Learning to Breathe: Part One - The Collective - Season 1, Episode 3

by Ellie Masters

  “You’re staring, Miss Levenson.”

  And she was. She couldn’t help herself. He was a magnet, an irresistible force she couldn’t resist, but his words had her lowering her eyes again, as if she didn’t dare stare upon his brilliance.

  “Don’t make fun of me,” she said.

  He closed the distance and placed one finger under her chin. Lifting, he forced her to meet his eyes. “I’m not laughing, my dear. I’m simply enjoying the fact I’m not the only one caught breathless. I’ve missed you.”

  Derek placed his hands on her bare shoulders, steadying her in the too high heels. Two glasses of wine shouldn’t have her weaving on her feet. Or was that him making her weak in the knees?

  He took her lips, smothering her in a kiss, taking her breath, and making it his. Her tiny gasp gave him the opening he needed to slip his tongue inside, and like any other invader, he plundered and ravaged, taking what he desired. She surrendered, conquered by his power and more than willing to sacrifice herself to his need.

  Tracing the hardened muscle under his tuxedo became her sole purpose in life. As wonderfully exciting as the kiss was, it frightened her because of how uninhibited her response became. It didn’t make sense. While the rational side of her brain said slow down, her hand fluttered, and her fingers gripped the buttons of his shirt, pulling him closer rather than pushing him away.

  This was what she wanted. Right? Unrestrained passion? But, she needed to play a little hard to get. Otherwise, how would he ever respect her?

  Derek groaned, a deep throaty rumble of desire. The noise made her heart race, or maybe it was the kiss. His tongue darted around her mouth, teasing and tasting. He nibbled her lower lip, eliciting a moan from her, and sucked it into his mouth.

  Wine had nothing to do with her knees giving way. Derek wrapped an arm around her waist and held her against him, making her feel safe. He didn’t even break the kiss, continuing the pillage of her mouth. Damn, he had this kissing thing down.

  She should resist? Right? Maybe? They’d only had the one date. But, dang, she couldn’t stop herself. She even wrapped her hands around his neck and twined her fingers in his hair. He pulled on her lip, nipped it, and withdrew as suddenly as he had begun. Then, he released her, but not before making certain she had a solid footing on those stupid heels.

  “That was your punishment for keeping me up at night.”

  “My what?”

  He kissed her brow. “You’re amazing. I don’t think you understand how much.”

  She struggled to process what he meant but came up blank.

  “Come.” He directed her to a chair at the front of the box. From there, she could peer over the railing at the crowd below. The first time she'd been here, she'd sat on the other side of the small aisle, and had been alone. His date had wanted to throw popcorn on the people below. Best not to think about that woman, all it did was make her insecurities flare.

  The discordant notes of the orchestra drifted in the air. Musicians tuned their instruments as they readied themselves to make magic happen on stage. He took the seat beside her. The house lights dimmed, and the conductor united the orchestra into the first stanzas of a piercing melody.

  A rustling of noise announced the arrival of his friends. Soft laughter bubbled and then quieted as a couple entered. Derek stood to greet a stunning woman, placing a kiss on her cheek, then shook hands with a short man with red hair. He came back to Sally and held out his hand to help her to her feet.

  “Sally, let me introduce you to my friends.” He pulled her to his side and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

  The man slugged Derek in the arm. “Very nice!”

  Derek didn’t move, but he tugged her closer, tightening his grip. “Sally, this is Warren McBride and his lovely wife, Ellen.”

  Warren and Ellen had to be the most polar opposite couple Sally had ever met. A short, barrel-chested man, Warren was only a few inches taller than Sally. Five-six, seven perhaps? And that was being generous.

  Despite his height, he carried himself with confidence and stood, firmly grounded on a wide base. He even puffed out his chest, as if trying to take up more space. A trait which probably served him well in life, considering not only the oddity of his stature but the thick wavy red hair and neatly trimmed mustache which curled at the ends.

