“Perrrrrfect,” Ivan purred back to her as he marveled at the display, which held one of his personal dreams, now ready to be unveiled.
“You are talking about the display, right?” She flirted shamelessly and arched her back, he noticed, to emphasize her ass.
“Maybe,” he countered as he walked past her toward his office. “What’s on the schedule?”
As he entered his office, he glanced out at the view for a moment. It never got old, and despite the turmoil of his final encounter with Jaden, it seemed more brilliant now. Life seemed more brilliant now since he’d given himself permission to step out from beneath the rain cloud of doubt and sadness. He’d spent six days now on a clear path forward, on a plan, and the world around him seemed more as it should be: beautiful. He slid behind his desk and started shuffling paperwork, waiting for Liz to follow.
After a moment she strolled in and shut the door behind her. “Your schedule has been crazy this week.”
“Tell me about it.”
“No, I mean really crazy. Thank God it’s Friday because I’ve never seen your bookings this stacked,” she said, scrolling through appointments on an iPad. “Doesn’t leave much time for…”
“Time for what?” Ivan watched Liz’s cheeks pink up.
“You know, a social life.”
“You mean a love life?” He smirked, which sent the pink flush into a full-on blush across her face and neck.
Despite her obvious embarrassment, she kept her eyes on him. “You know what they say about all work and no play…”
He laughed and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “I appreciate the concern, but a full schedule and work is what I need right now.”
“All righty then.” Liz turned her attention back to her iPad. “You ready?”
“Hit me.”
“First you have a ten-thirty with Gabriel, and next is an appointment with Mr. Parker. Then I wanted to ask you if I could add a one-thirty? Someone’s manager called and made an appointment for the VIP sexual health program, so I’m guessing a celebrity of sorts looking for better sex. Ah, aren’t we all?”
“Hmmm…” Ivan mused, his interest piqued. “Groovy. What’s the name?”
“Ira.”
“Never heard of him.” He shrugged. “Anything else?”
“Nope. That’s it.” Liz smiled and left him.
With a few minutes before his patient would arrive, he spun in his seat back to the view. Despite his sunnier outlook, memories of Jaden—her smell, her taste, her touch—flooded his senses whenever he gave himself a moment of down time. Their night together had been physical perfection, but he just couldn’t take the accompanying emotional roller coaster. But even though he’d eliminated the Jaden option from his future, he did miss her. And he’d second-guessed his decision to make a clean break more than once. If he were honest with himself, he hadn’t stepped fully out from under the dark cloud yet, but he was close. He just needed a bit more time and distraction to get there. And, as he reminded himself often, he was one hundred percent better than he’d been during the darkest days of being guided by the freak and his sexual addictions.
Still, he was grateful when Liz announced Gabriel’s arrival, and he had something else to occupy his mind. He transitioned from that appointment directly into his next one, then set to work on his PR blitz for the new line. He worked through a list of patients and media contacts, spreading the word and offering an introduction with a personal touch—his favorite way to do things. His mind wandered in and out of work mode and into dangerous Jaden territory from time to time, but there was nothing to be done. That stupid photo and story in the paper had sealed the deal, shown him what was happening with her in a way he hadn’t seen before. And now it wasn’t just Micky wanting to talk about Jaden all the time. He could feel people whispering about her, about them, everywhere he went.
But there were more calls to be made, and he didn’t even notice that he’d worked right through lunch until his computer beeped and the screen indicated that Liz had checked in his next patient. It was one fifteen and the medical assistant was currently sorting this Ira fellow out in the conference room.
He couldn’t help but smile as he was sure Liz was probably sitting in on the discussion. The girl loved her celebrities. Ah, to be twenty-five and a cute girl in Miami, he mused.
“Your patient is ready, doctor,” Liz chirped over the intercom on his desk. Unable to resist the chance to tease her, he asked, “Is he hot?” in a very effeminate voice.
