Note – I fiddled with the timeline a bit. It's late October.
The Right Girl 01
Nadine was shaking by the time Johnny and an armed guard dressed all in black ushered her into the Zacchara house, and it wasn't only from the frigid night temperature. He frowned down at her, noticing her pale complexion, and took hold of her wrist.
"Reivers?" He strode powerfully down the hall, looking left and right for the family butler. "Reivers!"
"Yes?" A tall, fair man with thinning dark hair and an impeccable suit stepped out of the library, but to Nadine, it seemed as if he appeared out of thin air. "Ah, young Master John. How may I help you?"
"This is Miss Nadine…"
She realized belatedly that she was supposed to speak. "Crowell."
"This is Miss Nadine Crowell," Johnny repeated, settling his hand exceedingly gently at the small of her back. "She's suffered a bit of a shock and she'll be staying at the house until I get some answers. See to it that she's served a hot meal and anything else she likes."
"Of course, sir," the man known as Reivers replied. He offered Nadine his arm, and she took it awkwardly. "Miss Crowell, please, let me show you to the parlor. You may relax there while I have our cook prepare something for you."
"I-I really couldn't eat anything," she got out, looking back and forth between Johnny, the armed guard, and this Reivers character. "Really, I'm fine. I just had some Chex Mix at the hospital, I'm all set."
"Chex Mix?" The butler looked over at his employer. "Sir?"
Johnny actually smirked, and for reasons she couldn't explain or even begin to comprehend, it irritated Nadine just a little. "Nothing, Reivers. Bits of pretzels, dried cereal, wheat crisps, that sort of thing."
The butler sniffed. "Yes, Miss, I can see how that might be…fashionable in terms of dining choice, but it's hardly sustenance. Cook is a culinary master, and we'll make sure she fixes you something heartier."
"Get her soup," Johnny suggested. "Chicken noodle soup. We have some left over, right?"
"Indeed, sir, I'll see to it immediately."
It was when he started to lead her away that Nadine dug her heels into the thick carpet. "Wait – you're leaving? If I have to stay here for my safety, shouldn't the same apply to you?"
Johnny arched a brow. "Yes, I'm leaving, and no, the same doesn't apply to me. I have to find out who was behind that attack."
Nadine gaped at him. The rumors were true: he was absolutely crazy. "But what if that's what they want you to do? What if they're waiting to finish the job? Ba-da-bing! All over your nice Ivy League suit!"
"Oh, Master John was educated at Oxford, my dear, not in any of the Ivy League universities here in the States," Reivers imparted sagely.
Johnny smirked in that particularly infuriating way of his. "She's quoting a movie. And she's being ridiculous."
Nadine scowled ferociously, and if she weren't so irritated, she would have noticed the guard behind Johnny smirking as well. "Ridiculous? I'm being ridiculous? Someone fired at us in a back alley – most likely because they wanted to kill you – and the first thing you're going to do is go right back out there? If you do it, you do it with a bull's eye on your back!"
He let out a snort and tipped his chin up, making a signal to his guard who quickly reached for the door. "Don't you know? I'm Johnny Zacchara. I've lived my whole life with a bull's eye on my back."
He stepped back and nodded at his butler. "Get her some warm clothes – her scrubs are soaked through. And make her eat something. She doesn't go home or anywhere else until I come back with some answers."
Reivers nodded and once again took Nadine's arm, a little more firmly this time. "Of course, sir. Miss Crowell? If you will come with me, please?"
She looked one last time over her shoulder as Johnny marched outside, followed immediately by two other armed guards that pulled the door securely shut. Swallowing roughly, Nadine managed a small smile for the well-meaning butler and let him lead her down the corridor.
----------------------------
"Is there anything else I can get you, Miss Crowell?"
"You can call me Nadine, like I've asked you to twenty times already," she replied sweetly, holding her cocoa between her palms to warm her hands.
Reivers gave her a smug look. "Anything else…Miss Crowell?"
That got a smile out of her and she shook her head. "You've been very kind despite my freak-outs. Thank you."
He nodded and was about to go when she stopped him.
"Er, Reivers?"
"Yes, Miss?"
Nadine pinched her lips together, her grip on her mug tightening. "When do you think I can go home?"
His gray eyes shone with sympathy. "Whenever young Master Zacchara returns and gives the order."
She nodded, dejected, and didn't even bother to smile for his benefit. "Thank you. I'll just, uh, be right here, then."
He smirked and bowed out of the room. "That you will, Miss Crowell."
Nadine waited until she heard the door click before she released a breath she didn't even know she had been holding. She set her mug down on the ornately carved coffee table only to abruptly pick it up and search frantically for a coaster. She couldn't ruin the furniture in the Zacchara mausoleum, after all.
