One Night In Amsterdam (17 page)

She shrugged, “I just wanted to get away from Manhattan for a while, that’s all,” she said briefly. Obviously she didn’t want to talk much about why she had wanted to leave Manhattan, and I left it there. I've learned not to push Emma.

“Well, Jeff is here. Are you ready to go?”

She looked out the window and saw my black limousine and uttered incredulously. “You are going to take me to the hospital in a limo?”

“Yes, that was my plan.”

“If the other nurses see me arrive in a limo, they will mock me for the rest of my time there. Nuh-uh… I am not going to the hospital in that.”

“We’ll drop you off a few yards away, at the corner of the newsstand, and you can walk to the hospital. Nobody will see you in the shameful state of getting out of a limo.” I said sarcastically. “Come on Emma, stop making excuses… let’s go.”

She heaved a deep sigh and huffed. “Can I ever win an argument with you?” She said, mocking my prior comment.

“See. We make a perfect couple.” I chuckled and replied.  She was stubborn, but so was I, and I was determined to win her heart, even if it was the biggest and most important challenge of my life.

CHAPTER 13

EMMA

After a long twelve-hour shift at the hospital and another hour to get back to Brooklyn in a blizzard, all I wanted was to have some hot chamomile tea with honey and get into bed. However, when I saw Sydney’s name blinking on my phone, I knew immediately that I wouldn’t be able to put my head down for a while. I stared at my phone and opted to press decline. I had avoided talking to her for a couple of weeks and I was worried she would come over and interrogate me, face to face. At least on the phone it was a bit easier to evade her snoopy questions. So, I decided to bite the bullet and answer the phone.

“Hi, Syd.” I said with a tired voice.

“Don’t play the ‘I am so tired, I can’t talk to you right now’ game with me.” She snickered immediately. “You’ve been dodging my calls for three weeks. We have to talk.”

“It’s almost Christmas, Syd. The ER is packed and we are short-handed. I am working five days a week.” I explained quickly, using work as a good excuse for not returning her calls.

“Stop making excuses… I don’t care how sick New Yorkers are… They should eat healthier, maybe they would feel better.”

“I’m glad to hear you are just as caring and charming as ever.”

“You know very well that I am not calling you to hear about the ER or your patients. You can whine all you want to your doctor friends or nurses.”

I was disgruntled with her typical tepid attitude.  “If you do not want to hear about me, why are you calling me Sydney?”

“Of course I want to hear about you, just not the boring old hospital crap.  We haven’t talked since Steve’s party. I saw Amy a week ago and she said some hot guy showed up at the hospital that night and he has been visiting you almost every day, sending messages and flowers. Spill it Ems! What’s going on? Who is this guy? And more importantly, why haven’t you told me?”

“Because there is nothing to tell. Nothing is going on.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Start! Now!”

“Oh, fine.” I grumbled. “Yes, there is someone.  He’s a bit too persistent and also won’t accept ‘no’ for an answer. You already know him.”

“What do you mean I know him?  Who is it?”

“It’s Dylan from Amsterdam, and somehow he found me. I guess he was in New York all this time. He said he was searching for me all over the States for months. Max, his best friend if you remember, happened to be at Steve’s party, and he told Dylan that he saw me. The rest is just like you heard from Amy. He’s come to the ER a couple of times, the first time as a patient. We had dinner and he has been calling me almost every day since.”

“You are kidding, right? The ‘sex god Dylan’ found you and has been trying to see you, and you are saying ‘no’ to him. Oh my god Emma! What’s wrong with you and how could you not call me and tell me about this?”

“Stop calling him sex god.”

“Your words, not mine.”

“I am sooo regretting telling you about him and our night in Amsterdam. You are pure evil.”

“I am not evil. I am so happy that I pushed you to go with him that day. Now tell me more. How is he? Is he still super sexy and handsome?”

“Yes, he is alright, but it doesn’t matter.  There is nothing between us.”

