Doctor Of My Dreams (BWWM Romance)

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Doctor Of My Dreams (BWWM Romance) Page 4

by Tasha Jones


  I chewed slowly and swallowed down the lump before I finally let go and I cried into my salad.

  An hour later, I dialed Richard’s number. The only reason he was the one I ended up calling was because I didn’t know anyone else. My friends were at the salon, Dianne had been pissed off with me since the hospital incident, and I had no one else other than that.

  “Are you busy?” I asked.

  “I’m not. I’m just sitting in my office doing paperwork.”

  I wondered if he told everyone that who called, or if I was special.

  “They fired me,” I said and I sobbed over the phone. I sounded pathetic. “Effective immediately. At least she’s going to give me money for one more month. But still. Effective immediately. What am I going to do?”

  “Why don’t you come to the hospital and see me? Then we can talk about it.”

  “I have to fetch Trevor at one,” I said.

  “So you still have a while. Come on.”

  I agreed and drove to St Mary's. I didn’t think I was going to ever drive to it again. The neighborhood made me feel uncomfortable, with huge mansions peeking at me from the hill behind the hospital and the expensive cars that surrounded me as I drove into the parking lot.

  I found Richard’s office with the directions he’d given me. His office door said Dr. R. N. Morgan. I knocked on the door and pushed it open when he called for me to come in.

  The office was big and luxurious, with a dark-brown wooden desk that was polished until I could see my reflection in it, and a lot of framed certificates against the wall that spelled out Richard’s academic life. There were also photos of him fishing on a boat in a place that looked tropical, a group photo with doctor-looking people holding whiskey tumblers, and two frames that were empty.

  Richard stood up and kissed me on my cheek. Butterflies fluttered in my tummy despite how miserable I felt. When he sat down behind his desk again, I took a seat opposite him.

  “Tell me what happened,” he said in a gentle voice that broke the dam, and I told him everything, from how I’d been fired to my worries about taking care of Trevor.

  “I’m sure you can just find another salon to work at?” He said after he’d heard me out. “You come across well, you’re comfortable with people, and...“

  “How do you know I’m comfortable with people?” I asked.

  “You’re comfortable with me.”

  “Maybe it’s just you,” I said and smiled tentatively. I wasn’t the type to flirt. I didn’t want him to think I was that kind of woman.

  “Maybe,” he said and smiled too, which made me feel like I unwound a little.

  “I can go and find a new job. There are more salons in town, although they’re usually quite full… the hairdressing market is a saturated one… but the fact is I just don’t feel like I have what it takes to slot in under someone else anymore,” I said. I sighed and I realized that the heavy feeling hadn’t been stress or worry or panic, as I’d thought at first. It had been despair. Going to another job just to settle into the same daily grind, and start all over again felt like a curse.

  “I just want to be able to spend a little time with Trevor. He deserves so much more than this life I’m giving him.”

  Richard shook his head. “You’re a great mom, Nadine. I see how you are with him. Kids don’t always understand that we do what we need to so they can have a good life, even if it means we have to hurt them. I’m a pediatrician. I should know.”

  I nodded. It was true. But what about all the time I couldn’t spend with him. What mattered more to a child, money or time?

  Richard stood up and walked around his desk, leaning against it on my side so he was closer. I stood up. I probably had to go. He put his hand on my hip, slowly, almost like he hadn’t wanted to scare me. I felt wanted and delicate. Beautiful. Something I hadn’t felt in a while. Richard stood up and kissed me.

  His lips were demanding. He wanted me, I could feel it like a power surge hanging in the air around us. My body bloomed and opened, and I could feel how much I wanted him too. He moved his feet wider apart and I stepped in between them. Both his hands were on my hips now, and he pulled me gentle against him.

  I felt short of breath. I touched his cheek, slid my hand around his neck, knotted my fingers in his hair. His hands slid up, moving towards my ribs, and then around. I took a deep breath, my breasts already anticipating the feel of his hands.

  Someone knocked on the door. I stepped away, feeling disheveled, and Richard rubbed his face with his hands.

  “What is it?” he called out.

  “A parent is asking for you,” a nurse’s voice called.

  “I have to go,” he said, looking as unhappy about it as I felt.

  “I have to go, too. We shouldn’t be doing this,” I said but even as I did, I couldn’t think of a good reason why not. I wanted to be doing this.

  “Why don’t we go out tomorrow night to take your mind off things? Dinner. At a nice place.”

  I wondered if this had to do with more money again, but his pupils were dilated, his lips slightly parted, and I wanted him to kiss me again. I wanted him to touch me. Everywhere. If that was how I felt, why should I say no?

  “I’d like that,” I finally said, because it was the truth.

  “Can I...“ he cut himself off. I looked up at him.

  “Can you what?”

  He looked shy when he tried again, and it was endearing to see someone so able look like he didn’t know what to do.

  “Can I call it a date this time?”

  I smiled and nodded.

  ***

  When I picked up Trevor, we were both quiet. I listened absently to the blaring radio.

  “You didn’t ask me what I was going to do at Dianne’s today,” he said when we were nearly home.

