by Lund, S. E.
"Of course," I said. "I know that better than anyone. But she knows…"
"Look," Drake said and took hold of my shoulders. " That was a couple of years ago, before my father died. I've moved on. She's moved on and so there's nothing to be concerned about."
"It sounds like she came back to study with you."
"She came back to study with Michael. He's the one who specializes in pediatrics. Let's forget about her and what happened and enjoy ourselves."
"I'm sorry." I held up my hand and forced a smile, swallowing my jealousy, trying to be a grownup about it. "You don't have to say anything more. I was surprised, that's all."
He shook his head. "You have nothing to worry about. Like I said it was just sex. Plain old vanilla sex out of convenience."
He bent down and kissed me again and despite everything, a sense of gloom settled over me. He'd be working with a woman he had once been sexually involved with. I couldn't imagine that it would be a good thing that Drake would be her teacher but I had to trust him. He loved me...
We went out to join Claire and Michael.
The drive to the college was an event in itself.
"Hang on," Michael said, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "This could be extra fun."
Drake took my hand and smiled. "You haven't lived until you've survived driving in Nairobi."
"Oh, God," I said, biting my bottom lip. I glanced out the window at the cars beside us. "I'm used to Manhattan traffic."
"Don't worry." Claire turned to face us from the front seat. "Michael's an expert. He's been driving in Nairobi most of his life and took his driver's license here so he knows the roads, the traffic and how to deal with the idiots."
I nodded, my body tense. Around us, the traffic was heavy, the other drivers variously hooting, honking and flashing their lights at us and everyone else on the road, overtaking our Mercedes on the roundabouts, and generally making rude gestures at each other. It felt like we were in a video game. I doubted anyone obeyed the rules of the road, such as they were.
We arrived at the Aga Khan University Medical College faculty club where the mixer was being held. When we arrived, the party was in full-swing, with a dozen or so bright faced medical students standing around with drinks in hand. The students were of all nationalities and cultures, some dressed in traditional costumes, bright and colorful, or typical European clothing off the rack.
Drake had changed into his deep grey suit, white shirt and black tie. His hair was freshly washed and was a bit wild, long below his collar. Although his eyes were bleary, he looked amazing, as usual – as if he stepped out of a GQ cover shoot instead of having arrived at the hotel an hour earlier, following fifteen hours of international flights. A few days worth of scruff covered his oh-so-square jaw.
Heads turned when we walked in the room, and I could see a few of the female students raise their eyebrows when they saw him arrive with Michael. Yes, he was that good looking. He made women's heart race. I knew it, having been with him enough in public to detect the subtle change when he walked into a room. He was gorgeous.
I felt a twinge of pride surge through me at the thought that he was mine – but he was also theirs. He would be their instructor for the semester. I knew I shouldn't be jealous – Drake was a serial monogamist, as he said himself. Still, these young women were in his field. They shared a passion for medicine. A few of them were stunning.
But he picked me. He asked me to marry him. I kicked myself mentally for being so insecure and made a promise to myself that I would not be jealous.
We walked up to a group of students, and Michael introduced us. One by one, Michael led Drake to the individual students, and he spoke with each one, shaking their hands, listening to them introduce themselves, talk about where they were from and what their interests were.
Claire took my arm and led me over to a table with assorted canapés and glasses of wine. I stood with Claire and, together, we sipped our wine and watched Michael and Drake work their way through the various groups.
"Drake really loves to teach, doesn’t he?" Claire said to me as we watched Drake speaking to a group of students.
"He does."
Just then, the students all laughed at something Drake said and I wondered which one was Samantha Cuttington. I was curious to see which of the students Drake been involved with, which one he had sex with.
Stupid. I had to stop beating myself up like that, but it was hard, knowing that one of those women had been with him before me. This 'Sam' woman shared something with him that I never would. She was a physician. These students would be spending long hours with Drake doing what he loved the most – surgery.
