It doesn’t matter where she is, and I definitely shouldn’t care.
But then she walks in. Her dress is royal blue and perfectly fitted to every curve of her gorgeous body. Her hips sway when she walks and I can see the curve of her tits through the stretchy fabric. My breath catches in my throat.
She looks around the room for a seat and her eyes finally rest on the only one that’s free. The one right beside me. Our eyes meet for a second before my heart starts pounding in my chest and I glance towards the front of the room again.
“Hey,” she whispers as she sits beside me. I ignore her. This is getting way too familiar.
I can feel the heat from her skin as her arm brushes up against me. She moves away slightly and I feel the space between us like she’s a million miles away from me. I want her to move closer to me, so I can feel her arm against mine.
She doesn’t.
She sits there, completely still, staring straight ahead. Her smell is intoxicating, just as it was this morning. I close my eyes and breath in deeply, slowly and silently so no one notices. How can one person smell so good!
Everyone settles into their chairs and then Doctor Yates walks in. My back stiffens and I try to hide my sharp intake of breath. He always has that effect on me, I can’t relax around him. I sense Emma turn her head slightly towards me and I try my best to relax. I can’t help it. His beady little eyes, his thick, wiry eyebrows. He walks around like he’s everyone’s grandpa but I’ve seen his true colours.
Yates stands at the front of the room and holds up a hand. The chatter in the room dies down as everyone turns toward him.
“Good morning everyone!” He pauses, waiting for the staggered chorus of Good Mornings to bounce back to him. I say nothing. Neither does Emma, and I glance over at her. She’s sitting still, with her hands folded over her lap. My eyes question her, and she turns her head slightly to meet my gaze. She’s unreadable. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears when she looks at me like that. As soon as she looks at me, she turns back to the front.
I do the same, waiting to hear what Yates has to say.
“First of all, I’d like to welcome the newest member of our team, Emma Thompson. Emma is joining us as our administrator. Please make her feel welcome.”
The room turns towards her and all of a sudden dozens of pairs of curious eyes are trained on her. I feel her body stiffen beside me and I long to put my arm around her, to comfort her.
I inhale sharply. No. That is completely inappropriate. Why would I think that?!
My thoughts drift away as Yates starts talking again. Every staff meeting is the same, just another excuse for him to peacock at the front of the room like that. I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. Emma’s perfume is tickling my nose and it’s taking all my self control to keep myself from breathing more deeply than I am. I glance over at her hands, folded on her lap. They look so soft and graceful. I’d love to lean over and pull her hand into mine.
“And Elliot, I think it should be you.” Yates’ voice drifts back into my reality. I snap my eyes forward and meet his hard gaze.
“Me, doctor?” I ask. All eyes are on me. I have no idea what he was talking about and now the entire room will know it. This is Emma’s fault! Why did she have to sit beside me. I can’t focus with her so close to me. I can’t wait to get out of this room. The walls are closing in on me, it feels too hot in here.
“Yes, you. You’re our lead surgeon and I think you’d be the best to represent us at the conference.”
The conference! Of course. The annual Aesthetics Conference is on this year in San Diego. It’s the most prestigious conference in the country, and we always send a speaker. But… me?! Doctor Yates goes every year. I clear my throat.
“I.. Thank you, Stuart.”
“Your work recently on rhinoplasties deserves to be showcased. You’re doing groundbreaking stuff, Elliot, and it should be advertised. We’ve been asked to prepare a 20 minute talk which you will deliver at the conference.”
His words filter into my brain and I struggle to keep my jaw from falling to the floor. A 20 minute talk?! At the most important plastic surgery conference in the country?! About my work?! My heart is beating out of my chest and this time it isn’t because of Emma’s curves.
“Stuart, I.. 20 minutes is a long time.”
Dr. Yates holds up a hand.
“Dr. Davis, you’ve been doing brilliant work. Put together a presentation before the end of the week for me to review. The conference is next week. Any other questions? Otherwise we can wrap this meeting up.”
