by Hill, Sierra
“Drag what out?”
Sasha’s mouth quirked up in a knowing smile. “Oh gee, let me think. Maybe I’d like to know what the hell happened between you and Mitch Camden that sent you flying over the freaking ledge yesterday? That man is a Greek god and you’re a pussy for not being able to handle it.” That was Sasha…never one to mince words or filter her thoughts.
Rylie knew to expect the first degree from Sasha, but debated whether to come clean and share every detail. Knowing her friend would eventually figure it out and make her spill everything, she decided she’d share most of it and leave out some of the more savory parts.
Rylie loosened and then tightened her grip on the steering wheel before responding, really uncertain of how to explain it to her. “I don’t know, Sash. Maybe I am…or was a bit overwhelmed by his…”
“By his what? His incredible hotness? His virility? His huge cock?”
Rylie couldn’t help but choke out a laugh at her friend’s bold choice of words. Recalling the heated moments she’d spent with Mitch over the last week, she considered what it was that had her fleeing for the hills.
“No – it’s not that,” she said, shaking her head, trying to find the words that made her weak. “It’s his intimidatingly smooth arrogance and self-confidence.”
Sasha looked at her as if Rylie had two heads.
“Really? He was too confident in his masculinity? Most women would wet themselves over a man like Mitch. He’s wealthy, smart, insanely gorgeous, and from what I hear, one of the most eligible bachelors in Boston.”
She grew quiet and contemplative for a moment, looking intently over Rylie’s profile. Rylie felt uncomfortable in her examination, as if she were mentally sussing out the details. But instead, her tone was laced with apologetic worry.
“Ry, did he try something on you? You know if he did, I will personally kick his ass. I will never allow a client to intimidate my employees, physically or verbally. You know this.”
Rylie could feel Sasha’s eyes boring into her scalp, like little daggers digging to get inside her brain. Sasha was intensely fierce when it came to protecting her friend, especially in light of her history.
Rylie shook her head emphatically.
“No – God no! At least not in the way you mean,” she said, hesitating slightly, her face heating up like a torch. “Mitch…he…well, I guess, kissed me…” She stopped, taking a quick glance over to Sasha, waiting for the reaction to her admission. “More than once.”
“Oh, holy shit. And did you kiss him back?”
Rylie shook her head with her admission.
“Oh my God! I’m so proud of you! Please tell me you at least liked it, otherwise there is something seriously wrong with you.”
Rylie knew her friend was only joking, because she had an amused smile on her face. But considering it had been five years since she’d enjoyed a man’s touch, her statement still held a lot of truth. She had worried that maybe the damage done to her had been irreparable. That she’d never feel safe again with a man. Never want to open herself up to the possibility of getting too close. Protecting her heart and her body from the pain and anguish.
“Yes, I liked it. A little too much,” she whispered guiltily. “But I crossed the line, Sasha. My judgment was impaired and I couldn’t do my job effectively. I couldn’t touch him without feeling something and it was unprofessional. That is NOT who I am. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. My reputation…in fact, your clinic’s reputation is at stake. And the only way I can prevent that irreprehensible behavior from occurring in the future is to stop working with him altogether.” She looked at her friend sheepishly. “I know that’s the coward’s way out…but it was impossible to resist him and do my job effectively.”
Sasha took a breath and blew it out, straightening out her skirt and repositioning herself back toward the front of the car. Her disposition went from enthusiastic to somber.
“Well, Ry, I hate to tell you this, but you’re going to have to face your fears. You can’t always get what you want.”
“What does that mean? I thought you were able to work it out so that I could transfer him to Carmen next week?” Rylie could hear the sudden panic rising in her voice, feel it creep up in her throat as it clawed to escape. She felt the walls closing in on her.
“Listen. I did check Carmen’s schedule and she said she could pick up the three days next week and I emailed Mitch to let him know. Then he sent me an email not twenty minutes later informing me he has a business trip out of town and needs a therapist able to travel…” Rylie knew what was coming next.
Sasha played with her skirt, a sign of nervousness that Rylie rarely saw from her.
“Ry, you know Carmen’s a single mom and can’t travel because of her kids. And I certainly can’t leave my patients and upcoming surgical procedures. So it’s up to you....plus, he offered to donate money for the addition to the clinic.”
Rylie had just pulled into the parking ramp at Logan International and sat there in stunned silence. She felt shell-shocked. Anxiety bubbled up from the pit of her stomach and rippled through her body. The telltale signs of a full-blown panic attack were taking shape, the tightening of her chest, the short, choppy breaths that had Rylie gulping for air. She swallowed thickly and turned to face Sasha.