But there were no coasters in sight and finally, she just took off her favorite white sweater, spread it flat on the table, and set her mug down on that. It was the sweater she always wore on top of her scrubs, one that her Aunt Rayleen knitted just for hers, and it had seen its fair share of stains from guava jelly in the morning to cough medicine served to her hacking, wheezing little patients, and a little cocoa on it was nothing to worry about.
She huddled back on the couch and curled her legs under her. The black sweat pants she wore were frayed at the bottom where the ankle elastic had been snipped out, and they were two inches too long for her. Still, she didn't bother to fold them up. Her t-shirt was soft and just a little fuzzy, and smelled a lot like the air before a storm. As far as hostage situations went, this one wasn't that bad: she had a tummy full of hot chicken soup and spicy cocoa, she had an entire library of DVDs in front of her, and a comfy, warm room all to herself.
Still, there was nothing she wanted more than to get out of the house of the crazy man that kidnapped her and chased her and Spinelli through Wyndemere just because she somewhat resembled Lulu Spencer.
She sighed and glanced at the massive grandfather clock in the corner. Half past midnight. She had to be at work at six tomorrow – if Johnny decided to let her go by then, of course. She could just imagine explaining her tardiness or altogether absence to Dr. Ford and Epiphany. She doubted they'd understand or be the least bit sympathetic when she pleaded 'mob difficulties.'
What was up with that Johnny kid, anyway? What was he thinking, going out right after what was probably an assassination attempt?
She hunkered down on the couch and reached for her hot cocoa, holding it close to her chest. She'd never understand that kind of logic. It was the same kind of stupidity that Lulu Spencer displayed at the ball when she went on that insane feminist rant of hers and said that they shouldn't sit in the barn like weak little women when the big, strong men were out protecting them. She had seen Elizabeth roll her eyes at that, too, and she'd never wanted to clock that girl in the head more than just then.
Nadine snorted. Johnny and Lulu were perfect for each other: they'd go out and get themselves killed all so that they could prove to each other how tough and strong they were.
As soon as the thought entered her head, she felt badly about it. She had no reason to criticize Johnny this way. It was his business what he did, and it wasn't as if she were some close friend of his to give him trusted counsel. He had been born into this business, unfortunately, and it was a safe bet to say that he knew it better than she did, and he knew how to conduct himself accordingly. The man saved her life, after all, and it was wrong of her to sit around his house and sulk and call him names.
It was very brave of him, actually. He had thrown her down on the snow and gravel and covered the entire length of her body with his, not that much of a hardship given how tall he was, but still. He pulled her up and along with him and made absolutely sure that she left the scene unharmed. And even now, he was protecting her by trusting her to remain in his house. She had seen him exhibit that kind of bravery on Spoon Island when he joined Jason and the other men in hunting down the killers and bringing the rest of the guests to safety. He was a strong and smart man, and the least she could do was not be a stupid and weak girl about the whole thing.
That was as easily said as done, because Nadine Crowell had never been a stupid or weak girl. That wasn't how her Aunt Rayleen had raised her, and that simply wasn't how she was going to act.
She hopped up off the couch and circled it, her drink still in her hands. She was going to make the most of this. That was what she was going to do. She was going to sit in the luxurious parlor in the massive Zacchara estate and she was going to be comfortable and unconcerned and entirely in her element. And when Johnny returned, he was going to find her perfectly composed and the picture of reason and sensibility, like always.
Besides, it was like her Aunt Rayleen used to say: a whistling woman and a crowing hen never come to a very good end.
(It had taken her three hours to figure out that what she meant by that was that it was important for Nadine and Jolene to just be themselves.)
"This is fine," she said aloud to no one in particular. "This is just fine. Half the people in this town have had near-brushes with death; I'm just joining the club."
Emboldened by that thought, she spun around nimbly on the balls of her feet and ended up colliding with an end table. The large, clunky jar perched on top of it teetered, tottered, and, as Nadine watched in horror, rolled off the edge and shattered on the floor sending bits of glass skittering everywhere.
She gingerly set down her cocoa, careful not to knock anything else over, and frowned at the mess. Great. She'd just destroyed what looked to be a valuable vase during her first – and hopefully, last – visit to the Zacchara house. Fabulous. She'd be buried alive in cement for this infraction.
"Leave the gun, take the cannolis," she grumbled, looking around for a wastebasket. She found one under the desk and brought it over, carefully lifting up the largest pieces of glass and depositing them inside.