The more I watched how the women responded to Drake, smiling, blushing, the more I felt like I was on the sidelines of Drake's life. Surgery and teaching were at its center.
"Get used to it," Claire said to me, one hand on my arm. She must have sensed my unease.
"To what?" I said, turning to her, smiling, trying to sound unconcerned.
"Being second fiddle. Surgeons can't help it, Kate. Surgery is such an exacting specialty, and neurosurgery, especially pediatric neurosurgery, is even more demanding. It requires so much of their time and energy. I hope you don't mind my being so forward, but if I were you, I'd get as busy as you can as soon as you can, so you don’t miss him too much. Drake said you're an artist. Take a class. I bet you could register for an open studio course through the fine arts institute this week and start right away. You'd meet other students that way."
"The arts institute?"
"The Nairobi Institute for Fine Art. It's a fine arts college. It's where you want to go if you want to be around artists. Every semester, a few faculty members teach open studio art classes and you might be able to get into one even if you don't register for a program. I'm on the board and do some volunteer work so I could probably take you there, introduce you."
I watched as a couple of female medical students whispered to each other, their eyes widening meaningfully as they watched Drake.
"I would like to take an art class." I swallowed my jealousy once more and pasted on a fake smile when I turned to Claire. "Drake told me he'd be really busy. I've been spoiled, having him all to myself for the past few months. You’re right. I'll need to take a class to occupy my time or I'll feel really neglected."
"He won't be neglecting you," Claire said. "This is what it's like, being with a physician, especially a surgeon. You learn to adjust or it won’t work out. Find your own passion and pursue it. You're a painter. The Nairobi Art Institute is connected to the artist collective. We could see if we can find you a space so you can get busy and meet some of your fellow artists. There are a few expats here so you might even make a few friends."
I nodded and forced another smile, surprised that she felt so able to offer me advice when we'd only met. I watched Drake and Michael as they continued to move around the room, greeting different groups of students. Claire and I were all but invisible. I had a feeling the entire evening would be that way.
A while later, I slipped out of the main reception area to find the washroom. I went into a stall and after a moment, I heard the door open and other people entered. Two separate voices.
"God, he's so gorgeous," came one voice. "Is he taken?"
"He came with some woman but they're not married."
"I didn't see. Which one? What did she look like?"
"I don't know – shorter. Big tits. A mousy little thing. Not as attractive as he is, that's for sure. He could do much better."
"Oh, God," the other woman said. "I don't think I'll be able to concentrate during morning rounds."
"You think you got it hard," the other woman said and laughed ruefully. "I'll be working under him every day. It'll be torture."
"Under him?" They both laughed. "You had an affair when he was here before, right?"
"We did, but he's a bit of an Alpha male and I told him I had to be his equal and dumped him. He kept bothering me to stay together but
he was too controlling for me. Besides, he was technically my superior so we were risking it. But he is damn gorgeous. Too gorgeous to ignore."
"I know, right? He's far too handsome. Too bad he's taken."
"He's not married so…"
"You are so bad," the other woman replied and they laughed again. "I'm glad you talked me into coming here. I think it'll be fun."
"It's going to be very fun. He's really fun once you get a few shots of vodka into him."
A chill went through me. They had to be talking about Drake. That had to be Samantha. I leaned down as far as I could and looked under the door of my stall as the two women gossiped about Drake. I could make out two sets of shoes – one pair of tan sandals and the other black pumps. I heard water run, and the women laughed and then left the washroom together.
I finished and washed up, looking at myself in the mirror. Was I mousy? I was on the short side, my head coming up to Drake's shoulder unless I wore heels. My breasts were on the larger side. My hair was brown. I wasn't beautiful in the classic sense, but I wasn't ugly either, my features soft, young looking for my age.
But mousy?
She definitely sounded as if she wanted to try to rekindle their old relationship.
