“A present for you for your first week complete!”
I take the cup from him and inhale deeply. I smile at him, glad to have a friend at the office.
“Dave, you shouldn’t have. Thank you!” It’s hot and bitter and delicious. I take a long sip and then put the cup down.
“So, how has it been. Not too traumatic?”
I chuckle. “It’s been great Davey, everyone is really friendly.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Everyone?”
I grin. He continues:
“I heard you’ve been shackled to Dr. Grumpy for the week before this conference in San Diego.” He leans a bit closer and his eyes sparkle mischievously. “If that’s not a harsh introduction to the job then I don’t know what is.”
I laugh. “It’s been fine, really. We’ve been working on his presentation together and once you get past the quietness he’s actually really nice. His sense of humour is dry and witty, it’s good.”
Dave snorts. “Did you say sense of humour? And I’ve never heard anyone describe Elliot Davis as nice.”
“First time for everything,” I wink. We both turn as someone clears their throat behind me. My cheeks burn as I see Elliot’s muscular body standing in the entrance. God, I hope he didn’t hear too much of that. I’d hate for him to think I was a gossip, or that I was just doing this to talk about him behind his back.
The truth is that I’ve been enjoying my time with him a lot. He’s given me his speech and I’ve made up some slides. I’ve even convinced him to practice in front of me tomorrow. Whenever he smiles it just lights up his entire face and makes me feel like everything is alright. He’s nowhere near as rude as he was the first couple days.
I’ve still been coming in early and sort through the files, I just can’t get the weird Aesthetic Management fee out of my head. I’ve found over two dozen patients who have been charged this outrageous fee and I can’t figure out the connection. It feels wrong, because I know Dr. Yates told me not to. But now that I’m working with Elliot it’s an easy excuse. The fact that he told me to leave it until we get back just makes me more curious.
Dave turns to Elliot. “Morning Elliot. Good weekend?”
“It was fine.” He says abruptly before brushing past us. Dave glances at me with a raised eyebrow.
“Great sense of humour, hey?”
“Be nice, Davey,” I chide, laughing. “Not everyone is Mr. Popular.”
“I can’t help that I’m loved!” Dave responds with his arms stretched wide as he walks towards his office. I laugh and shake my head. It already feels like I fit in here.
Chapter 15 - Elliot
I know they were talking about me, but I don’t care. Not really. I’m more annoyed by the fact that Dave has it so easy. Everyone loves him, he can talk to anyone and make them laugh. Seeing him there with Emma just made me see red. I would rather he be nowhere near her. She’s too good for him, and all he has to do is talk to her and she’s laughing and smiling at him.
I sigh, slamming down the two cups of coffee on my desk. Looks like my peace offering to her was five minutes too late: Dave beat me to it. I can’t help the jealousy that grips me like a hand squeezing my heart. I shrug on my white overcoat and sit down.
Why am I even jealous?! She’s a coworker, nothing more. She’s Dave’s coworker too. Sure, I find her attractive, but I’ll never act on it. Who wouldn’t find her attractive, with those intoxicating curves and luscious red lips. It’s more than that though, it’s the way she scrunches her nose when she’s trying to figure out a problem, or that way she snorts a little bit when she’s laughing really hard.
My daydream is interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. I turn around and Emma pops her head in.
“Hey, Doctor D,” she says. I almost correct her but stop myself. I’ve never had a nickname at the office before, and I like the way her eyes glinted when she said it. “Just wanted to see if you wanted any help with your presentation?”
She slips inside my office, leaving the door ajar behind her. I take a deep breath, trying to keep my eyes steady on hers and not let myself take in every inch of her body.
“Not right now, thanks Emma.” I turn back to my computer, but she doesn’t leave.
“Rough morning?” She asks with a smile in her voice. I turn back to her, frowning.
“What do you mean.”
She points to the two coffee cups on my desk. “Double coffee this early is never a good sign.”
