His heart started to ache, his lungs started to have a difficult time taking in air.

“Patrick, what is it?” Pete said gently, standing up and grabbing the iPad from him. “Oh, shit.” Andy and Joe stood up and peered over his shoulder.

On the screen, was the caption: STUMP’S FIANCE’S SEXY SLEEPOVER FRIEND, and there were several pictures of Emma in her pajamas outside of their condo hugging, and from one angle, it appeared kissing, Joel.

“Patrick, there must be some mistake,” Pete said firmly, handing the iPad back to Wendy.

Patrick shook his head. “Did you read the brief summary?” He grabbed the iPad out of Wendy’s hands, forcefully. “Who’s this sexy man Patrick’s Stump’s fiancé had over at their condo for nearly four hours last night? Looks like things got pretty steamy between the two of them judging by that end of the night kiss. Wonder if this means the wedding is off now?” He started to throw the tablet, but Pete grabbed it from his hands.

“Patrick, calm down,” Pete said.

“I knew Joel still had a thing for her!” he exclaimed. "Everyone thought I was fucking crazy." He stormed over to the wall and punched it hard, leaving spots of blood on the white paint.

"Whoa, Patrick, kind of need that hand," Pete said, rushing over to his best friend and grabbing him into a strong hold.

“Why don’t you just call Emma and find out what happened,” Andy said reasonably. “I’m sure there is a logical explanation,”

“For why Joel was at our house for four hours!” Patrick shouted.

“Er yeah, exactly.”

Pete placed a hand on his shoulder. “Patrick, give her a call. You know you can’t rely on these stupid tabloids to tell the truth.”

Patrick pulled his phone out and dialed Emma’s number.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh god, maybe there’s some miracle drug that can kill the virus,” Emma muttered crawling onto her bed.

“If it’s a virus, hun, then all you can do is let it run its course,” Marie replied, helping Emma into her sweatpants and a t-shirt. “Feel better?”

“That’s the thing, it just comes and goes. That’s so weird. Go grab the thermometer out of the medicine cabinet. I need to see if I’m running a fever.”

Marie nodded and walked into Emma’s bathroom. “Have you talked to Patrick at all today?” Marie asked her as she rummaged through the cabinet for the thermometer.

“No, not yet, I was going to wait a few hours. They should be starting their last concert soon. I can’t wait to tell him I’m deadly ill.”

Marie found the thermometer and brought it to Emma. “Say ah,”

Emma smirked. “Ah,” she said, sticking her tongue out. Marie stuck the thermometer under her tongue.

“So it’s just a stomach thing right?” Marie asked her.

Emma nodded.

“How long?”

Emma held up two fingers.

“Is it constant?”

The thermometer beeped and Emma pulled it out of her mouth. “Hmm, 97.6. Definitely no fever. And Marie, you starting to sound like a doctor.”

“Is it constant though?”

She shook her head. “I feel nauseous mostly in the morning and sometimes in the evening. I’ve only thrown up a couple of times.”

Marie squinted at her quizzically. “I’ll be right back.”

Emma sat up. “Where on earth are you going!?”

“Oh you’ll be fine! It’s not like you’re puking up blood!” Marie called out as she raced down the stairs.

Emma harrumphed and flopped back onto the bed.

About ten minutes later Marie returned with a bag from the Duane Reade around the corner. “Okay, you may think I’m crazy, but I’m going to need to you to pee.”

Emma sat up again. “Pee? You don’t think its dehydration do you?”

Marie pulled a long pink box out of the bag. Emma’s eyes widened. “No, Marie, I’m not pregnant.”

“Have you had your period yet?”

“No, but I figured it’s just all of this stress…”

“Go pee on this stick now,” Marie ordered, handing her the box.

Emma groaned. “Fine. If only to prove to you that this is just an illness and not a baby.”

She ripped the box from Marie’s hand and marched into the bathroom. She sat down on the toilet and pulled open the box, taking one of the packages out and opening it. She felt some butterflies in her stomach as she spread her legs and held the stick under her. She couldn’t be pregnant. Her and Patrick agreed that they wouldn’t try to start a family until they were married for a few months, and they were so careful every time they had sex. No, she thought, it’s not possible.
Once the stick was wet, she pulled it out and placed the cap back on. She stared down at the lines, watching as the negative line appeared first. “Phew, see, not pregnant!” she called out to Marie.