There was still glass everywhere and worse, these were hardwood floors, meaning that the glass was literally everywhere. It had even gotten all into the solitary rug right by the couch where she was sitting, and she could see it glittering in the light. She supposed that she could call Reivers, the much-burdened butler at Zacchara Manor, but she didn't want anyone to see the proof of her clumsiness. She'd admit to it later on and make arrangements to pay for the damage she'd done, but right now all Nadine wanted to do was clean it up and preserve at least some of her dignity.
There were two small closets in the parlor but neither one had a broom or vacuum. Thinking that it couldn't hurt, Nadine grabbed her white sweater and headed out into the hall, hoping to find something to clean it all up with.
The first room she tried turned out to be a powder room about as big as her bedroom as a child. And while it sure smelled nice and featured many decorative soaps she'd probably be tempted to accidentally wash her hands with if she lived here, it didn't house a vacuum cleaner.
The next room she tried led into a corridor to the family's private office, and she knew better than to go in there. Someone was probably kissing a superior's ring in there or something. The next room turned out to be the entryway to the gigantic dining room, a room far too large to house the three current members of the Zacchara family.
Nadine sighed and kept walking. There had to be a damn closet with cleaning supplies around here somewhere. She looked over her shoulder, thinking she heard the sound of footsteps, and let out a relieved sigh when no one surfaced. Barely thinking about it, she grasped the next doorknob and turned.
The door was yanked open and Nadine found herself staring up at a tall woman with dark, dark hair, dressed head to toe in black and she found that she just couldn't help herself: she screamed.
And then, seeing the woman's eyes widen in surprise and realizing that, duh, this was a woman and not a ghoul, she laughed.
She was still laughing when the woman crossed her arms, having gotten over her initial surprise, and arched a perfectly plucked brow at her in an expression decidedly lacking in any and all humor. "Who are you supposed to be?"
"Oh." She stuck out her hand and immediately stopped laughing at herself. "Nadine Crowell. I'm a guest of Johnny's. Not by choice. Not that I'm charging him with kidnapping, I'm just…I'm Nadine Crowell."
The woman before her had to be the legendary Claudia Zacchara, the newest mob boss in town and Johnny's big sister, and she was looking down at Nadine like she was a bug stuck to the bottom of her shoe. "Why are you wearing my shirt?"
Nadine glanced down at the black, long-sleeved t-shirt Reivers had given her. "Oh, uh, your butler gave it to me. You can have it back if you want."
Claudia rolled her eyes and stepped past Nadine. "No, thanks. Keep it. I don't mind getting flashed by men, but I have to draw the line at chicks."
Nadine bit her lip as she watched the older woman walk away. "…Hey, do you know where I can find a broom and a vacuum cleaner around here?"
Claudia pointed to her left without even turning around. "Closet that way."
"Thanks!"
But Claudia had already vanished around the corner. Nadine stared after her and then, not wanting to waste any more time, hurried to retrieve the items.
---------------------------
"Oh, come on," she pleaded with the plastic monstrosity. "Now is not the time to be clogged. Why are you clogged? What have they been feeding you?"
She glanced at the specks of glass still embedded in the carpet. "Oh, yeah, right. Still, that's no excuse."
But the obstinate appliance refused to suction, and Nadine turned it off and flopped down onto the freshly swept hardwood floor next to it, laying it on its back so that she could have a look underneath.
"You're a lot of trouble for a vacuum cleaner," she murmured, testing the bristles and rollers. "I'm just going to have to dissect you, aren't I? Don't worry, I'll find out where your clog is, and then I'll put you to work."
She turned it over onto its side and twisted a hose that connected to the back, finally managing to pry it off. Sure enough, the inside compartment was clogged with fluff from the impossibly thick rugs.
"Dr. Livingston, I presume," she mumbled, digging out as much of it as she could with her fingers. "Ew…you're really stuffed up there."
Nadine dropped a wad of fluff and dust into the wastebasket and reached her fingers into the hole again, wiggling them around in an attempt to dig out more of the clog. "Tell you what, why don't I take you out for a steak dinner afterwards?"
"You always proposition your appliances like that?"
She twisted around awkwardly to find Claudia Zacchara leaning against the doorjamb and looking down at her in thinly-veiled disdain. "…When I have my hand stuck halfway inside of them, yes. I think not doing so would make me kind of a tease at that point."
Not a single muscle flinched in an involuntary smile. "Is there a reason you're scuffing up my floor and talking to my vacuum, which you've clearly just violated?"