“Why not?”

“Because… I am already struggling to catch up with my life as is. I don’t need a boyfriend to add to my troubles.”

“Ems, you have to get over this ‘I hate relationships’ syndrome. Kyle was a jerk. Dylan is awesome.”

“How do you know that?”

“I can tell.”

“Well, I am going to disappoint you but I do not have time for a relationship right now. I have one semester left. My days are full with my rotations, my thesis dissertation, oh and let’s not forget my troublesome brother.”

“Emma, Dylan is the best thing that’s happened to you in a long time. You need to give him a chance.”

“Sydney! Please! Can we talk about this some other time? I am really tired and I don’t have the energy to argue with you.”

“Fine!” she said aversely.  “But this discussion is not over yet. How is Steve doing by the way?”

“Not good. I finally convinced my father to cut off his financial support. As long as he relied on him, nothing was going to change. He needs to stop being a troubled rich kid. I know he can do so much better if he would only try.” I explained quickly. I was frustrated to see how nothing had changed after his accident. He was irresponsible and immature. He still thought he could fix everything with money and unfortunately my father continued to allow him.

“Wow! That’s a big change. So, what is he going to do?”

“The last I heard he was staying in NYU dorms and looking for a job. He is still not talking to me.”

“What did you expect? You’re making him live like a broke college student.”

“For his own good. He will thank me one day. He needs to grow up and take on some responsibility.  He trashed a quarter million dollar car while he was high and walked away as if it was nothing. He could have killed someone, or himself. ”

“Don’t start grousing again or you’ll lose your sleep. Get some rest. I’d like to see you soon. I miss you.  Let’s get together some time. Alright?”

“I miss you too. How about lunch next Tuesday?”

“Deal. Take care and promise that you’ll tell me more about your hot boyfriend.”

“He is not my boyfriend. Just a friend!”

“Whatever, Ems! Bye…” She said, with a whiff of sarcasm obvious in her voice.

“Bye Sydney.” I muttered back and hung up. With my cell phone on my hand, I strolled back into the kitchen and put some water in the kettle to make some tea. While I waited for the water to boil, I started sorting my mail. Between the usual ads, grocery coupons and several bills, a gilded envelop with the most elegant handwriting caught my eyes. There was no return address and the stamp had yesterday’s date on it. It was sent from Manhattan. I opened the envelope immediately and was surprised to see an invitation.

“Join me for opening night of La Bohéme,

Metropolitan Opera House on December 21st.

I will pick you up at 5:00pm.

Please say yes.

- Dylan”

I stared at his neat handwriting in black ink for a long minute, contemplating what to do next. Should I say ‘yes’ or come up with an excuse? I was still ambivalent to going on a real date with Dylan. The more time I spent with him, the more I was drawn into his irresistible charm and it was getting harder to fight my feelings. Feelings… Since when did I have feelings for Dylan? Did it start when he showed up unannounced at the ER? Or my house? Or the day we met? One side of me wanted to run away from him, but the other side wanted to give in and embrace all the exciting feelings he offered. Oh, the amazing kisses, the mind blowing sex.

I picked up my phone and found his number. I typed “Yes” and hit send. My phone beeped right away.

“I promise, it will be an amazing night.” He wrote back.

The day of our date arrived and after trying on five different dresses, I decided on a long, black satin gown with deep cleavage in front with an open back. I put on my high heel stiletto shoes and light makeup, except for lipstick. It was Russian Red, a gift from Sydney which I had never worn before, but today was the day to be bold. Even though I still couldn’t admit it out loud, I certainly had feelings for this amazingly handsome man. I wanted to charm him as he charmed me. I was ready an hour early and impatiently sat by the fireplace, waiting for Dylan to come.

Dylan showed up fifteen minutes early again. I opened the door without waiting for him to ring my recently fixed door bell.