No one says anything, and Yates nods before walking out of the room. I’m stuck to my chair. Public speaking! In front of a room full of successful doctors. With only a week to prepare. I can’t help but think that Yates has chosen me on purpose for some reason. My stomach drops down and I feel almost dizzy.
Then, I feel a small warm hand on my arm. It’s Emma. I glance towards her. Her brown eyes are kind, inviting. Her lips look so soft. She’s wearing that deep red lipstick again.
“Are you ok?” she whispers.
“I’m fine.” It comes out more gruffly than I’d anticipated, but it doesn’t matter. I pull my arm away and stand up, going around her chair to walk out of the room. She doesn’t move, and I know I was out of line. It doesn’t matter. Why does she have to be so nice to me all the time. Just leave me alone like everyone else does.
I stomp to my office and slam the door behind me. I slump into my chair, putting my head in my hand. My forearm is still burning where her fingers touched it. I could feel the slight pressure of her touch through my shirt, the heat of her skin against mine. I wonder what her skin feels like, what it would feel like to have my hands roam all over her body.
I take a deep breath. I have work to do. Now is definitely not the time to be distracted, especially when I need to prepare this stupid presentation on top of all my regular work.
Next time she tries that friendly bullshit I’m going to shut it down. It’s the only way. This has gone far enough already and I’ve only met her a day ago.
Chapter 8 - Emma
Well that was rude. It was fucking rude! He ripped his arm away and stormed out of the room like I’d just insulted his mother. I was just trying to be nice! The anger is bubbling in my veins, and once again my cheeks are burning. This time it isn’t embarrassment though, it’s white hot anger. Looks like my peace offering wasn’t received as well as I had hoped.
You know what? Whatever. His loss. I can be friendly and helpful, and it turns out I’m actually a whiz on PowerPoint. I’d have his presentation looking amazing but he’s on his own. I’m done trying to be his friend. No one else seems to talk to him, so why should I. No more coffees, no more hellos, no more small talk. I won’t even look at him.
Seems like that’s what he wants anyways. I’m doing us both a favour. His loss.
My fingertips feel like they’ve been burned. His forearm was strong and muscular. I looked over at him and saw the way his chest strained against his shirt, the way the thin fabric was perfectly moulded around his shoulders.
It’s always the good-looking ones that are the assholes.
I get up out of my chair and walk out of the conference room. My desk is still scattered with papers, and I stack them all impatiently. Patients will start arriving soon, so I need to get everything back in order.
I’m just putting the last of the files back on the shelf when I hear the front door open. Turning around to greet the incomer, I see a vision in white. She’s tall, blonde, and thin. Her white dress is moulded to her perfect body and she carries an expensive-looking white leather bag slung over her forearm. A beautiful, manicured hand reaches up to remove an oversized pair of sunglasses from her face.
“Good morning,” I start. “How can I - “
“I’m here to see Elliot,” she interrupts. I bristle slightly at the lack of manners but pull up the calendar on my computer.
/> “Can I get your name please?”
“Oh!” She laughs without humour and waves a hand as if she’s swatting a fly. “I don’t have an appointment.”
I look up. The smile is plastered on her face but her eyes are hard. “Just tell him Melodie is here.”
“I’m sorry ma’am, unless you have an appointment I can’t let you in. We’re fully booked up today.” I don’t even know if that’s true, but I don’t like her attitude and I don’t like being treated like dirt.
She stands up straighter and raises an eyebrow. Her hands come down onto my desk, tenting her fingertips as she leans forwards. Her blond hair falls towards me and I try my hardest to stay still and hold her gaze.
“Tell him Melodie is here, and see what he says,” she says in a slow, measured voice. The meaning behind her words isn’t lost on me. She’s trying to intimidate me, let me know that she’s more important than the silly receptionist. I look at her unmoving face and decide this isn’t the time to pick a fight. I pick up the phone and dial Dr. Davis’ extension.