There was silence for a few seconds, followed by giggling. “No doctor. He is not hot.”
Hmmm. That’s surprising. “Well, bring him on back, girl.”
“Yes, sir. I will bring him back in two minutes.”
Smartass. Ivan jumped up and shrugged on his crisp, embroidered doctor’s jacket and pulled his hair into a slick ponytail. He straightened his light blue button up shirt, leaving the top two buttons undone, and brushed his hands over his black slacks.
He returned to his seat and closed out his private email account, which still had several undeleted messages from Jaden. He’d have to deal with that later.
Knock-knock.
“Come on in!” he called, cracking his neck, as his dad told him never to do.
The door swept open, and a book that had been closed for years sprang open to a brand-new chapter. In an instant, Ivan’s mind, body, soul, and heart all crashed into each other at the cross streets of What The Fuck and Unfuckingbelievable.
Ira wasn’t a man…
The figure seemed to move in slow motion with her eyes trained on his—piercing him, cutting him, stabbing him, just as they’d done so long ago. He was paralyzed and captivated all at once, which was also a familiar feeling. Her eyes were a blue that sparkled like the sea off of a Caribbean island, and they twinkled. He saw himself reflected in their depths, but all he could do was swallow hard and hope he maintained a look of confidence. Inside he was trembling.
Her dark, chestnut brown hair hung in a short bob, skimming along a hard jawline. A low-cut graphic black T-shirt stretched taut across dewy olive skin, and black jeans hung from hips that swung deliciously as “Ira” moved closer and closer.
Her lips parted into the most adorable of smiles, showing just enough teeth to be inviting but not overbearing. She was ever the perfectly coached contestant. Eventually her perfume wafted over, reminding him of all their good times—the moments where life and love ran side by side and nothing else mattered. Roses mixed with hints of lemon…she hadn’t changed it.
Ira was indeed not a man. How could he not have not put two and two together? Ira had been a pet name for the girl who’d forced her way into his heart and then broken it, back in the enviable days when work played backup to raw emotion. It had been dumb love—the kind that makes you smile as it rips your heart from your chest. But it had been genuine. He had loved her. Irena Stang.
She had just walked through his door after more than three years, and it seemed she affected him in almost the same way she had when he first laid eyes on her.
Cautiously they came face to face, not saying a thing as they studied each other. Each seemed to wait for the other to make the first move. He looked into her eyes and watched them transition between hundreds of different shades of blue, each more brilliant than the next. And with that, he caved.
“Ira, eh? Well played, girl.”
“Well, I thought that if I scheduled using my real name you wouldn’t see me.” She smiled.
“Actually, I would have said yes and then called in sick.”
She burst into laughter, and he joined her, marveling at the peace that washed over him. For a long time he’d imagined this situation over and over—seeing her again—but then its hold on his imagination had subsided. And now that she stood before him, he just felt happy. He was happy with her effort and sneakiness at finding her way to him. As they wrapped their arms around each other, he felt yet another burden released from his body—one he’d suppr
essed for so long he’d forgotten it, but it had evidently been eating away at him for some time. He squeezed her back and reveled in having come full circle with her. Her presence no longer caused him pain.
When they retreated from their little moment, Ivan noticed Liz out of the corner of his eye. What was she still doing in the room? Sneaky little thing. “Um, we’re good, Liz. Thank you.”
She smiled and pulled the door shut behind her as she went.
“Have a seat.” He motioned to the chair in front of his desk and held it for her.
She smiled and sat down. He slid behind his desk, removing his jacket and, with it, all the formalities of doctor-patient relations.
“So…how are you?” she asked. “How’ve you been? What are you doing? I love this place, Ivan. It’s really beautiful.”
“Well, you know me,” he said, unsure quite where to begin. “Work and play always go hand and hand. This is my baby here, and we’re looking to expand this year into a few other markets. But nothing like the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous circles you run in, I’m sure…”
“Oh, stop. It’s been quite the ride from reading lines in my one-bedroom apartment, though.”