  “You’re right,” I said, switching off the computer. “That’s because we’re not going to Dianne’s today.”

  “Am I staying with someone else?”

  “I was thinking maybe you and I should spend the afternoon together.”

  “You mean you’re not going to work?” he asked, his little face lighting up. I smiled. That made it all worth it, in the end. Everything was better when my boy beamed at me like that.

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean.”

  He did a small little twirl with his hands where he interlinked his fingers. Something he must have picked up from a friend. I wondered if I’d missed weeks of it or if it was new. When he looked at me again, he nodded.

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said and looked out the window again, grinning.

  Chapter 6 - Richard

  “Are you sure you want to withdraw that much, sir?” my banker asked me and pushed his round glasses further up his nose. I raised my eyebrows. I stayed calm but I could be pretty intimidating if I wanted to. Most people with money were that way. You just didn’t accept that people respected you or liked you for your personality off the bat.

  “Are you suggesting I don’t know what to do with my money?” I asked him. He squirmed in his chair, looking like he was balancing on the edge of the seat instead of sitting in it properly. His hands were folded on top of the desk calendar between us.

  “It’s not that, Mr. Morgan. Of course not. It just doesn’t seem like the wisest thing to do. The money in this account is specifically for savings purposes.”

  “And who decides what I saved for is the right thing to spend it on?” I asked. “I want the money paid out.”

  “Of course, sir. I would just like to remind you that you employed me to...“

  “I employed you so that I didn’t have to stand in all the lines when I have enough money to buy a small country. I’ll do with my money what I want.” Saturdays were busy but if this man was going to be a pain in my ass, I was going to fire him and brave the lines anyway.

  He nodded, a quick gesture, and his fingers typed hard and insistent on the keyboard. This account needed a month’s notice be
fore it could pay out. But I wasn’t planning on waiting that long before I used the money. I was really just taking out a loan. A loan that I generously supplied myself. I could put the money back into my credit account when it paid out next month.

  When I finished with the bank, I got in my R8 and drove to Nadine’s house. I had the directions scribbled down on a napkin she’d shoved into my hands after she’d come to the office.

  “What’s this for?” I’d asked that day.

  “For you to come pick me up for our next date. My babysitter lives next door so it will be easy to drop him off before we leave.”

  She’d smiled at me and kissed me on the cheek, such a simple gesture but I could still conjure up the feel of her lips on my skin, hot and sweet.

  The neighborhood changed as I drove along, turning from a middle class neighborhood to an industrial area, and finally into another living area that looked run down and neglected. Many gates were rusted and neglected, and rubble lay in the streets. The trashcans on the curb were overflowing, trash spilling out of them like gossipers who couldn’t keep their secrets. Finally I pulled up to the house, the one with the green mailbox and no trashcans. Among the other houses it stuck out like a sore thumb, because it was neater and better taken care of. It was still plain there wasn’t a lot of money here, but it looked like the people living inside cared about who they were.

  I scribbled an amount on a check, folded it in half and slipped it into my breast pocket. I got out and let myself in through the white gate that led into the garden. The brick path that led to the gate was cracked but weed-free and the three steps in front of the door were swept and clean. I knocked on the door.

  I heard laughter from inside that I immediately recognized it to be Trevor’s. A moment later the door opened and Nadine stood in front of me. She wore a bright yellow shirt that accentuated her curves and made her skin glow. Her black braids hung loose over her shoulder, strands hanging in her face, and she wore a pair of faded jeans and no shoes.

  “Am I interrupting?” I asked.

  “Hi,” she said, looking around the neighborhood. “No, you’re not. I just wasn’t expecting company.” She looked over her shoulder deeper into the house. “I haven’t really cleaned the place up.”

  “If it's inconvenient, you can tell me...“ I started but she shook her head and stepped aside, pushing the door wider open.

  “Please, no. If you don’t mind the mess…” She spotted my car over my shoulder.

  “Is that yours?” she asked. I nodded, feeling silly. I hated flaunting my money. I hated that my red car looked so out of place in this place. A lot of people bragged with their money. I liked to keep it under wraps. It just got in the way, most of the time.

  “You came in a taxi to dinner,” she said.

  “I did…”

  “Why?”

  I shrugged. What was I going to say? Because I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable?

  “I didn’t want you think it was about money,” I said finally. She scrunched her nose in an adorable way and then nodded. I stepped into the house.

  Most homes had a smell. I supposed it was made up of the detergents and washing powder and perfumes of the inhabitants, combined with who they were as people. This house didn’t smell of anything but affection and happiness. It was an odd experience walking into her house.

  Her furniture was the most basic, looking like it had been bought from thrift shops or garage sales. Everything was weathered and worn with a silvery glow of the overused to it. But it felt more like home than any of my homes had ever felt like. And I always thought money was the most competent homemaker. I followed Nadine through to the lounge. Her hips swayed when she walked, and I had a perfect view of her ass. Her body curved like an hourglass and she moved with fluidity and grace. She carried her body like she was wearing a crown, and I could imagine what it would be like to trace it with my fingers, or my tongue.

  I looked up quickly, feeling like I was being inappropriate even though I knew she couldn’t know I was looking.