“Hi, Dr. Davis,” I say in a cold, professional voice. “Melodie is here, she doesn’t have an appointment, but - “
“Send her in.”
Click.
Jerk! I can’t believe he just hung up on me!!! The rage is gripping at my throat but I catch myself. I glance up at the woman in front of me. She has crossed her arms and is looking at me with a raised eyebrow. She knows she’s won, but I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing by how much.
“Ok, doctor. No problem.” I fake a flirtatious laugh to the empty phone line, flicking my eyes up to the woman. “Of course.”
I place the receiver down and gesture down the hallway.
“I’m assuming you know which office is his?” I say in a sickly sweet voice. My eyes are shooting daggers.
She doesn’t respond, only rolls her eyes and sashays by me. I watch her walk down the hallway and knock gently on his door. It opens immediately and she walks in. My throat closes, mouth suddenly dry.
Am I… am I jealous? Why in the world would I be jealous! Sure, she’s a gorgeous blonde who looks like a supermodel and she obviously knows him well enough to get preferential treatment, but..
Urgh. I don’t even like him! He’s an absolute asshole. He just hung up on me. I blow air out of my nostrils loudly. This is ridiculous, I’m just mad that my pride got injured, and I’m mad that he walked out on me and then hung up on me.
I’m done trying to be friendly. So far all it’s done is make me feel bad about myself.
I glance once more down the hallway and then snap my head back to my computer. It doesn’t matter who she is, or what she’s doing in that room.
Chapter 9 - Emma
“So get this, right. I make him a coffee, trying to be nice. I’m making an effort, clearly. And then, I try to make sure he’s ok right after he finds out he needs to be a key speaker at the biggest conference in the country and he basically bites my head off. And THEN, he fucking HANGS UP ON ME when I’m checking if an uninvited, unscheduled patient or visitor or whatever she was should go bother him!!”
“Oh, Emma,” Val’s voice comes through my cell phone. “It sounds like he’s just a dickhead. Every office has one.”
“I know, but, I mean…” I trail off. Why is this bothering me so much? She’s right, every office has one, and I should just let it go. Everyone else is nice, and I’ve even been invited to Friday drinks this week. “You’re right. He’s just so blatantly rude, like he doesn’t care at all. It’s gotten under my skin.”
I’m barreling down the street, walking towards my apartment. It’s getting dark out and I can’t wait to get home and get some dinner. This job may be a godsend but it doesn’t mean it’s all rainbows and butterflies.
“I should go, Val, thanks for the pep talk.”
“Anytime. Let’s meet up for brunch at the usual spot this weekend, you can tell me all about the other assholey things I’m sure he’ll be doing all week.”
I laugh dryly. “I’m sure I’ll have lots of material.”
We hang up the phone and I slip it into my purse. I’m rounding the corner to my apartment and feel in my purse for my keys. They aren’t in the usual small pocket so I pause, looking through the bag. No no no, please let me not have lost them. That familiar feeling of dread when I can’t immediately find my keys or phone or wallet is already welling up inside me when I feel the end of my keychain. Phew. I smile, and take another step towards my building.
Out of nowhere, a dark figure steps out of the alley. He’s big and imposing, and my heart drops to my stomach. I stop in my tracks.
“Emma Thompson,” he growls. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“I live here, Victor.”
He laughs that croaking, coughing laugh that makes my skin crawl.
“So you do. And you must know why I’m here.”
“I don’t have your money. Not yet, but I will. You told me you’d give me three months, it’s only been two.” I put my head down and try to walk around him. He side steps so that he’s in my way. I take a step back, finally looking up at his face. That white, jagged scar still cuts across his face from his forehead across to his left cheek. His eyes sling fire at me.
“Oh, I’m just reminding you what’s at stake here. You’d better get it to me, girl, or else you know what will happen.”
He takes a step towards me and instinctively I back up. I see his hand coming up towards my and my heart starts beating a million miles an hour. My blood runs cold with fear.
