Chronicles of a Lincoln Park Fashionista (22 page)

Chapter 24

As soon as the captain has turned off the fasten seatbelts sign and the door to the jet craft is opened at the gate at JFK, I resist the urge to jump up from my seat at the back of the plane, push my way down the aisle, and run off the 757 and into the terminal.

I drum my fingers anxiously on my armrest while other passengers try to pry bags out of overhead bins that never should have been put there in the first place. It slows everyone down.

And I would be able to get off this plane—and get to Deke—a whole lot faster.

My heart throbs in nervousness as I think of him. I check my watch for like the zillionth time, noting that it’s almost 1:30 PM. Zach told me in the afternoon, Deke would be shooting at Gate 27 in the Premier Airlines terminal.

I swallow hard as thoughts swirl through my head. I think of just how much my life has changed in a month. Because a month ago, my worst nightmare would be taking a flight by myself.

But now flying is nothing compared with the fear of losing Deke.

But I’m not going to lose him
, I think determinedly.
I’ve gotten on this airplane, flown to New York City, and I’m not coming back unless Deke is coming back with me.

I notice the people in front of me are finally exiting the airplane. I grab my purse and get up, quickly moving down the aisle. My chest draws tight. My palms are sweating. I swallow hard as I enter the terminal, trying to get my bearings and figure out which way I need to go to get to Deke.

I look up at the terminal signage and follow the way to Gate 27. My heart is now pounding so loudly that I can barely hear anything else. I move through the passengers in the terminal, dodging their wheeled luggage bags, walking as fast as I can without running.

Where is he? My eyes strain to see through the throng of people, desperate to find him. Gate 27 is drawing closer and closer. But I still can’t see him. Panic suddenly strikes me. What if there’s been a change? What if they’ve moved him somewhere else? How am I going to find him then? My cell phone is dead since I forgot to charge it last night, so I can’t message Deke that I’m here. Oh God. If I don’t see him today, I will
die
. I think I really will die if—

Then I stop dead in my tracks. Passengers are just starting to trickle into Gate 27 for the flight to Amsterdam, but there’s only one person I see.

Deke has his back to me. He’s wearing another faded T-shirt and cargo shorts. His camera is in the case by his feet, and he’s drinking some bottled water.

I breathe deeply, gazing at the man I’ve fallen in love with. I love his vintage T-shirts and cargo shorts and every unique thing that makes him who he is.

I gather up all my courage and move toward him. I stop behind Deke and swallow hard before speaking.

“Dear Emily,” I say firmly, “I have a problem, and I don’t know to solve it.”

Deke whips around the second he hears my voice. And when he sees me, a totally stunned expression appears on his handsome face.

“Avery!” he gasps. “Avery what . . . what are you doing—”

“Dear Emily,” I repeat again, staring deeply into his eyes, “I have a problem, and I don’t know how to solve it. I have hurt someone I care about very badly, but he doesn’t know the whole story. He overheard a conversation, but he heard it out of context.”

Deke stares at me in shock, his eyes searching mine in confusion.

I take a breath and continue to speak from my heart.

“When I came back from my trip to San Francisco, I was the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. I’ve finally figured out that I don’t need to do what I’m ‘supposed’ to do, but rather what I want and need to do. I have a new career with Premier Airlines. I’ve tackled my deepest fear, the one of getting on an airplane and flying. And most of all, I met a man who has changed everything in my life.”

I watch as Deke swallows. My own throat grows tight, and I swallow too, pushing the lump down so I can keep speaking.

“He’s the most fascinating person I’ve ever known,” I say. “He’s wise beyond his years, understands the human heart, and has compassion for people he barely knows. He wears vintage T-shirts that express his personality, he’s fascinated with other cultures, and he pushes people to be the best they can be.”

I take a breath before continuing. “Emily, I adore this man,” I say, my voice growing very wobbly, “and he’s changed my life for the better. When I came home from San Francisco, I was glowing. And I told my friends it was because I was in love with him.”

I notice Deke’s eyes have filled with tears, and mine do, too.

“They were confused, as all they had heard up until now was all the things I had
thought
I knew about him, in the beginning,” I say, feeling an embarrassed blush climb up my cheeks. “And I’ve never been so wrong about anyone in my life. I love him, Emily. But I don’t know if he can lower his guard and let me back into his life. I’m begging for that chance. That chance to prove I’m not like the other women in his life. I’m not disappointed in him.
I love him
. Yes, we’ll fight sometimes, but that’s okay because we belong together. But how do I get another chance? Please help me. Signed, Heartbroken Fashionista in Lincoln Park.”

I bite back the tears as I study Deke’s face. He’s silent for a moment, simply staring at me through his tear-filled eyes. He gently clears his throat and begins speaking.

“Dear Heartbroken Fashionista,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “The guy you are talking about threw up a wall because he couldn’t believe a woman like you would want to be in his life. When he overheard that conversation, it reaffirmed his deepest fears. But then he realized,” Deke says, continuing, “that he was the biggest jerk on earth and was about to lose the only thing that has ever really mattered to him.”

