Destination D

by Lori Beard-Daily

  “That’s great. We need more doctors to care for children.”

  “Do you have kids?”

  “Four kids and twelve grandchildren,” he said proudly, flipping open the visor on the passenger’s side and pulling out a steady stream of pictures.

  “Wow!” Dee squealed in amazement. “You sure have a big family.”

  “Yes, and every single one of them are in and out of the pediatrician’s office on a regular basis,” he mused. Charles picked up his cellular phone and voice-activated Steven’s number. “Mr. Cushman, I’m stuck in the tunnel. It may be another thirty minutes before we get out of here—sure thing, sir, I will.”

  “So, what did he say?” Dee asked, wondering why it was so urgent that he contact Steven because he was in traffic.

  “He said that if it was more than a half hour, then just to take you straight down to The River Café in Brooklyn.”

  She stroked her camel hair sweater and black jeans and looked down at her casual boots and brown suede fringed jacket. “I’m not dressed for dinner.”

  “You don’t have to be dressed up to go in there. This is New York. People wear a little bit of everything. You’ll see. You look fine.”

  Dee glanced down at her watch. “Did he say why he wanted to go there so early?”

  He politely shook his head. “I’m just the driver, Ms. Mitchell.”

  Dee stared out her window and was happy that she did not have to get out in traffic every day. The traffic in Atlanta was bad, but at least she felt confident enough to drive in it. She could never drive in New York. It was just too packed.

  All of a sudden there was a break in the traffic and Charles took off like a sprinter just out of the blocks. “Finally!” Charles said, honking his horn in relief. The utility vehicle that had stalled had been moved over to the side of the street. “Well, it looks like you’ll make it on time to Mr. Cushman’s office after all,” he said as he continued uptown.

  Steven’s fiftieth floor office was well appointed and had a panoramic view of Manhattan. The office was filled with wall-to-wall mahogany paneling. No expense had been spared on the parquet floors, plush carpet, or elaborate chandeliers that sparkled from the domed ceilings, Dee decided. Steve was truly at the top of his game. He owned and ran one of the largest public relations firms in the country, Cummings and Associates.

  When Dee got off the elevator, the double glass doors opened to the grand marble foyer and the perky receptionist greeted her politely. “Good afternoon. May I help you?”

  “Yes, I’m Deir—I mean, Debra Mitchell, I’m here to see…”

  Before Dee could finish her sentence, the receptionist stood up and shook her hand. “Oh, hi! Let me take you back to his office.” She wore a black and white couture dress and matching leather pumps. Dee felt a little self-conscious as she looked down at her casual attire. “I’m Mildred, by the way. He’s been anticipating your arrival. How was your flight?”

  “On time,” Dee joked. She could count the times on one hand when her flights landed on time at LaGuardia.

  “That always helps,” Mildred interjected in a lively voice. “Come on, Steve’s office is right this way.” All eyes were on Dee as she followed Mildred past the cubicles. The office consisted primarily of women straining their necks to see who Steve’s new lucky lady was this time.

  Steve’s name was stenciled in gold on a black lacquered nameplate centered in the middle of his door. Mildred tapped on the door lightly, easing it wide enough to poke her head in. “Knock, knock.”

  “Hold on just a minute, Bruce. Mildred just walked in,” he said muting the phone.

  “Ms. Mitchell is here to see you, sir.”

  “Great! Mildred thanks for showing her back here,” he said raising his forefinger for her to give him a minute. “Hey, Bruce, we’ll see you later; that special guest I was talking about has just arrived.” He quickly hung up the phone, brushed his fingers through his hair, buttoned the top button of his shirt and adjusted his silk tie. He stood up in front of the large picture window, gave himself a quick once-over in the reflection, and then motioned for Mildred to let Dee in.

  “Come here!” Steve said, grabbing Dee around the waist and hoisting her in the air.

  “Steve! Put me down!” Dee giggled.

  He gently placed her back on the floor and turned around to lock the door. Dee looked suspiciously into his bright blue eyes. He stared at her for a few seconds before pulling her face close to his. He planted a kiss on her lips that left her feeling light-headed.