She struggled to stand and dusted off her hands, sending a spray of dust into the air. "Well, I was sitting here in the parlor and I decided to get up and walk around and I kind of…" Nadine glanced at the end table where the unspeakable event had occurred. "…I kind of knocked over this giant brown glass vase thing, and it shattered and it went everywhere, and I just wanted to clean it up so that I wasn't inconveniencing anyone, but your vacuum got clogged and I stuck my hand inside it and then you came and…"
She wrung her hands together and let out a quick breath. "I am so sorry for breaking it, and I promise, I'll reimburse you for it."
Claudia shrugged, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Don't worry about it. Our family attorney decorated this room – the whole house, really – and that vase was his doing. I've been meaning to break it myself, but I've had other things to do."
She pushed herself away from the doorjamb with her shoulder and, giving Nadine one last look, turned on her heel. "By the way, if you want to accidentally set fire to the curtains, go for it."
Nadine watched Claudia saunter away and then dropped right back to the floor with a huff. There must have been something in the water: it seemed as though everyone in this house was just a little touched in the head.
----------------------------------
It was three in the morning by the time Johnny Zacchara returned, cold, wet, and empty-handed. Reivers opened the door for him and moved immediately to take his muddied jacket and help him remove his boots.
"Where is she?" Johnny wanted to know as he yanked his arms free of the sleeves and let his butler take the coat. "She's still here, right?"
"Of course, sir," he replied immediately. "The young lady is at present in the very parlor where I left her after your departure. Shall I bring her to you?"
He shook his head and headed down the hall to see for himself. "No, it's okay. She might be sleeping."
But when he cracked open the door, he found Nadine curled up on the couch with her iPod. She started when she saw him standing there and quickly hopped off the couch, yanking the buds from her ears. Johnny strode into the room, seeing no point in avoiding her now.
"You can go now," he informed her. "I'm sorry it's so late, but it couldn't be helped."
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
Johnny stared at her for a moment and finally shook his head. "Regrettably, no. Whoever did it was obviously trained for the job. There was nothing left other than shells. It's safe to say, though, that they were after me and that you just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. What were you doing there, anyway? Don't you know that the docks are dangerous at night?"
Nadine didn't particularly like his tone, but she let it slide. The man had a lot to deal with right now; after all, he'd almost died tonight. She could hardly expect him to be all sweetness and light. "One of my patients left the hospital and I was trying to find him. Nikolas Cassidine. You probably remember him-"
"-From the ball," Johnny finished. He slipped his hands into his pockets when she nodded. "Yeah. He's my girlfriend's older brother. He lost his fiancé that night."
Nadine nodded again. "He gets disoriented sometimes and leaves, and I was trying to find him."
Johnny glanced away. "I'm sorry you didn't get the chance to."
"But I did," she replied hurriedly, not liking the grim look in his eyes. "I found his hospital bracelet on the ground and called his brother."
Johnny's obsidian eyes glittered in recognition. "So that's why there were cops crawling all over the place. God damn…"
Nadine winced. "…Sorry about that."
He shook his head, looking almost amused. "Not your fault. It was hard to keep them from seeing me and my men, but, you wouldn't believe it – they didn't even figure out that there had been a shooting in that area."
Nadine allowed him a little smile. "Actually, I do believe it. And that's the sad part."
Johnny smirked back and they stood like that for a moment until he broke the silence. "Anyway, like I said, you can go now. I have no reason to think that anyone will come after you in the future, and I wanted to thank you for cooperating while I tried to see what I could find."
She scooped up her things and allowed the men to usher her down the hall and into the foyer. "Yeah, no problem. But I'm the one that should be thanking you. For saving my life, I mean."
He shook his head. "Don't mention it. Those bullets were meant for me, and when I saw you there, I knew it was my responsibility to keep you safe. That's all there is to it."
He cleared his throat and made a signal to one of his men. "Marco here will drive you home."
"Can he drive me to General Hospital instead?" she asked hesitantly. "It's just that my shift starts in about two hours so I might as well nap in the on-call room and then get to work."
Johnny's brows furrowed. "Weren't you just at the hospital shortly before the incident on the docks?"
"I stayed past the end of my shift," she explained. "I, uh, do that sometimes. So, is it okay?"
He nodded. "Yeah. He'll take you back to General Hospital."
"Thanks for everything," Nadine repeated as Reivers pulled open the door. "I, uh, broke a vase while I was here, totally on accident. I told your sister about it and told her I'd reimburse her, but she seemed more concerned about the fact that I was wearing her shirt."
Johnny smirked and remained where he was as his guard gently took her elbow. "Don't worry about it. And I couldn't give you any of my clothes – you'd never fit. I'm too big."
She smiled back and adjusted her purse, and Johnny lifted a single hand in a motionless wave. "Goodbye, Nadine."