A million explanations fly through my head. I could tell her they messed up my order so they gave me two, or that I didn’t sleep well. I’m nervous about the speech and I just wanted two. Finally I sigh and I settle on the truth.
“I got one for you,” I tell her, watching her reaction. Her mouth opens slightly and her eyebrows shoot upwards. “As a thank you. Or… a peace offering.”
Her lips spread into a wide smile and her eyes sparkle. She brings her hands up and clasps them in front of her before laughing.
“Elliot! That’s so nice of you!”
“Looks like Dave beat me to it,” I say more bitterly than I meant to.
“A girl can never have too much coffee,” she responds. I grab the cup and hand it over to her. She takes a sip and moans with satisfaction. My cock twitches at the sound and I clear my throat to cover it up, shifting at my seat.
“So,” she says, sitting down in the chair next to my desk. Her hair bounces on her shoulders and she turns towards me, leaning in closer. I can smell her perfume and try not to stare at the curve of her waist as she sits there. “I was thinking, at the end of your speech you should circle back to the facts about quicker recovery and less scarring. Those are the key benefits so they are worth repeating.”
I nod, trying to focus on what she’s saying. All I can think of is my hands all over her, my lips on her body, on her mouth. I wonder if she’s ever thought these things about me. I clear my throat again.
“Sounds good, Em,” I say. I didn’t mean to shorten her name but it just slipped out. She smiles at me and I know I’m in for trouble in San Diego. Trouble isn’t always a bad thing though, right?
Chapter 16 - Elliot
“Daddy, Daddy!” I hear Gracie’s voice from across the school lawn. She pulls me away from my thoughts. I’ve been thinking about the past week, and how much I look forward to seeing Emma’s smile every morning. She wasn’t lying, she is a PowerPoint whiz. Her presentation is one of the best I’ve seen, and I feel a lot more confident about the conference tomorrow.
I open my arms and Gracie flies into them, running at full speed towards me. Her little arms wrap themselves around me and I stand up, giving her a spin.
“Daddy guess what!” I notice that she’s not calling me Dad but the excitement in her face stops me from teasing her.
“What is it, tell me!”
“I got the lead part in the play!! I got it!! I beat Stephanie Clark! Yess!!”
“Haha! Yes!” I drop her down to the ground and she hops from one foot to the other in excitement. Her happiness is contagious and I can’t help but smile. “That’s great, kiddo. Well done, I knew you could do it.”
She looks up at me, suddenly serious. “You’ll come see me in it, won’t you?”
I kneel down so we’re eye to eye. I put my hands on her little arms and match her seriousness. “Gracie, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Her smile cracks her face open and she jumps up again.
“Now let’s go, I’ve packed your bag and we need to go see Nana. Like I told you this morning, I leave early tomorrow so you have to stay with her tonight.”
“I hope she made her chocolate chip cookies!” Gracie exclaims as we climb into my car. I smile. Gracie’s grandmother makes the best chocolate chip cookies in the city.
“I hope so too,” I respond, winking at her. She giggles. Her happiness is boiling over. I reach over and ruffle her hair as we drive towards Nana’s house.
As we wind through the narrow residential stre
ets, closer and closer to Gracie’s grandmother’s house, my throat tightens. Gracie is singing to herself and chatting away but all I can manage are grunts in return. We turn down the street and the breath catches in my throat. I haven’t been here in almost a year, and every time I come near it’s as painful as the time seven years ago, when I realised Gracie was all I had left in the world.
We get to the familiar brick house and Gracie runs up the three steps and knocks on the blue door. It swings open and Gracie runs inside, hugging her grandmother tightly.
“Hello, dear, it’s good to see you.”
“Nana!”
I clear my throat. “Thank you for taking her, Mabel. I really appreciate it. I’ll be back on Saturday morning to pick her up.”
“It’s no bother at all, I’m glad to have my Gracie for a couple days. Now you say goodbye to your father and then we can go inside. I have a special treat for you!”
“Chocolate chip cookies?! I think I can smell them!”