Ivan smiled and nodded.
“I want to know more about this place. All my friends are talking about it, and most of them are patients.”
Ivan shook his head and laughed. “Well, it’s luxury medicine at its finest. You can never go wrong with offering patients a better quality of life, especially at a premium and via an exclusive membership,” he added with a wink.
“And this sexual health—what do you call it? Orgasm augmentation? Where was this when we were together? I mean it was great, but every girl wants more!” She gave him a seductive smile.
Taken aback, he recovered by launching into his standard response. “More powerful and multiple orgasms are easy these days with the right partner and right medication.” He smiled and raised his chin. “I can set you up very, very well with the medications. The rest is up to you and your partner.”
He sat back in his chair and watched as she lowered her eyes, then looked up through her lashes. “Hmmph, a partner, you say?”
Immediately he recognized her look. It was the one that said naughty, impulsive thoughts were brewing.
Fool me twice…his conscience warned, and he refocused his attention. He needed to find out why she was really here. The more beautiful the rose, the sharper the thorn. And this thorn had cut him once before.
“So what brings you in today? A sexual health assessment? Really?”
“I’m not gonna lie. No—although it is very, very intriguing,” she said. “I wanted to see you. I’m starting a shoot here this month, and I’ll be here for a while, so I wanted to catch up. I’m scouting with the producers now, and I’ll be back in a week to start filming. I just wanted to see if we could go out for a drink or something to talk.”
“Hmm…” He paused for a moment, fighting an internal battle. But with his new sunny outlook, why not have a little fun? “Sounds good.”
“Okay, well, it’s a date then.” She stood and prepared herself to leave.
Date? Wow, wow, wow. What? Another traffic jam backed up in his brain. “What?”
“Not a date date, Papi—I mean Dr. Rusilko.” She giggled and shrugged. “Sorry, old habit.”
The name slammed smack into the ongoing clusterfuck in his muddy mind. He used to live and breathe for his “Goodnight, Papi” and “Good morning, Papi” on their long-distance Skype chats.
“Yes, force of habit.”
“Can I text you later this week so we can organize?”
“Yes, of course. Feel free to text anytime.” Slow down! his defenses screamed.
When she reached the door she stopped and turned to look at him. “Will you answer this time?”
A wave of awkwardness washed over him. He’d ignored many of her messages after their breakup. “Ahhhhh…”
“Ivan, I’m kidding.” She turned on the sexy smile. “It was so great seeing you, really. I’m looking forward to our date.”
“Me too,” Ivan said, studying her one more time before she disappeared.
She winked and leaned in for a hug that teetered on the edge of too long.
“Great,” she said, sneaking her tongue through her smile. He couldn’t help but watch her ass sway back and forth as she left.
He didn’t return to his desk, but instead wandered to the window and felt the epinephrine running through his veins. What the hell just happened?
Was he excited? He definitely felt lighter and was happy to say hello after so long, but to take her out? To talk? Did he want to do that? Did she deserve it after what she’d done?
He’d put all of this to rest—this part of life was finished, closed. But now it had been sling-shotted back to the surface, and he was at a loss. But it was a good loss, wasn’t it? What harm could come from talking to her? He’d made his decision about her. She couldn’t hurt him anymore.
Taking a deep breath, he turned to his desk and realized that position probably applied to another situation as well. He opened the program and finished his email to Jaden. He deleted several sentences that included the words can’t forgive and never and replaced them with:
Yes, Jaden, I would be happy to talk with you. Tomorrow at 2? Let’s meet at the point where the boardwalk meets the sand. Where the sea turtle watching is best. ;)
He hit send and within minutes received her reply. Folding his arms behind his head, he looked at the ceiling and smiled. It’s a date.