“He bribed you? Oh my God - what does that make me, his paid prostitute and you’re my pimp?” Rylie’s face burned red. This could not be happening. All she wanted to do was get away from him and the strange hold he seemed to have over her. Her brain and body warred with her, the mixed feelings having an internal sword fight. She didn’t want to be near him, yet that’s the only place she wanted to be.
Rylie glared at her friend and then took a steadying breath.
“And just where exactly will you be sending me on this business trip of his?”
Sasha gestured a ‘Ta-Da’ with her hands, bestowing a congratulatory smile at her friend. With her voice two-octaves higher than normal, she exclaimed, “Miami!”
****
Rylie put on a good face as they met up with Mark and his family inside the terminal. Sasha had started gushing tears the moment she saw him, as they all hugged and said their goodbyes. Before he went into the security line, Mark pulled Rylie aside to hug her and speak with her privately.
“Hey sweetie, it’s only going to be a year. I promise I’ll Skype you weekly,” Mark said, pulling her close in a bear-hug. “You can keep me updated and fill me in on all the outlandish details of Sasha’s love life – that slut!”
Rylie laughed, but a tear slipped from the corner of her eye, making her way down her cheek. She would miss him immensely and was worried for his safety being so far from civilization.
“And the offer holds – you can come visit me anytime you want. I may look all brave and manly on the outside, but between you and me, I’m scared shitless.”
Rylie hugged him tighter. She was so proud of Mark, accomplishing what he set out to do. He was pursuing his dream by joining Doctors-Without-Borders and would be in Ghana for the next twelve months. He was so brave and confident, despite his admission to the contrary. She wished she could be more like him, to prove with actions that she could be strong and courageous. To recapture the fire that had been stolen from her.
“Then don’t go,” she choked out. “I’ll miss you so much.”
“Ah, sweets. It’ll be okay. You’re in good hands here. And from the sounds of it, you may have someone to keep you entertained during my absence.”
Rylie pulled back from his grip and looked up into his caring face, giving him an inquisitive look. Mark shrugged his shoulders and gestured innocently.
“What? You think I haven’t heard about the sparks flying already between you and Mitch Camden?” Damn that Sasha. Could never keep her mouth shut.
Mark chuckled and ruffled Rylie’s hair. She turned to where Sasha stood and gave her an evil look.
“No, Ry, it wasn’t Sash. I made that call the other night at the
bar. Mitch was asking me a lot of questions about who you were, what you did, etcetera, etcetera. And it became pretty obvious when I saw you talking with him, even though you may not admit it to yourself, that there was something brewing there. You two looked rather chummy.” He pulled away from her and stepped back, his hand coming up underneath her chin. His eyes held her stare, as she blinked back tears. “Just promise me one thing.”
Rylie cocked her head. “What? I’ve already promised to Skype your ugly face every week.”
“Ha! So true,” he laughed, but his smile quickly faded.
“Just promise me to be careful. I’ve known Mitch practically my whole life. He’s an awesome guy and comes from a great family. But with women, well, he’s a notorious heartbreaker. He’s not looking to settle down. He’s good for a fling, I’m sure. I just don’t want to see you hurt.”
Rylie grabbed hold of his shoulders and he brought his head down to touch her forehead. “First off,” she started indignantly. “I’m not involved with, nor will I be involved with, Mitch Camden. He’s a client, for God’s sake. And second, I think he’s an arrogant ass.”
Mark laughed harder as he leaned in. “My dear sweet Rylie, you just keep telling yourself that.” He pushed himself off, patted her head and then turned to rejoin the rest of the group, who were now huddled around Sasha, the constant center of attention.
Waving their farewells, Sasha looped her arm around Rylie’s as they exited the main concourse. They walked in silence, arm in arm, until they reached the car in the lot. Standing outside, Rylie looked out over the rooftop to her friend, who she could tell was trying ardently to mask her sorrow with an overly bright smile.
Sasha and Mark had been best friends since their freshman year in college and were thick as thieves. They shared a small apartment all through med school and had been each other’s confidants through countless hook-ups and break-ups over the years. For some of their longer-term significant others, their friendship was more than cause for jealousy, even though neither Mark or Sasha had ever expressed a love more than friendship for one another. They were just connected, with a deep and true, unromantic love for one another.
Sasha let out a sigh. “I guess it’ll just be the two Amigas from now on,” she said, throwing her hands up on the roof of the car with a thunk. “Which means you’re going to have to up your rowdiness factor, Rylie Hemmons. Starting right now. We need to go to O’Leary’s and get shitfaced!”