  “Wow!” That is certainly a warm welcome!”

  “Sorry about coming on so strong, but a guy can’t help it when you’re so irresistible. Here, have a seat next to me.” He pointed to the padded chairs in front of his desk gesturing for her to sit down. “So tell me. How are things going?”

  “Busy, very busy,” she answered vaguely, knowing where the conversation was headed.

  Steve heard the trace of trepidation in her voice. “You’re still going to graduate on time, right?”

  Dee’s eyes shifted toward the awards lining his shelves. “Yes, and I’m still interviewing with various hospitals. My, my, my, these are impressive.” She hopped off her chair and walked over to the awards, trying to change the subject. “Most Distinguished Public Relations Professional of the Year, Highest Ranking Revenue Achiever! You are the man, aren’t you, Mr. Cushman?”

  “It’s nothing,” he said, pulling a cigarette from his pocket.

  Dee turned her nose up in disgust. “Steve, I thought you gave up those nasty things!”

  “Oh, yeah, I forgot,” he winked teasingly, placing them back in his jacket pocket. “I’ve got a surprise for you later today. I’m glad you were able to stop by here first.”

  “Me, too. Although if I knew that I was meeting you at your job instead of your place, I would have spiffed up more,” she said, holding her hands out to display her clothing.

  “You look good to me.” He pulled her toward him again and placed his arms around her waist. “But you may want to spruce up a bit before the surprise that I have for you at The River Café.”

  “What’s going on there? Charles mentioned it to me on the way over here.”

  “Well now, if I tell you, it won’t be a surprise, now will it?”

  Dee looked at him suspiciously. “Okay. Do you want me to change here or are we going back to your place?”

  “Right here is fine with me,” he said, pointing to where she was standing and eyeing her as if she were a Cheshire cat.

  “Very funny, Steven. I think I’d rather get dressed in the ladies room down the hall.”

  “C’mon, I’ll walk you there,” he said, pretending to be disappointed. He took her hand and escorted her down the hallway. All eyes rose again above their cubes and Dee could hear faint whispers.

  “Damn, she’s gorgeous.”

  “Yeah, Steve certainly knows how to pick ‘em.”

  Dee smiled and shook her head, trying not to show her embarrassment as she walked past the men and into the bathroom. Steve entered one of the cubicles and politely interjected. “Next time could you guys at least wait until she’s passed before you start gossiping?”

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Cushman. It won’t happen again, sir,” said David, one of his favorite junior account executives. His face red from embarrassment, he rushed to get busy with the paperwork that was stacked on his desk. Steve knew he’d meant no harm, and turned his back to him so he wouldn’t see him grin.

  When Dee came out of the bathroom, she looked both stunning and chic. She’d pulled her hair back into a tight French braid and wore a fitted black knit dress with a low back and neckline. As she sauntered back down the hallway to Steve’s office, she glanced over at the two men who’d been talking about her earlier and decided to have a little fun with them.

  “Hi, I’m Debra.”

  David and Matthew seemed startled by her presence.

  “Hello, Debra, nice meeting you. I’m David and
this is my co-worker, Matthew,” he said, feeling a little awkward.

  “Hi,” Matthew replied with a sheepish grin.

  “So, what’s that I heard you say earlier about Steve knowing how to pick ‘em?”

  David’s face blushed red as a trick deck of hearts. “Um, that wasn’t Matthew. It was me. I just meant that all the other…”

  Dee raised an eyebrow. “Oh, please continue.”

  “I mean that he has some really nice ladies that come through…and…” At that moment it appeared to Dee that David wanted the floor to rise up and swallow him. He started fumbling with his bow tie, still trying to figure out what to do with his hands after he took them away from his mouth.

  “Hey, guys, how’s the research going on the Brooklyn account?” asked a young woman who seemed to appear from nowhere. She was sharp, poised, and very focused. She extended her hand to Dee. “Hi, there, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Nancy.”

  “I’m Debra.”

  Nancy scrutinized Dee’s appearance. Surely, she wasn’t the new account executive, coming dressed like she was going to an after-hours party. David and Matthew were waving frantically for her not to ask a smart-ass question. But they were too late. “Are you the new account executive?” Nancy said, as she eyed her up and down.