Chapter 22
“Insane”
A SOFT OCEAN BREEZE SWELLED around the rocks that lined the breakwater at the tip of the boardwalk. Jaden sat alone, just where the sand met the concrete, and watched tourists mill around the beach in front of her. Most wore vibrant man thongs or teeny string bikinis as they absorbed as much fun-in-the-sun as possible. To her left, a bit farther down the beach, a group of teens had picked up a soccer game, using garbage cans as goals and shoes as boundary markers.
With so much activity, this scarcely seemed like the same quiet, moonlit beach that had once played the setting to a magical night of turtle watching. Though it made her a little sad, it was fitting that this would now be the location of the first real conversation she and Ivan had had in six months. She pressed her hands against her hips and smiled when she found the tender bruises that lingered on her body from their night together. That had been communication of some sort, but without a clear message to guide the way forward. What now? Where to begin when they were face to face? She’d arrived an hour early so she could prepare and try to imagine how this talk would go. There must be a way she could make an honest confession and convince him to take another chance on her…
She wasn’t sure what to think. They’d had an amazing night of mind-bending sex, but then the damned photo of her and Damian had lit a fire of a different kind. He’d agreed to meet, but his email was so innocuous and detached—not terse or mean, but just nothing indicating how receptive he might be. Should she dive right into it all and tell him the whole story right away? Would he listen?
Did it matter? Was she going to try to change his mind? Was it worth it after his very straightforward message? Had he never really trusted her at all? Did she deserve someone who did—or who would at least be willing to listen and talk and try to work things out? Should she try to be just his friend and save what part of their relationship was left? Friendship. With Ivan. Always at her fingertips but never within reach and with no chance in hell he’d ever let her love him again. Unimaginable.
“Heads up!” a voice shouted as a soccer ball came whirling toward her like a black-and-white tornado. Ducking her head she let it whizz past, shooting a surprised look back at the kids.
“Sorry!” the same voice yelled again in a slightly embarrassed tone.
Just then the ball came whizzing back the other way and rolled to a stop in the sand at the players’ feet.
“Thanks, mi
ster!” With a final shout and wave, they were back to their game.
“Don’t mention it,” a voice hollered back, and Jaden froze.
It was still a half hour before he was supposed to be here. Had he come to contemplate the same things she had? A shadowed silhouette formed on the sand in front of her—a shadow with wild hair blowing in the breeze. The presence of someone who, even in shadow, made her heart skip a beat.
She turned and looked up at the man who stood behind her, his features darkened by the sunlight streaming around him. He wore sunglasses, and the wind plastered his white T-shirt to his body.
“Hello, Jaden.”
Her mind might have been too foggy to react, but her body took complete control. She shot up from the sand and wrapped her arms around his neck, embracing him as if he might run away. His scent tantalized her, inspiring memories of beautiful moments they’d spent together.
“Hi,” she managed to whisper as she released him.
“I see you beat me here.”
“Yes, I did, and you’re early.” She could feel the tears beginning to build.
“You know I’m always early.”
“I know, I know.” She gave him a shrug and a smile. “Some things never change.”
He sighed and turned to gaze out over the water.
She kicked at the sand, took an unsteady breath, and gave him time. When he finally looked back at her, his sunglasses hid whatever was brewing behind his eyes, but her stomach still flipped.
“Want to sit down?” He motioned to the sand.
She took in a deep breath and blew it out. “Okay.”
Offering his hand, he helped her sit. He took his place next to her but left enough distance between them to avoid any chance for misinterpretation. They each folded their arms under their knees and looked out into the Atlantic.
“So what’s new, babe? How are you?”
His question burned her ego and diluted their history all at once.
“Ivan.” Suddenly her strategy was clear. “Don’t do that to me. Don’t give me some facade like it’s all okay. I want you to talk to me without your bullshit, it’s-all-okay-because-I’m a-nice-guy act. Something is going on with us. We have a ton to talk about, and I’d like to do that.”
The Winemaker's Dinner: Dessert (The Winemaker's Feast) Page 11