Mabel chuckles and then turns to me. Her shock of white hair is curled perfectly on her head, and she’s wearing a navy pantsuit with a floral blouse. She’s always looked perfectly put together, so different to free-spirited Chloe. She looks down at my daughter and I can see her eyes mist up. She loves Gracie so much, and I know it’s because she sees so much of Chloe in her. Feistiness, intelligence, beauty, my daughter is a spitting image of her mother. My mouth feels dry and I nod to Mabel.
“Anyway, I should get going. Thanks again. Come here, monkey, let me give you a hug.”
Gracie gives me a tight embrace and then waves goodbye. I turn around before she sees my eyes welling up. It’s never easy to let her out of my sight. They close the door behind me and I trudge to my car. I sit down behind the wheel and close my eyes, sighing deeply. I would do anything for that little girl.
I take a few seconds to compose myself and then put the car in gear. I have a conference to go to, and I need to figure out how I’m going to deal with being around Emma for two full days without driving myself mad. I hate to admit it but I’m more than a little excited at the prospect of being there with her.
Chapter 17 - Emma
My computer is shutting down as I look around my desk. It’s Wednesday evening, and I leave early tomorrow for San Diego. I want to make sure I have everything because I won’t be back until Monday.
I glance over at the wall of files behind me. I’ve come in early every morning and sorted through the files in secret, without Dr. Yates catching me. I knew I shouldn’t but I couldn’t resist, my curiosity got the best of me. I glance behind me to make sure I’m alone, and then pull down one of the boxes.
I find Melodie Sanders’ file and open it up. Pulling out my cell phone, I take a couple photos of the invoices with the strange Aesthetic Management Fee charges. I quickly stuff the file back, and check my notes. There are a few other names I’d jotted down, so I pull out four more files and take photos.
Why am I doing this, I whisper to myself. This could get me fired.
Within a couple seconds, the files are back in their place and my desk is straightened out. I glance down the hallway: no sign of anyone. Satisfied, I pack up the rest of my things and head out the door.
My heart is beating and I glance behind me, as if someone would follow me out of the office. Ever since Victor popped out of the shadows I’ve been jumpy anytime I’m on the streets. But there’s no one. I make my way home, up the stairs and safe in my apartment.
I drop my purse on the kitchen table and pull out a wine glass. The first sip of red Shiraz hits my tongue and I take a deep breath. I’m sick of this. Sick of feeling afraid, alone, vulnerable. Ever since I discovered these debts it’s been a downward spiral in my life. The day after my father died I got a knock on the door. Victor’s ugly, scarred face was there, explaining to me that I owed him forty-seven thousand dollars. I’d tried to shut the door, to tell him I would call the police but he’d stuck his foot in the door to stop me closing it. I still remember gravelly, scratchy voice that day.
“How do you think your daddy got you this apartment?” he’d asked. My stomach had dropped. How did he know my dad had paid for it?
“If you don’t leave right now I’m calling the police.”
His laugh had echoed in my ears for weeks after that. “Go ahead,” he’d taunted. His greasy, gnarled finger had reached up and twisted itself around one of my curls. He’d licked his lips and I’d felt like retching. “You wouldn’t want word to get out that your own father, politician, man of the people, was using taxpayer dollars to satisfy his own insatiable gambling addiction, now would you?”
“I…I don’t believe you.” I’d hated how scared I’d sounded. How scared I felt.
“Believe this.” He’d handed me a stack of photos. There he was, my dad. In what looked like a dingy basement, playing cards. He was in his usual grey pinstripe suit surrounded by thugs and greasy, dangerous-looking men. My stomach had dropped and I’d once again felt like throwing up.
“Now since this is a hard time for you, seeing as your father just died and all, I’m going to be generous. He owes us forty-seven thousand dollars at ten percent interest. I’d better have my money in three months.”
And just like that, he’d walked down the stairs and out of my building.