The instant he saw me standing in front of him, “Wow!” he exclaimed and furrowed his brows. His face looked too serious. It was like he was taking me in and undressing me with his intense gaze. I was struck, almost spellbound as I lost myself in his unblinking blue eyes. To ease the unspoken, heavy attraction building between us, I spun around like a little girl. If I didn’t do something to break his intense gaze, I would have asked him to kiss me and take me right there.

“So, what you think? Better than my good old, bleached scrubs?” I asked jokingly after a deep breath.

“You look…” He swallowed hard.  “Gorgeous! I don’t even know what to say.”

I blushed inadvertently and thought that he looked just as much, maybe even more beautiful in his black tuxedo.  “I hope it’s not too much.” I said timidly.

“No, not at all. It’s perfect.” He answered and paused as he eyed me head to toe one more time. “You are beautiful in your scrubs, Emma, but in this gown you are breathtaking. I will need to be very careful tonight, maybe even hide you in our reserved box from admirers lurking around.”

“We have a box? Those are so hard to get! How did you get one? Don’t say a good friend owed you another favor.” I muttered disbelievingly.

“I donate every year to the Metropolitan Opera and have season tickets for the company. It was time for me to finally use them.” He said, and looked at me apologetically.  “And also …I am sorry for being early again. I really tried to come here on time but time seems to stall when you stare at the clock, and I couldn’t wait any longer. So here I am … early again.”

“Isn’t it a bit early for the show? I thought it didn’t start until eight. What are we going to do for three hours?

“I have a surprise evening planned for you. Now…are you ready?” He extended his hand and clasped my fingers tightly.  He didn’t tell me where we were heading regardless of my begging, cajoling or whining. Only after we took a left turn onto 53rd street on Madison Avenue he did whisper “we are close”. Then we came to a stop in front of the most visited museum in the United States, the world renowned: Museum of Modern Art.

“What are we doing here at MoMa on a Saturday? It is closed.”

“I know!” He muttered smugly, as he pulled me out of the limo and led me toward the museum’s entrance.

“So?” I asked again, a bit impatiently.

“I told you Emma. I have it all planned.”

“But!” I tried to interfere, when he suddenly put his index finger gently on my lips and said, “Why don’t you just relax and let go?” His eyes lit, wandered over my body, resting on my lips a bit too long. Then, he inhaled deeply, turned to Jeff and ordered. “Pick us up here in two hours.”

We were greeted by an attractive lady, probably in her fifties, dressed in a pencil skirt and white blouse, looking very professional, in front of the museum. “Good Evening Mrs. Johnson,” Dylan said, he shook her hand gently and introduced me.

“Good Evening, Mr. Hamilton and Ms. Collins. Welcome to the Museum of Modern Art,” she replied, and turned to Dylan, speaking slowly and courteously. “It’s such a pleasure to have you here tonight Mr. Hamilton. I’d like to express candidly how much we appreciate your contributions and donations to our museum. Although it wouldn’t be enough to match your generosity, at least tonight, your special request, gives us an opportunity to return the favor just a little bit.”

I was confused with what was happening around me.  We slowly sauntered towards the elevator as Mrs. Johnson showed us the way. We were inside the museum on Saturday. There was absolute silence among the most amazing paintings by world renowned artists.  Right in front of the elevator, Mrs. Johnson stopped and touched Dylan’s arm, subtly.  “Fifth floor. Room 21. It is all set up and ready for you Mr. Hamilton.” she said with a big smile and waved us goodbye.

“Thank you so much for all your help!” Dylan said succinctly, nodded with his head and returned her smile.

“Is she really leaving us here, alone in the museum among these valuable paintings?”

“Yes!” He said with a grin and gave me the same look when I asked about our seating in the opera house.

“What is going on Dylan? What is ready? How did you arrange all of this?” I demanded him to tell me as the elevator ascended slowly to the fifth floor. He just kept his blazing eyes on me without uttering a word. His hands were on the small of my back, caressing my skin gently, sending shivers down my spine with his each contact.