Time stands still and I feel weak and small. I’m powerless. I clutch my purse against me, wishing I had a knife, or some pepper spray, or something.
Then, as if he changed his mind, Victor drops his hand and turns towards a waiting car. The door of the black SUV opens and he jumps in and speeds away. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and run to my apartment.
My hands are shaking when I pull out my keys and it takes me more than a couple seconds to get the key in the lock.
“Fucking fuck, fuck, come ON!” I whisper-yell to my door, as if it’s deciding to be difficult on purpose.
Finally the key goes in and I turn in. I’m inside. I lock the door, turn and run up the stairs to my unit. More keys, more locks, until I’m safe inside my own apartment. I slam every lock I can and lean against the closed door. My heart is hammering, I have tears in my eyes. I feel the cold shiver of fear and a feverish heat all at once. I rush to my kitchen and gulp down a tall glass of water.
Not now, not yet. It’s too soon for him to be paying me a visit.
Chapter 10 - Elliot
“You look different again, Dad. Did she break up with you?”
I look up from my bowl of chilli at my feisty young daughter. She’s staring at me with those sharp blue eyes, spoon hanging in the space between her plate and her mouth.
“Where did you learn about all this,” I deflect. “You’re only ten, you’re not supposed to know about break ups and girlfriends.”
“Da-ad,” Gracie sighs. “First of all I’m almost eleven. I told you, I’m growing up. Get used to it.” She cocks her head to the side and stares back at me, challenging.
I chuckle. “Well, as I told you before, you’re the only girl in my life. You hear me? You’re my number one.” I take another bite of food. It’s my signature meal, one of the few things I’m able to make for the two of us on a weeknight. “There is something I wanted to talk to you about. I found out I’ll have to go to San Diego next week to make a speech, so you’ll have to stay at Nana’s for a couple days.”
Gracie looks up from her plate of pasta. “A speech! Cool! Can I come?”
“No, Gracie, it’s for work. You’ll have to stay with Nana.”
She lets out an exaggerated sigh and goes back to her food. I grin. Teenage years will be tough, I can tell already. I’m not sure how I managed to raise a daughter like her, she’s so different to
me. When I pick her up at school she always has a big group of friends around her. Her smile seems to light up the other kid’s faces and they’re always hanging on her every word.
I can hardly manage a full sentence, especially these days.
We finish our food and I clear the table. I’ll have to call Gracie’s grandmother to confirm she’s able to take her during the conference. My stomach drops at the thought.
Mabel is a lovely woman. She’s kind and generous and she loves Gracie to bits. But every time I call her or see her I’m reminded of what I lost and what I could have had. My throat starts tightening. My eyes are getting blurry as I move the dishes to the sink. I can’t do this anymore. It’s been seven years and I’m still caught by surprise, still can’t function properly at the slightest bump in the road.
I take a deep breath and start running the water. It washes over the bowls and I wipe my eyes on the back of my hand. I just need a few seconds to compose myself.
The sponge moves over the dishes in slow circles. I take my time, feeling the water wash over my hands and the bowls. I’m putting the last of the dishes out to dry when I hear Gracie’s voice in the other room.
“Hi Nana! I just wanted to call to say hello.” I turn my head and frown. What is she doing? I walk quickly over to the living room and see her by the window, staring out and talking on the phone.
“Mm hmm, yes. School is good!” she continues. “Well, Dad just told me that he needs to go to San Diego for work next week and I was wondering if I could stay with you?” Her laugh rings out into the room and I feel my heart swell. “I don’t call him daddy anymore, Nana! I’m getting older. Ok, love you too. Bye”
Gracie hangs up and turns towards me. She walks over slowly and I crouch down, wrapping her in a big bear hug.
“You don’t have to call Nana, Dad. She said she’d love to have me and just let her know what days it was.” She pulls her head back and puts her tiny hands on either side of my cheeks. How did she know that I find it hard to talk to her grandmother? She’s way too intuitive for me.
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