  Trevor sat on the floor with blocks and coloring books and crayons scattered around him. An archaic television in the corner was on, and it showed the flicking images of cartoons even though it looked too outdated to get any kind of cable.

  “Trevor and I were just trying to figure out what colors Dora the Explorers shoes were,” she said, pointing at the picture they’d obviously been coloring in. Half of it looked perfect, and the other half was scratched and scribbled.

  “It doesn’t look like Dora the Explorer is on TV at the moment,” I said. They were cute together. When Trevor heard my voice, it snapped his attention and he spun around.

  “Richard!” he cried out. “Come sit with us! We’re coloring.”

  “I see that, and you’re doing a great job,” I said, sitting down on the carpet.

  “You don’t have to sit on the floor,” Nadine said, but I shook my head.

  “I have to sit here so Trevor can show me, don’t I, Trevor.”

  “He really does, Mom,” Trevor said and shoved a blue crayon in my hand. “Here, you do her backpack.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know who Dora the Explorer is.”

  “Don’t they have her at the kid’s hospital?” he asked.

  I guessed they did. I didn’t know. I didn’t spend a lot of time knowing what children wanted from life. Just what their bodies needed.

  “It’s nice of you to swing by,” Nadine said, her eyes on the bit she had started coloring. “I’d like to think you were just in the area, but that seems a little crazy, considering.”

  I smiled. Yes, very crazy. But I couldn’t stay away from her.

  “Actually, I came here to bring you something,” I said, and took the folded check out of my pocket. I handed it to her. She unfolded it and frowned then she snapped it shut like it contained a secret.

  “What is this?” she asked. All the laughter had drained out of her face.

  “It’s a start. For your business. With that you can get it up and going.”

  She stood up and beckoned for me to go with her.

  “I can’t accept this,” she said when we stood in the kitchen. She leaned against the beige cabinets.

  “Why not? I know you’ll be able to make something great of yourself. A lot of people need a kickstart in life, Nadine. I can see the passion in your eyes, and that's all you need to be successful.”

  She kept quiet for a moment and it was impossible to read her. Her eyes were shuttered and her face expressionless.

  “Why are you doing this? First the hospital, then the dinner, and now this? Am I some kind of feel-good incentive for yourself so you don’t feel guilty about all your money?”

  I clenched my jaw. She kept saying that it was so I wouldn’t feel guilty. Did I have to feel guilty about my money? It wasn’t my fault that I was born into wealth any more than it was hers that she was born into poverty. “You were in my office yesterday complaining about your job. You can start your own shop now.”

  “I don’t even have my degree yet!”

  “So? It’s not like you’re going to have to produce papers to show someone. You’re going to be the boss. Don’t you think you can do it?”

  “That’s not the point,” she said, shaking her head. She looked down at the check again, holding it like it could burst into flame.

  “This is thirty thousand dollars.”

  “I know how much it is. I’m asking if you think you can do it.”

  “This isn’t about that. This is about the fact that you appeared out of nowhere, and suddenly you’re giving me all this money all the time. Why are you doing this?”

  I rolled my eyes. Why did it come down to this every time? Why did it matter?

  “Is it because you want to sleep with me?” she asked. I pulled up my eyebrows and stared at her.

  “Are you suggesting I’m trying to buy sex from you?” I asked.

  She shrugged without answering. I turned and walked t
oward the door. Suddenly her hand was on my arm.

  “Don’t leave,” she asked, her voice suddenly thin.

  “That’s not fair,” I said. “Do I look like the kind of person that would want to pay for sex? There are a lot of places I can go where girls will give that to me with a lot less attitude.”

  “Then what do you want?” she asked again.

  “You, dammit,” I said, louder than I intended. I took a deep breath, trying to get myself back under control. “I want you. I met you not even a week ago, but it feels like you’ve filtered through my whole life now. I’m just trying to help you so I can see more of you.”

  “So you don’t want to sleep with me?” she asked. I hesitated. I couldn’t exactly say no, because I wanted to. God, did I want to.

  “I don’t want to take advantage of you,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “But I’d be lying if I said no. You’re just… you turn me into someone I’d never known. Someone I like. Someone pure.”

  Her hand was still on my arm, but she slid it up to my shoulder and stepped closer. She had an expression on her face I didn’t know.

  “Thank you,” she said softly, and I didn’t know what she was thanking me for; the money, the honesty, the fact that I couldn’t say no to sleeping with her. She kissed me then, and it didn’t matter anymore. I kissed her back. She pushed her body against mine, her hips moving slowly and subtly, working me up.

  What was she doing? She confused the hell out of me. But if this was the kind of bliss that came with confusion, she could keep doing it. She stopped two seconds later, and looked at me with a look that spoke volumes, before she tugged at her shirt.

  “Do you want coffee?” she asked casually, like the cosmos hadn’t just shifted.

  “Sure,” I answered, because that meant she wanted me to stay.

  Chapter 7 - Nadine

  “I don’t know what time I’ll be home again to pick him up,” I said to Dianne when I dropped Trevor off just before six. Richard had left our house to get ready for the date he wanted to take me on.

 

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