I felt like I could cry, my old insecurities about being so short resurfacing, wishing I had inherited my mother's stature, black hair and dark eyes, so at least I could call myself dark and sultry but instead, I looked like my father. Short. Brown hair. Nondescript hazel-green eyes.
I left the washroom feeling angry with myself. Those women were jealous – Sam was jealous that Drake was taken. She had her chance and turned him down.
I went back to the main reception area. From the table of canapés, I watched Drake and Michael. They seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely, although I did see Drake yawn once, hiding it behind a hand.
He turned away from the group and seemed to seek me out. When our eyes met, he raised his glass and smiled briefly. I knew he was very tired and probably could only think of going home, but he was dutiful and followed Michael around, speaking with this or that student, trying to look enthusiastic.
Claire joined me once more and we spoke about looking for a house, but the entire time I couldn't get Sam's words out of my mind. The term 'mousy' keep coming back to me. Then, I forced it out of my mind and tried to focus on the conversation with Claire.
I told her we'd be looking at houses and hoped to move in as soon as possible – maybe by mid-month. I was eager to get a home and make it mine.
"How do you manage, with Michael having such a full schedule?"
Claire turned to me. "I'm used to a crazy schedule but I gave up my practice when we had children. Now I work part-time at the hospital. The rest of the time, I work hard at making the most comfortable home I can for Michael and our kids. The two youngest are still with us, but the two oldest are off at college now. Frankly, I'm so busy with my own work, I barely notice Michael's gone. We fall into bed together at the end of a long day and the only thing we're thinking about is sleep. If you stay with Drake, I imagine that's the way it will be with you as well, once you have children."
If you stay with Drake…
I nodded, but in truth, I saw family as a long way off. I had to finish my Masters degree. Maybe get a job at a newspaper or magazine. I wanted to work on my art and see how far I could go with it. And I wanted to spend time with Drake, as a couple. Children, if and when we had them, would be a long way off.
I turned from Claire to the table of snacks and noticed Drake was standing with the two young women I'd seen earlier whispering together. Were those the two who came into the bathroom? Then I saw the woman's shoes – one had tan sandals and the other black pumps like the ones I’d seen in the washroom. Which one was Sam?
The two women stood with him off to the side and spoke, their faces and hands animated as they discussed something – I couldn't imagine what – robotic neurosurgery? Their backgrounds? His background? How I was far too mousy to be his fiancée?
I was beginning to feel like I should have stayed at the hotel and let Drake go by himself, for it was clear that neither Michael nor Drake were going to spend any of their time with us.
Claire came to me and took my arm, pulling me over to the bar.
"You look bored. Have another glass of wine, Kate. Have some of these delicious appetizers."
I followed her for a moment but continued to watch as Drake spoke to the two women. They all laughed together and then the woman with the black pumps leaned closer and touched Drake on the arm. At that, my body tensed. That had to be Samantha Cuttington. She was everything I wasn't – tall, blonde, beautiful. An amazon. Not mousy, in other words.
"I think I'm going to go and speak with Drake," I said, but Claire grabbed my arm.
"Oh, let him speak with his students," she said. "They're all so eager to meet him and talk to him about their work and their classes."
I stopped for a minute and considered. I didn't want to intrude but one of those women was Sam. I wanted to meet the woman Drake once slept with.
"I'll be quick," I said and left Claire standing by the table of canapés.
I walked over to where Drake stood with the two women. One of them – the tall blonde with ice blue eyes – saw me coming and stood a little straighter.
Drake saw me next and smiled. "And here she is," he said, holding his arm out to me. I stepped into his embrace, and felt a thrill when he pulled me closer and kissed me on the mouth. I was glad that he was willing to show me affection in front of everyone and couldn’t help but smile inwardly when I saw the tall blonde's response. She smiled, her smile tight-lipped as if it was forced.
"Kate, may I introduce Sam Cuttington and Camille …" he hesitated and turned to the woman with dark hair.
"Johannsen," Camille said, giving me a quick perfunctory smile.
