Never The Bride(47)

'Are we there yet?' I asked, trying to angle my head to see while struggling to breathe. I was so hot.

'You're here, miss. Good luck with the surprise,' he confirmed.

'I would shake your hand, but I'm not really in a position to. Thank you so much, Mr.  … ?'

'Thomas, just Thomas,' he chuckled.

'Then I'll let Miller know how kind you've been to me.'

'Miller?' he questioned. 'You're here to see Mr. Davis?'

'I am,' I confirmed.

'Are you Abbie Carter?'

'How did you know that?' I exclaimed. I'd thought my disguise was foolproof.

'Mr. Davis has only ever had one girlfriend, Miss Carter. We met briefly when he showed you around last year, though I'd never have recognised you in this.'

'No, I guess not,' I giggled.

'Well, let me sign you in and I'll escort you up to his office myself.'

'That's really good of you. Phew, is it always so hot in New York in June?' I asked, feeling perspiration gathering on my forehead while some trickled down the back of my neck.



       
         
       
        

'Yes, but dressing like that doesn't help,' he laughed. 'Mr. Davis really will be surprised, you're drawing quite a crowd down here.'

'Excellent,' I confirmed. That was the point. I was here to prove how much I loved him by making a total fool of myself, and so far it seemed to be going to plan.

'Ok, I'm not sure the lanyard will fit around your neck, so I'll just carry it for you,' he offered as he helped me to shuffle off again. I could just make out the turnstiles as we approached them and he advised me to walk forward. I did, but bounced straight back. I tried again, and the same thing happened. I could hear lots of chuckling around me.

'What's happening?' I asked Thomas.

'I think your hips are too big to go through. How about you turn sideways?' he suggested, taking my basket off me. I nodded and did as I was told and started to edge to my left. 'You need to suck in your stomach,' he advised when I seemed to get stuck.

'Ok,' I called, whacking my hands against it and straining to move to the left. 'Ha, I can feel the bar on my left thigh.'

'Great, keep going, it will spin and let you through.'

I kept shuffling, panting, and squeezing my way through the gap, then squealed as I felt my right leg being lifted up into the air. I froze, in some kind of arabesque ballet position, as a wave of laughter surrounded me.

'What's happening now?' I called, totally aware that I was currently reliant on this poor guy.

'You're too big to get through,' Thomas called from behind me.

'So what do we do? I'm pretty uncomfortable like this.'

'I can imagine. We either reverse the mechanism and pull you back out, or I get some of the guys to help me lift you up and carry you over. But they'll all need to come upstairs with me, because there's turnstiles to enter each floor as you exit the elevators.'

'Damn it,' I groaned. 'If you pull me back out, can you get Miller to come down to the lobby instead?' In fact, that would probably be even better than me seeing him in his office. This way he'd witness my public humiliation, he'd see how much of a fool I was prepared to make of myself in front of lots of his staff.

'I'm pretty sure I can,' he confirmed, then I heard the crackle of his walkie-talkie. 'Hey, Luciano, it's Thomas down in the lobby. We've got a lady stuck in turnstile four, can you back it up for me?  …  Yes  …  No, you aren't seeing things,' he chuckled. 'Yes, it is a pretty brightly colored outfit .... No, she's a VIP, here to see Mr. Davis. Great, thanks. Ok, Miss Carter, steady yourself,' he called. 

'Steadying,' I called back. Jesus, I was going to pass out in a minute. This was hotter than lying on the beach in Mexico. I breathed a sigh of relief as I heard a clunk and my right leg dropped to the floor, then I had to make another concerted effort to work my way back out of the narrow channel to return to the lobby.

'Right, I'll let him know you're here,' Thomas advised, putting my basket back over my arm.

'Can you  …  I know I'm asking a lot, but is there any way you can get him down here without him knowing it's me?'

'If he tries to fire me when he gets down, you'd better put in a good word for me,' Thomas warned.

'I promise, I'll tell him I made you do it,' I nodded.

'Please don't. I'm highly trained to deal with unwanted visitors, admitting that you forced me to do this would make me come off in a much worse light.'

'Thank you,' I stated sincerely as I heard him walk away. I turned to squint and saw him at the reception desk making a call. Then he returned a short while later. 'Ok?'

'He'll be down in a minute, but he didn't sound very happy that we weren't able to sort out the crisis I faked ourselves. Come on, let's move you back a bit, give people space to get in and out through security, ok?'