  His narrowly spaced, small dark eyes didn’t help either. They darted around, taking an instant appraisal of every detail, reminding her of a…well, a beady-eyed, red-haired rat with whiskers. He even had artificially brightened teeth, a little too large for his narrow jaw. The way he wriggled his nose made the rat analogy impossible to dismiss. Like Derek, he wore a tuxedo, but where Derek’s stretched over muscles, Warren’s growing midsection challenged his buttons with the task of keeping everything together.

  Ellen, on the other hand, was a willowy, tall, redheaded knockout. The only thing those two shared was the color of their hair. Ellen had a model’s ultra-lean body without looking as if she was on the brink of starvation. Her hair was done up in a bun, with a ring of wild curls framing her face. Several strands had escaped the bun and draped down her nape. The dark, skin-hugging dress stopped well below her knees. Made from a knit fabric, the dress had long, tight sleeves, a turtleneck top, and hid nothing that was underneath.

  Despite being close to six-feet in height, Ellen wore impossible four-inch heels, balancing comfortably, as she towered over her husband. A simple and elegant band of silver encircled her neck and a massive diamond dangled from the clasp. The woman blinked incredible sapphire eyes and smiled. Women like Ellen made Sally feel small, insignificant, and plain, if not ugly. But, Ellen radiated a remarkable warmth. Her smile lit up the private box and had Sally relaxing.

  “Sally!” She spoke as if she’d known Sally for years. “We’re so glad you made it. Derek has talked non-stop about you.” She winked at Derek. “He’s been simply adorable.” Rather than shaking Sally’s hand, Ellen gathered Sally into a hug.

  Derek stiffened at Ellen’s comment, then gave a stern look at Warren when his friend laughed.

  “It’s a pleasure, Miss Sally.” Warren shook her hand, then guided Ellen to the back row of seats.

  The theater lights blacked out. The ballet would soon begin.

  A brassy laugh boomed from the hall. “Damn, but we barely made it.”

  Derek smiled. “And this, is Karl Jones and his…girlfriend, Justine Swan.” Derek completed the introductions. He had meant to say something other than girlfriend but had caught himself just in time.

  If Warren was slight of build, Karl was a mountain of a man, six-five perhaps, and distinctly unhandsome. His face was long, bony, and acne scarred. His big, powerful hands had lumpy, irregular knuckles as if he’d been in one too many bar fights in his life. His nose was crooked too. If it weren’t for the perfectly fitted tuxedo, she could easily mistake him for a dockworker or farmer.

  Diamond cufflinks glittered in the light, and the splash of emerald silk in his breast pocket was the finest grade. It matched the color of his eyes, which in addition to his craggy smile, made her forget how ugly he had first appeared. He had a genuine quality about him, something intangible which made Sally feel as if she could trust him implicitly, and that Texas twang, was thick, rich, and unapologetic.

  Karl extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Sally.”

  Justine said nothing. She dipped her head in greeting and gave a slight smile. She looked to be twenty years younger than her date. Her skin had that porcelain translucency unique to her Asian heritage, completely flawless and perfect. Her almond eyes were deep chocolate and held a haunting, doe-eyed innocence, as if she carried a priceless secret. Unlike Ellen, her body was slim and boyish, thin, but perfectly proportioned. The top of her head didn’t even reach Karl’s shoulders. She’d poured herself into a micro-mini dress, black, strapless, with the skirt barely covering her ass. How was she was going to sit without the dress riding up?

  Karl and Justine took the pair of sea
ts behind Sally and Derek. Just in time, too. The curtain rose, and the music announced the first ensemble of dancers. Derek guided Sally to her seat and gripped her hand giving it a tight squeeze.

  Sally took in a breath and let it out. All those nerves from moments before had evaporated, leaving her oddly content with him at her side. Before she could shift into a comfortable position, Derek had his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

  “I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else.” He whispered in her ear. “I’ve missed you.” He placed her hand on his knee and traced circles on the inside of her wrist. His hand engulfed hers, holding her if not tight, then at least with a sense of possession. He leaned back as the dancers took the stage.