"Camille Johannsen," Drake said. "I was telling Sam and Camille that you're an artist and won the Columbia School of Journalism Medal for your thesis work on Mangaize."
"Nice to meet you both." I smiled at each of them. I turned to Drake. "When you get a chance, can you come speak to me?"
"What is it?" Drake said, frowning.
"Nothing urgent," I said quickly. "When you get a moment." I smiled at the two women once more and kissed Drake again, standing on my tiptoes to do so. He slid his hand to the low of my back and held the kiss for a moment.
I left them standing there, and on my way back to Claire, had to wrack my brain for some reason to have Drake come by alone.
When I arrived back at the table, Claire was watching me.
"What was that about?" she said, her eyebrows raised.
"I wanted to remind Drake that I promised my father a quick Skype session so he knows we got in all right."
"Oh," Claire said and smiled quickly. "Have one of these." She pointed to a tray of some kind of hot appetizer a waiter placed on the table. "They're to die for." She picked the tray up and held it out as if to tempt me.
"Thank you," I said and took a canapé.
So, while Michael and Drake entertained the students with tales of their surgeries, Claire and I drank wine and ate canapés but at least I had made my presence known to Sam Cuttington. Drake hadn’t been shy – perhaps even welcomed the chance to show me off.
For the rest of the time, Claire kept me occupied, regaling me with little tidbits of information about the residents and faculty at the Medical College while Drake and Michael moved around the room. Her stories were amusing but I was tired and couldn't wait to get back to the hotel room. I sighed heavily and leaned back, sipping my wine. Soon, we'd leave and he'd be all mine once more. I couldn't let myself get jealous so fast. It wasn't Drake's fault that he was so good looking.
Drake was speaking to Sam, leaning against a couch, his arms crossed. Then, he stood up and led her over to Michael, who was busy speaking with a small group of students. Drake, Michael and Sam conferred amongst themselves for a moment and then Drake
left them and came over to where Claire and I were seated.
"Hey," he said and leaned down to kiss me on the cheek. "How are you two doing? Bored out of your minds?"
"Pretty much," I said, unable to keep an edge out of my voice. Sam glanced over at us expectantly.
"Sorry about that. Listen," he said and sat beside me, one arm around me on the back of the sofa, his thigh pressed against mine. He turned to Claire. "I hate to have to do this, but could you take Kate back to the hotel? Sam has a patient who came in this afternoon that she'd like us to check on. A motor vehicle accident, open skull fracture. Really unstable. Pediatric, so Michael's needed. Michael wants me to come as well."
I glanced at Drake, frowning. "Isn't that more for trauma surgeons to deal with?"
Drake shook his head. "They work on the rest of the body. We work on the brain. We'll check in and make sure everything's OK. Michael's on call this weekend, so…"
Claire stood up. "I'll leave the two of you alone. I'll go speak with Michael."
Drake stood when Claire did but then he sat back down beside me.
"I'm sorry to do this," he said. "I know you're tired."
My cheeks were burning, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. "She's beautiful, isn't she? She reminds me of Maureen. Definitely not a mousy little thing…"
"Mousy? Who's mousy?" He glanced at my glass of wine. "How many of those have you had?"
"Two, but who's counting?" I replied in a tone that sounded like a spoiled child. I tried to stop myself, but couldn't. Sam... Samantha's words kept returning to me – mousy...
He shook his head, smiling. Then he looked in my eyes, his blue ones twinkling.
"Ms. Bennet, I do believe you're tipsy." He reached to take my glass of wine away. "I think you've had enough."
"I decide if I've had enough," I said, cradling the glass against my body. "We're not Total Power Exchange, in case you forgot."
"How could I ever forget? I'm flattered that you're jealous, but Katie," he said, leaning in close, his breath warm on my neck, "you have no reason to be. It's you I want to ravish when I get back to the hotel tonight." His breath was warm on my neck and instantly, my body responded. "It's you I want to tie up and torture with pleasure."