'Will you tell me when he's here? I'm having a lot of trouble seeing clearly. I'm so hot I'm sweating, and I think my mascara has run in my eyes too,' I huffed. What had I been thinking? All of a sudden I felt nervous and panicky. What if I really did come off as a complete fool, too big a fool for Miller to take me seriously? What if this made him walk away for good? I swallowed hard and tried to compose myself. We weren't together now. After this, we either would be or we'd be over for good. At least one way or the other I'd know and could stop torturing myself.

'He's here,' whispered Thomas, spinning me slightly.

'What's going on, Thomas?' came Miller's annoyed voice. 'I had to interrupt an important call for a  …  a  …  what the hell am I looking at?' he demanded, confusion saturating his tone.

Hardly surprising, really. I'd imagine that it wasn't every day that a CEO of a company was summoned down to his lobby, only to be faced with a giant yellow Winnie the Pooh bear, complete with a red "Pooh Bear" t-shirt, pudgy hands and feet, rotund stuffed stomach and bottom, and a life-like head with a pot of "Hunny" balanced on top of it. I could barely see anything through the mesh eyeholes and film of disintegrating mascara in my eyes, but I took a deep breath of hot recycled air and prepared myself to sing.





Elvis  –  Teddy Bear



I grimaced as I heard how out of key I was, and heard the laughter and chatter rising around me. Then I remembered some dance moves I'd practiced with Georgie, Daphne in tears of laughter as we'd come up with something not too taxing for someone in a costume like this. I got into my groove, tapping my large feet as I swayed, then doing a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree spin and shaking my plump stuffed backside at him. People starting cheering, egging me on as I screeched away, Elvis probably turning over in his grave as I slaughtered his short, sweet love song. I had no idea what Miller's reaction was, if he knew it was me inside this yellow suit, or if he was even still there as I finished and panted.

'I want to be your teddy bear, Miller. Will you be mine?' I called, then wobbled as someone turned me around, presumably Thomas, to make sure I was facing him.

'Abbie? Is that you?' Miller exclaimed, surprise and wonder in his voice. I nodded, then gasped in some fresh air as the head of my Pooh suit was lifted off me and another round of cheers came up from the crowd that was circling us.



       
         
       
        

'Hey,' I smiled as I saw Miller standing in front of me, his face a picture as he shoved the head into Thomas's arms.

'Hey,' he said warily, holding my gaze, his brown chocolate pools setting my tummy on a washing cycle of emotional spins. I couldn't believe how much I'd missed him. 'What are you doing here?'

'You said you wanted someone to make a fool out of themselves for you, so here I am, doing just that,' I announced, throwing my padded arms out to the side.

'I thought  …  I'm confused, Abbie. You made your feelings for me pretty clear when you walked away from me at Tracey's wedding, then left the country and ignored my calls,' he added quietly.

'I was shocked, hurt, and upset, so I ran, without my phone. I didn't get any of your messages until I came home. But I've had time to think, to decide what I want, and it's you, Miller. I want you. So badly that I'm even prepared to give up everything to move here to be with you.'

'You are?' His eyebrows raised in surprise as he put his hands on his hips, making me lick my lips. He looked so dashing in his three-piece tailored business suit. We must look like such an odd couple right now. The hardcore businessman and a sweaty, make-up-streaked padded bear.

'I am,' I said firmly, slowly dropping down to one knee on the floor and setting my basket to the side of me as people started to whisper in the background. I tried to throw back the red and white checked cloth covering the contents of the basket, but with my fake hands I couldn't, so I looked up to Thomas and gestured with my head to the cloth, which he quickly bent down to whisk away. I heard Miller take in a sharp breath through his teeth as he saw the contents. I'd baked six white chocolate chip cookies, his favourite, in the shape of hearts, then I'd written on them in red icing and carefully laid them in the basket in order. I felt myself tear up as I looked up and read to him out loud the words I'd written on them. I Love You, Marry Me Miller.

A collective gasp went up around us, but I didn't look away. I kept my eyes firmly on his, trying to read his expression as he stared down at me, his gorgeous eyes moist with emotion. I just wasn't sure what that emotion was right now. I probably looked a state, with sweaty Pooh helmet hair, running mascara, and a big fat yellow tummy. Was he embarrassed, was he mortified, was he touched, what?