  She started to say something, but he leaned down and whispered. “Shh, it’s not polite to speak during a performance. Don’t make me punish you.”

  He nipped her ear, and it was all she could do to keep from jumping out of her skin. Behind her, Karl chuckled.

  Chapter 5

  Limo

  Sally squirmed during the performance. The dancers could have tripped all over themselves, and she wouldn’t have cared. Focusing on Giselle was simply impossible when sitting beside Derek.

  He never stopped touching her, and she really liked that. When he moved his arm from around her shoulder, his hand merely dropped to rest lightly, but distinctly on her bare thigh. She tried to cross her legs, pulling out of his reach, but he tucked his arm under hers, and trapped her hand, entwining his fingers in hers. He leaned against her, shoulder brushing against hers, fingers dancing down her arm.

  His eyes angled toward her cleavage, and it made her uncomfortable, but strangely aroused at the same time. She didn’t know what to do. Should she take her hair and pull it forward to cover her chest? When she did, he gave a soft laugh and pushed her hair back over her shoulder.

  She tried to tug her shawl closed, but he gripped the edge of the fabric and pushed it back as well.

  Into her ear, he whispered, “Don’t hide from me. You’re beautiful.”

  She twitched when he nibbled on her neck. He started at her ear and ended at the tip of her shoulder. If they hadn’t been at the ballet, she was certain he wouldn’t have stopped at the shoulder.

  Behind them, Karl and Justine nuzzled and kissed. She wasn’t sure what they were doing back there, except Justine gasped several times during the performance.

  Warren and Ellen were serenely quiet. An easy grace flowed between those two, almost as if they could read each other’s thoughts. They shared a deep, palpable connection. Sally missed that. She’d had something similar with Thomas. Pressing a hand to her chest, she rubbed at the ache of loneliness left after his passing.

  Intermission came and went. Instead of retreating to the VIP reception, Derek had one of the ushers bring in two bottles of champagne. He poured for everyone, then the group separated. The men gathered toward the back of the box, near the door, while Ellen and Justine came to the front. Ellen sat beside Sally while Justine peered over the railing.

  “What do you think?” Ellen asked.

  “About the ballet?”

  Ellen laughed. “Well, let’s pretend we’re talking about the ballet, but what do you think about Mas—um, Derek?”

  Sally shrugged. “We’ve only just met.”

  “But you’ve talked to him every day.”

  How did Ellen know that? Cautious around other people, Sally’s natural shyness kicked in. The best answer was to deflect.

  “Are you enjoying the performance? I haven’t seen Giselle performed in a very long time. I forgot how beautiful it is.”

  Ellen glanced toward the stage. “Oh yes. The dancers are lovely. Warren isn’t a fan of the ballet. Tonight is a special treat, and I have you to thank for that.”

  “Me?”

  She nodded. “Derek said we absolutely had to join him. Don’t tell him I told you this, but he can’t stop talking about you.”

  “Really?”

  Ellen glanced back at the men. “Well, not to me, but to Warren. To be honest, I’m surprised Warren even agreed to come. Lucky me.” Ellen gripped Sally’s hand. “I’m really looking forward to getting to know you better.”

  What was the proper response? “Um…me too.”

  “Derek says you’re a doctor?”

  “I’m the Medical Examiner for the county.”

  “Oh, that must be…interesting?”

  I talk to the dead. An inside joke, it probably wasn’t appropriate with Derek’s friends. “Kind of, but not really. I determine cause for deaths occurring outside hospitals: suicides, murders, and suspicious deaths. That kind of thing.”

  Justine turned around, silent, but her eyes widened with alarm.

  She explained, “Any death outside of a hospital is, by definition, a coroner’s case. I determine cause of death, natural, suicide, or homicide. If a homicide, I turn over my findings to the Homicide department.”

  “You work with the police?” Ellen batted those sapphire eyes, making Sally wonder if they were real or not, but she didn’t see the rim of a colored contact.

  “Some times.” She worked closely with the police, like Detective Mac and Logan Reid. San Francisco was a big city. Half her cases involved suspicious deaths, like the body she’d examined earlier today.