“W—What?” I gasp, confused.

“Dear Fashionista, you might want to try answering your cell phone. It might contain the answers you need to know. Sincerely, Emily.”

I stare at Deke, stunned. “What do you mean?”

“Did you even turn your cell phone on this morning?” Deke asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

I shake my head. “I forgot to charge it. The battery is dead.”

Deke takes out his phone and shows me that he called me twice this morning, and then showed me two text messages he sent me:

I’m so sorry. Forgive me.

I love you.

I gaze up at him, and my heart leaps with joy. He loves me, too! I’m about to jump into his arms and smother him with kisses when he begins speaking.

“I was an asshole,” Deke says quietly. “I knew deep down you wouldn’t have said those things about me now. I
know
that. I was just afraid that I really didn’t belong in your world. So I did what I do best. I pulled back to protect myself from the inevitable, from you breaking my heart. But you’ve changed me. Don’t you see that? I don’t want to pull back anymore. I knew it the second the airplane took off for New York this morning. All I could think about was coming home. To you.”

Okay, I did really well about not crying until now. Tears are suddenly slipping from my eyes, but I make no move to stop them.

Deke lifts his fingertips to my face and slowly brushes the tears away. “You say I changed you, but you changed me. Being in a relationship isn’t easy. It’s a lot of work. But I’m not afraid of it anymore. Not as long as I know you love me.”

“I do,” I manage to say. “I love you.”

“Good. Because I’m in love with you, too,” Deke says, caressing my face with his hand. He bends down and gives me a kiss on the lips, and my heart sings with joy.

He lifts his head from mine and smiles at me. “Sorry. I’m on the clock so I really can’t kiss you like I want to. But I still can’t believe you’re
here
. That you flew by yourself to see me.”

I nod excitedly. He takes one of my hands in his and squeezes it tightly.

“You have to know how much I love you if I’m willing to fly here.” I say. But then I fix my gaze upon him and give him a stern look. “And speaking of time clocks, Mr. Ryan, you need to give Zach this assignment back. You are my videographer, and you belong in Chicago. With me.”

Deke sighs heavily and squeezes my hand tighter. “I can’t be your shooter anymore. There’s no way I can shoot you objectively. I actually asked Zach to flip with me while we were still in San Francisco. I had been losing my objectivity, and I knew after that trip I couldn’t work on your story anymore. Not when I was a part of it.”

“Deacon, that’s crazy,” I say. “Did you or did you not shoot that horrible e-mail Sasha sent me during the presentation? And the way I couldn’t get my slides to show? Those were embarrassing, but you shot them anyway?”

“Yeah, but—”

I cut him off. “Let’s compromise. You go back to being my videographer. After a couple of weeks, if you really feel you can’t do it objectively, then you can switch assignments with someone else. But I know you are the only person that can tell my story.”

Deke smiles at me, and warmth radiates down my spine.

“All right, we’ll give it a shot. But if I decide to switch, then Zach is the only videographer I want on the job,” he declares.

I wrinkle my brow. “How come?”

“Because I know damn well he won’t hit on you,” Deke teases.

I laugh loudly. “Is that what you did? Hit on the subject?”

He grins wickedly at me. “No, but I was taken the second you entered the conference room on day one.”

“You were not!”

“I thought you were gorgeous,” he says, sexily lowering his voice.

“When did you know that you were crazy about me?” I ask, really wanting to know this.

“Easy,” Deke says quickly. “When we were at Starbucks.”

“Me, too,” I say honestly. “How did you know?”

“Because,” he says softly, “when I talked to you, I found myself thinking that I would give up my passport and all my travel abroad if it meant I could spend the rest of my life having conversations with this girl.”

“I felt the same way,” I say, my voice thick. Then I furrow my brow. “Except for giving up the travel part, because I’ve never traveled.”

“You will now,” Deke says firmly. “We’re going to travel the world. I promise you that.”

I nod excitedly.

“But if I want to stay employed, I need to go to work,” he says. “I’m scheduled to leave here later tonight, because the flights were full this afternoon.”

Hmmm. He has to work all afternoon, and we can’t fly back until this evening, leaving me plenty of time to—

“And if you go shopping, my fashionista, just remember that you have to pay the bills next month when they come in, okay?”

I giggle happily. “You totally read my mind. But I should check out the stores here in the terminal, you know. Just to make sure I’m not missing something.”

Deke grins at me. “Go ahead. You can meet me back here for dinner when I’m done.”

“That sounds fabulous,” I say happily. I stand up on my tiptoes and give him a quick kiss on the lips. “So, Deacon, do you think Dear Emily has one last piece of advice for me?”

“I think,” he says, kissing me again, “Dear Emily would tell Heartbroken Fashionista that her love life is going to work out just fine.”

I laugh and so does Deke. And as I gaze into his eyes, I know my theory about
supposed to
is dead on. My fabulous life was never
supposed
to be like this, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

And Craig Potanski was absolutely right, too.

Everything worked out exactly the way it should.

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