  “No. I’m dating Steve,” Dee said politely, waiting on her next remark while David and Matthew decided this was their cue to leave. It was all Dee could do to keep from bursting into laughter at the look on Nancy’s face.

  “Oh, I see. Great dress,” she said, trying to recover.

  “Thank you. Well, it was nice meeting you,” Dee said, turning to walk back to Steve’s office. She lightly knocked, and waited for him to answer.

  “Come on in.”

  “Ahem,” Dee said as she folded her arms across her breasts and watched him intently.

  “Oh, hold on just a second, Bruce,” he said. He quickly turned around his chair and held his hand over the receiver while his eyes traveled around her body. “You look delicious.”

  “And you need to tell Bruce goodbye.” Dee reached over his desk and walked her fingers over toward the phone’s button to hang up on his caller. He grabbed her hand before she could press it, sliding her index finger into his mouth and gently sucking it. Dee grinned and slid her finger out his mouth.

  “Bruce, I gotta run. I need to put out a fire here. Okay, we’ll see you then,” he said as he held onto her hand, taking the finger he’d had in his mouth and pressing it on the phone’s button.

  Dee looked innocently around the office. “Fire? I don’t see any fire.”

  “That’s just an industry term we use here when things are getting a little heated.” He walked around his desk and pulled Dee toward him. He kissed her tenderly on the forehead, making his way down to her lips before stepping back to take in her beauty. “C’mon, we better go.”

  Dee kissed him with her mouth open and pressed her body hard against his. “What’s the big hurry?” she said as she pulled his tie, forcing his face to come back toward hers.

  “Dr. Briscoe hates it when people are late,” he said between kisses.

  Dee kissed him some more. “Who’s Dr. Briscoe?”

  “Damn, I wasn’t supposed to tell you,” he said, pulling back again from her.

  Dee gently tugged on his tie again as he resisted. “Tell me what?”

  “No, that was my surprise! I can’t believe I let you use your feminine wiles to get it out of me,” he said jokingly. “C’mon, I’ll tell you more about it on our way to the restaurant.” He grabbed his suit jacket off the coat rack along with her luggage as they breezed down the corridor toward the front desk.

  “Have a good evening, Mr. Cushman, Ms. Mitchell,” Mildred said. Dee looked at her and smiled.

  “You have a nice one, too,” Steve said, bending down to look in his message box. He still had about fifteen messages that he had to return. “Anything urgent?”

  “Nothing that can’t wait until Monday. Now, go on and have a nice time!”

  “Okay, since you’re twisting my arm. C’mon, Debra, let’s go get us a couple of martinis,” he said as he placed his arm around her shoulders.

  “Drink one for me, too!” Mildred yelled back as they headed out the door.

  “Geez, Steve, slow down!” Dee grabbed her head as they went over a large pothole, thinking it would go through the fabric-covered roof of his BMW Z4 Roadster.

  “Ahhh, Deb, you’ll be fine. I’m sorry. That’s what I love about this car; it lets me zip in and out of traffic while everyone else just sits there.”

  “I see the thrill,” Dee snarled. Her nails gripped the dashboard until they came to a stoplight.

  “All right…all right. I’ll take her down a notch or two. I don’t want you to be all frazzled when we get there.”

  “Well, thank you.” Dee felt relieved when the car slowed to thirty miles an hour until they entered the restaurant’s parking lot.

  “Good evening. Welcome to The River Café,” the well-groomed valet said, as he walked over to the passenger side to open Dee’s door.

  “Thank you,” Dee said accepting his hand as she got out of the car. Dusk made the city lights sparkle. Her eyes danced at the sweeping views of the New York skyline. “This is so pretty.”

  “I know. It’s hard to believe that we are nestled right under the Brooklyn Bridge,” Steve chuckled as he looked down at his watch. “We’re a little early. Do you want to go to the bar and have a cocktail before dinner?”