Marie stepped into the doorway. “Em, you have to give it a few seconds.”

“Marie, if the second line was going to appear, it would have appeared,” she trailed off as a second line appeared on the window. “Shit.”

Marie smiled widely. “You were saying?”

Emma looked up at Marie. “I’m pregnant.”

Marie nodded. “You sure are, babe.” Then she squealed and ran over to hug Emma. “I’m so happy! You and Patrick are going to have such a cute baby!” she squeezed Emma tightly.

“Uh, Marie, can we finish this after I get off the toilet?” Emma asked.

Marie detached from her. “Oops, yeah, sorry.” Emma stood up and pulled her sweatpants up.

“Marie, Patrick and I are going to have a baby,” Emma said, shaking her head in wonderment. “I have to tell Patrick.”

“Yeah, you kind of do,” Marie laughed. “Congrats babe, that’s amazing. Good thing it just happened because you don’t have to buy a new wedding dress.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “That’s a great point, Marie, thanks.”

She reached for her phone, and as she did, it started ringing. “Oh, wow, Patrick’s calling me.”

“He must sense the awesome news from all the way in Australia,” Marie said happily.

Emma answered the phone, trying hard to keep the suspense of her news a bit longer. ‘Put it on
speaker’ Marie mouthed to her. Emma nodded and did. “Hello baby,” she cooed. “I’m so excited that you called because I have the best news,”

“Really?” Patrick spat out, interrupting her. He sounded furious. “The best news huh?”

Emma glanced at Marie who was taken back by Patrick’s tone. “Patrick, what’s wrong?”

“What happened last night Emma?” he said accusingly.

Emma looked at Marie questioningly. “Patrick, I don’t know what,”

“Really? You don’t know what I’m talking about?” she heard Pete mutter in the background, ‘yo, man chill a bit.’ “Okay then I’m just going to ask you. Are you cheating on me with Joel?”

Emma’s blood ran cold. “Patrick, what has Robbie told you? Whatever it is, it’s not true,” she started.

“Wait, Robbie knows!? Jesus Christ Emma, is this really happening?” he let out a hollow laugh. “Well you did a pretty shitty job of keeping it a secret. The whole world knows.”

“What? Patrick, what are you talking about?”

“Wendy just showed me a post on Perez Hilton with pictures of you and Joel kissing outside last night!”

Emma gasped. She didn’t think there were any paparazzi around the house last night, and besides, her and Joel didn’t kiss. “Patrick, I didn’t cheat on you, I promise!” she exclaimed. “Joel came over but it was nothing. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Emma, I… I’m having a hard time believing that. I mean, the pictures say it all. You look so happy.”

“Patrick, you have to understand,”

“I think I do. I know all of this has been really hard on you. Maybe us being together isn’t working.”

Emma sucked in her breath and fell down on the bed. “Patrick, what are you saying? You’re going to
believe a stupid tabloid story over me?”

“Emma, this is too hard. We’ve had problems ever since we’ve gotten engaged. Maybe it’s time to call it quits.”

Emma bit her lip, tears rolling down her cheek. Marie grabbed the phone from her.

“Patrick, I think you better hang up now before I kill you,” Marie said sternly, and then she hung up the phone. “Oh my God, what is his problem?! He didn’t even let you explain!” She sat down next to Emma.
“Em, are you okay?”

“Nothing happened,” she whispered. “He came over to tell me he’s leaving New York. He kissed me on the cheek, Marie, it was all platonic, Robbie was here the whole time, I swear, I didn’t do anything wro,” she couldn’t finish her sentence before breaking out in deep sobs. Marie wrapped her arms around her.

“Shh, it’s going to be okay Emma. I’ll talk to Joe. We’ll fix this.”

She shook her head. “I think Patrick deep down doesn’t want to go through with this. I don’t think he likes all the attention, all the responsibility.” She looked up at Marie worriedly. “Oh god, what am I going to do now? I don’t want to take care of this baby all by myself.”

Marie caressed her hair. “Em, that’s not going to happen. Patrick wants to be with you. I know it. We are going to fix this.”

Emma saw a glimmer of fear in Marie’s eye’s, and she wondered if it really could be fixed.