Ever since that day I’ve been looking over my shoulder everywhere I go. The rage, the betrayal I’d felt that day is growing inside me again. I take my glass of wine from the kitchen and rush over to my living room table. I pull out the bottom drawer and fish out the photos at the bottom. The tears well up inside me. My father, my hero. He looks so handsome and so out of place at that poker table.
I let the hot tears stream down my face like lines of lava on my cheeks. Ever since the day he died I’ve felt alone. It’s like the spark inside me has dimmed. I’ve always been the one to light up a room, the one with a quick comeback. Since that day a month ago it all just seems like a chore. Valerie was there for me, she knew I was hurting. But I couldn’t tell her this. I couldn’t tell her that the man I’d admired most was a fraud. A gambler. A liar.
Pull yourself together.
In two weeks’ time, with this job and a reference from Doctor Yates, I’ll be able to get a loan from the bank. I’ll still be in debt but at least then my debts will be legitimate and won’t come with the fear of death. It’s the only way I can see out of this.
I tip the glass of wine back and finish it in one gulp. I need to pack. A few days away from this godforsaken city will do me good. I just hope Elliot keeps being civil with me, and doesn’t go back to being the asshole he was last week.
Chapter 18 - Emma
The taxi pulls up outside the airport and I climb out. I pay the driver and head into the terminal. Elliot is standing by the checkin desk, tapping his foot and staring at one of the doors. I walk over to him.
“Hey,” I say.
“You’re late,” he growls.
“I’m not.” Looks like the asshole is back. I try not to let the frustration build up inside me. I’ve been with him for thirty seconds. “I checked in online. Let’s go through security.”
He nods and we walk down to the lineup of people waiting to go through the security gates. I glance over at him. He looks good. He’s dressed in a white t-shirt that grips his body perfectly. The thin cotton fabric hugs his muscular chest, leaving nothing to my imagination. His slacks show off his perfectly round ass. I try not to let my eyes wander up and down his body too much. My hands are itching to touch his shoulders, his chest, anywhere.
I watch as he unbuckles his belt in the security line. He pulls it out of the belt loops and puts it on the conveyor belt. My eyes flick down to his crotch and I look away before he has a chance to catch me. My cheeks are burning. It’s different, seeing him dressed more casually. I don’t even care that he’s in a bad mood. His blue eyes look stormy, almost grey. I can deal with grumpiness as long as it means I won’t be cornered on the street by angry thugs asking m
e for money. I certainly won’t let someone like Dr. Elliot Davis get me down.
We file through security and wait at the gate in silence. I sit next to him and can feel the heat from his body. His thick quads are straining against the fabric of his pants. He hasn’t said a word to me since he told me I was late.
Finally, I’ve had enough. I shift in my seat and turn to face him.
“Look, Doctor Davis,” I start, making sure to use his full title. “We are going to be spending the next two days together. Over the past week you’ve shown me that you do, in fact, have a personality.” He bristles, but I keep going. His eyes are narrowing on me. “I would like to avoid spending the rest of the week in misery just because you are deciding to be grumpy for no good reason.”
I stop talking, staring at him. I know my eyes are ablaze with anger and frustration. I can’t stand being next to someone, being attracted to someone on such a carnal level and not being able to talk to him. We stay like that, eyes locked on each other. I’m on edge, my entire body is electric. It feels like an age goes by and finally his shoulders slump slightly and he looks away.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” His eyes flick back up to mine and this time they’re clear, questioning. “If I’m honest, I’m nervous.”
What is he nervous about? His speech? That’s understandable. But the way he’s looking at me… is he nervous about being here with me? I soften my voice before I start talking again. Before I can stop myself my hand is reaching over to him and I place it lightly on his forearm. I try to ignore the sizzling heat that travels through my body the second our bodies touch. His skin is warm, almost hot.
“It’ll be fine. You’re a highly successful, qualified surgeon. You know what you’re talking about. Your speech will blow the roof off. Plus,” I continue with a wink. “You’ve got a kick-ass set of slides to go with it.”
Despite his best efforts to be grumpy his mouth starts breaking into a smile. I pull my hand away and immediately wish I had left it there.
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