  “Sure, why not?” Dee followed the hostess to the Terrace Room. The bar area was filled and conversations flowed around the room. There was a mix of business attire and evening clothes. Yes, it’s true; anything goes in New York, Dee thought as she listened to the soft piano music playing in the background while they ordered their drinks.

  “I’ll have a glass of chardonnay,” Dee said to the bartender.

  “And you, sir?”

  “I’ll take a martini, served very chilled with no olive, please.”

  “What’s a martini without an olive?”

  “I hate olives. I thought I told you that,” he said pulling his chair closer and leaning in to whisper in her ear. “I’m so glad you were able to take some time off and come and visit me.” He brushed a few strands of wind-blown hair out of her eyes and kissed her forehead. “Now I can see you better my dear.”

  “Me too,” she giggled as the bartender placed their drinks down in front of them. Steve slipped her a one hundred-dollar bill.

  “Keep the change. We’ll each have one more after these,” Steve said, not looking at the bartender, but keeping his eyes focused on Dee.

  “Thank you, sir.” The bartender rang up their order and placed her hefty tip in her pocket.

  Dee circled her finger around the brim of her wine glass and looked at him thoughtfully. “So, tell me about this important Dr. Briscoe, Miscoe,” she laughed. “Why am I meeting him?”

  Steve took a long sip of his martini and slid his arm delicately around her shoulder. “Okay, I guess I’m just going to have to tell you since you obviously don’t want me to surprise you, judging from all of your questions. Dr. Bruce Briscoe is who I was talking to earlier when you tried to hang up on him,” he said, playfully scolding her. “He, my gorgeous lady, is the chief of pediatrics for one of the most prominent hospitals in Atlanta. He also happens to be one of my clients, and he was very impressed with how we publicized the opening of his new children’s wing at the hospital. And he said if I ever needed anything to give him a call. And since you’re studying to be a pediatrician, I thought I would introduce you to him in the hopes that he would assist you in choosing a residency program.” Steve lifted his glass and clinked it against hers, glancing toward the doorway. “As a matter of fact, speaking of the good doctor, here he is now,” Steve said, waving him over.

  Dee’s face looked as if she had been smacked hard by a block of ice. It lost all of its coloring and her hands shook uncontrollably.
Before she knew it, Dr. Briscoe had made his way to the table and Dee was trapped like an unarmed soldier in an ambush.

  Decompression

  (The Next Day)

  The living room was dark except for the illumination of the streetlights filtering in through the Venetian blinds. A pint of Haagen-Dazs chocolate ice cream sat on the coffee table, and a lumpy blanket rocked back and forth. Dee was underneath it, sobbing uncontrollably, while pulling its frayed edges up over her head. The front door opened and a flash of light hovered above her head as she continued to cry harder.

  “Dee! Are you here? Girl, I’ve got some great news! I wo—” Pam stopped before Dee could answer. She dropped her purse at the top of stairs and rushed toward her. “Dee, what the…Dee, is that you? Are you all right?” She forced the covers out of Dee’s hand and saw her best friend looking as if she had been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Her tear marks were black from streaks of mascara that had been running down her cheeks, and her hair was so matted to her face that traces of her lipstick were stuck between strands of hair.

  Dee looked up at Pam and immediately turned away and began wiping her tears. “Hey, girl,” she said quietly. “Excuse me for a minute, will you? I’ll be right back,” she said as she grabbed the container of ice cream. She choked back her tears.

  Pam followed Dee to her room and stood in the doorway. “What’s going on?”

  Dee shook her head silently as Pam hugged her and stared down at Dee’s hands. “Dee, what happened to your fingers?”

  “It’s nothing,” Dee said barely above a whisper as she sat on the bed. She looked down at her hands and folded them between her legs. Embarrassed, she turned her head and moved away from Pam.

  “What do you mean nothing? Look at your hand!”

  “I was at a restaurant last night in New York and accidentally broke a wine glass that I held too tightly, okay? A friend of mine took me to the hospital and the doctor bandaged my fingers.”

  Pam peered down at her hand. “Geez, Dee, did you have to get stitches?”

  “No, fortunately. I can’t talk about this anymore, okay?”

  “Why not? You talk to me about everything.”