Page 101 of 7 Days and 7 Nights
“Well I’m not Peter Pan,” quipped Matt as he leaned over and dumped the call.
Olivia just nodded her head and reminded herself to breathe.
Matt cleared his throat. “I’ve been running from my emotions since my brother died, Olivia. I didn’t want to feel that deeply about anyone again. But I feel that way about you.”
The words were simply put, and they pierced her to the core. She thought about what it had taken for Matt to mention his brother so publicly and realized just how great a hurdle he’d just jumped.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “That means a lot to me. But I’m not sure where that leaves us.”
“You’re the mental health professional. Isn’t there a handbook you can look this stuff up in?”
Olivia smiled. “Well, some sort of demonstration of your feelings would be helpful.”
Matt looked nonplussed for a moment. Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a little black book, presumably the one he’d threatened her with and put to such constant use in Chicago.
Barely flinching, he opened it and started ripping out the gilt-edged pages. He ripped them out two and then three at a time, littering the floor around them until all that was left was the leather binding, which he dropped in a nearby trash can.
“How’s that?”
“That’s... good.” Olivia found herself nodding her head, unsure how to continue, confounded by the utter Matt-ness of the demonstration.
Then he smiled, a sudden brightening that sent that damned dimple slicing through his cheek, and she couldn’t help smiling back.
“It’s the least I could do,” he said. “I mean, why play in the minors when you have a shot at going pro?”
He bent down then and kissed her, lightly. “I don’t have a lot of experience with real relationships, Livvy. But if you’re willing to walk me through it, I’m willing to give it a try.”
As declarations of love went, it was somewhat lacking in hearts and flowers, but Olivia knew a breakthrough when she heard one. Happiness, love, and, okay, it was definitely relief, flooded through her.
Reaching up, she pulled Matt’s mouth down to cover hers again. This time the kiss was deeper and definitely more thrilling and confirmed what Olivia had hoped: Matt Ransom might have left Never Land, but he still knew how to fly.
The sound of throat-clearing came from the control room and was followed by a tapping on the glass.
Registering the silence in her headphones for the first time, Olivia opened one eye to peek over Matt’s shoulder.
Diane stood in front of the audio board with a finger poised above it. While Olivia watched, her producer leaned forward and pushed a button on the console.
Smooching sound effects of the overdone cartoon variety went on the air and filled Olivia’s headphones.
Before Olivia could blink, Diane leaned over the board again. A heartbeat later, the opening strains of the “Hallelujah Chorus” drowned out the cartoon kisses.
Still lip-locked, but with both eyes wide open now, Olivia watched Diane adjust audio levels. Several long seconds of cartoon kisses and fervent hallelujahs followed.
Afraid that if she didn’t do something, her show was going to end with Porky Pig’s rendition of “That’s all, folks,” Olivia unlocked her lips from Matt’s and signaled Diane that she was ready to wrap things up. Leaning in to her microphone, she said with relish, “This is Dr. Olivia Moore, reminding you to get out there and live your life...live.” After a last thumbs-up to Diane, she concluded, “Which is exactly what I intend to do.”
When she was certain her microphone was off, Olivia removed her headphones and turned her full attention to Matt, who was still lounging casually against the table. Raising an expectant eyebrow, she waited for him to speak.
“So, are you ready to talk about moving to New York and arguing with each other for a living?” he asked.
“I still can’t believe they want to pay me that much money just to disagree with you.”
Matt smiled; they both seemed to be doing a ridiculous amount of that at the moment. “I knew that would be a major selling point,” he said.
She cocked her head to one side and studied the face of the man beside her. “Yeah, but there’s just one thing. What if we go ahead with this and one day we wake up and we’re so aligned that we can’t think of anything to argue about?”
They looked into each other’s eyes, looked away, and looked back again, their faces tight with barely suppressed laughter.
“You know," he said as he slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “I think we can start worrying about that right about the time world peace is declared.” He brought his lips down to brush against hers.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “Or when they go ahead and hold those Winter Olympics in Hell.