  “Wow. You do CSI stuff?”

  She shook her head. Television had done much to confuse the general public. “I look at the bodies and determine if the death was natural or not. Anything weird, I pass on to the appropriate department.”

  Justine’s eyes widened, but she remained oddly mute.

  The lights dimmed, and the warning bells sounded, alerting the audience the second act was about to begin. Ellen squeezed Sally’s hand and scooted across the aisle, beaming a smile at Derek when he returned to his seat. Champagne glasses were refilled, and empty bottles returned to the usher.

  During the second act, the dancers stole Sally’s breath. Precise and on pointe, they captivated her with the impeccable choreography. By the end of the performance, she was leaning forward, hands clasped to her chest, completely mesmerized.

  Ballet had been a big part of her childhood. Her mother had driven her to dance class five times a week, spending two hours reading in the car while Sally learned to plié and arabesque. After her mother’s death, dance class ended and her love affair with the arts withered and died. Thomas had been more of a Sunday football man and thought ballet was for pussies.

  At the conclusion of the performance, the house lights turned on, and the theater erupted in a buzz of applause, swishing silk, rustling jackets, talkative children, and exuberant conversations. In their little box, the trio of couples stood and stretched. Derek placed his hand against the small of her back and steered her into the crowded hallway.

  When he kissed the top of her head, it felt natural and right. She allowed herself to sink into the feeling of belonging and prayed she wasn’t making a mistake.

  They headed out the main doors and down the steps of the theater house. Outside, at the base of the steps, a limousine waited. Not the usual stretch limo but an SUV. A man in black trousers with matching jacket held the passenger door open. Clearly, he had been expecting them.

  Derek kept his arm around her waist and guided her down the steps. Karl and Warren sidestepped Derek, tugging their dates behind them.

  The dancing butterflies had returned, and Sally pulled up short, suddenly nervous.

  Warren scrunched his upper lip, making that mustache wriggle and swatted Ellen on the ass, ushering her inside. He followed Ellen into the limousine. When Karl helped Justine into the car, Sally glimpsed every bare inch of skin under that micro-mini. Karl smacked her hard on the ass and Justine tumbled into the car with a squeak.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Derek said, “but it’s not going to happen.”

  “You have no idea what’s on my mind,” she countered. Sally eyed the limousine uncertain as to her next step.

  “You’
re thinking of backing out.” He placed a finger under her chin and lifted, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You’re nervous and unsure. Right now, you’re thinking of an excuse to get you out of here, because you’re too scared of what might come next.”

  “I wasn’t—” But she had been doing just that.

  He placed a finger over her lips. “You’re scared to death, but excited at the same time. That’s terrifying because you don’t understand the source of your emotions.”

  The fierceness of his gaze pinned her in place. It was as if he’d seen into the depths of her soul. She had never felt so transparent, exposed, or raw.

  His finger never left the underside of her chin and somewhere during his speech, he had wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. Was he going to kiss her again?

  “How did I do?” he asked. “Was that pretty close?”

  Sally stared into impossibly blue eyes and nodded. He had a knack for rendering her speechless.

  He laughed, “If you don’t say something, I’m going to kiss you. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She needed time to clear her head.

  His eyes bore into her. “First rule, unbreakable and nonnegotiable, if I ask a question, you tell me the truth, and I’ll extend the same courtesy to you. It’s the only way to build trust. Don’t lie to me. And I will always tell you the truth.”

  She closed her eyes. It was easier to ignore uncomfortable truths and let them fade away, but Derek didn’t seem to be the kind of person to let that happen. He demanded honesty, and she would give it to him.

  “I don’t understand something.”

  “What don’t you understand?”

  “Well, it’s about your date the night we met.” She hated how insecure she sounded, or how she always compared herself to the perfection of others. “She was gorgeous. I don’t understand why you’re interested in me when you can have someone like her.”

  “Do you doubt I find you attractive?”

  She stared at his feet, unwilling to engage.