Rylie tried to think of a quick excuse to get her out of a night of Sasha drowning her sorrows and getting hit on by a dozen men. Nothing seemed to come to mind because she really had no life outside of Sasha and her antics. So she said yes to what would inevitably be a night of Sasha ditching her for a one-night stand with a hot, single man.
Rylie never envied or begrudged Sasha for her seductive persuasion over the opposite sex. In fact, she found it entertaining how easily Sasha could ensnare and beguile a man with just a wink and a laugh. It could also have something to do with Sasha’s magnetic personality, and maybe even more how well she was endowed.
Turning down Sasha’s street, Rylie grimaced. “Hey, before we go out tonight, you need to tell me how the hell you got me trapped in this Miami business. I’m still pissed at you, by the way.”
“Oh, pfft,” Sasha waved, jumping out of the parked car and heading to the door of her brownstone. “That reminds me, I need to lend you some of my barely-there ensembles for your trip. I have just the one-piece for you,” she declared, looking Rylie up and down. “Remember that little red suit I got when I went to Jamaica last year? Oh girl, you are going to have him eating out of the palm of your hand! Ooh, and don’t forget that slinky silver dress I bought at Bergdorf’s in New York. If he doesn’t get a full-blown hard on when he sees you in that dress, I don’t know what it will take.” And just like that, Sasha was back to her happy, lovable, if not a little nutty, self. It even made Rylie crack a smile as they entered the front door.
“If you recall, I think I mentioned that I don’t want anything to do with him or him eating out of the palm of my hand. Have you not been listening to me over the last week? He makes me so mad I want to scream. I don’t want to sleep with the guy!”
Sasha turned to her as she entered her bedroom closet. Hands on her hips, she shifted her stance from one foot to the other. She cocked an eyebrow.
“Well honey, as the saying goes…you can either fight or fuck.” She grabbed a Louis Vuitton bag and began filling it with what seemed to be two-dozen bathing suits, skirts, dresses and heeled sandals. “And fucking is just more fun…”
CHAPTER Nine
The remainder of the weekend went by in a blur, with her Saturday night out with Sasha culminating in nothing more than Sasha passing out on her couch by two a.m. Rylie spent Sunday doing the domestic chores that demanded her attention, watching Sunday afternoon football on TV and packing. She’d decided against spending the entire day with her father, instead needing some quiet time to herself. The upcoming week would be difficult and she needed some time to come to grips with where she’d be going and who she’d be with.
The only interesting things that had occurred were two emails she received, via way of Sasha. One was an invite to be Sasha’s date to a charity fundraiser for Doctors-Without- Borders. Rylie had no idea why Sash invited her to accompany her when she could have gotten any gorgeous single guy of her choosing to attend. She supposed it was in support of Mark’s efforts, so she would go along with it. But God, it sounded like torture. She didn’t like to get dressed up and having to small talk over cocktails with wealthy-as-fuck people. It was so not her scene, but she placed the event date of November first on her calendar. She scowled thinking of the formal wear she’d be expected to wear.
The other item in her Inbox that sparked her interest was an email from Mitch’s administrative assistant, Georgina Packard, who provided her the details of the upcoming trip to Miami. A car was to pick her up from her apartment first thing that Tuesday morning, taking her to Logan where she’d be flying American Airlines in First Class down to Miami International. The two details that appeared to be missing were her hotel accommodations and what kind of gym amenities it would provide. She would need this information in order to prepare Mitch’s planned exercises for each day of the trip. She typed a very quick and formal email back to Georgina, who was hopefully in-the-know about her boss’s arrangements.
Within ten minutes she had a response back, but it didn’t come from Georgina Packard. The email address was from Camden Ventures, but it was an email directly from Mitch. He was apparently now in possession of her email address.
So much for privacy.
To: Rylie Hemmons
From: Mitchell Camden
Date: October 10
RE: Your Itinerary
Dear Miss Hemmons,
It pleases me greatly to know you’ll be continuing in my rehabilitation and will be accompanying me to Miami. I can only assume you’ll provide me with the same level of exceptional therapy I’ve come to expect from you.
To answer your question, you will not be staying in a hotel but in a private home that I’ve rented. I can assure you that it is fully stocked with all the necessary equipment you may need, as well as a pool, sauna and hot tub. Which I hope we can put to good use, for my therapy, of course.
I look forward to your exquisite care and your magical hands. Please contact me directly with any questions or concerns.
Yours Truly,
Mitch
PS: Please bring evening attire.
OMG!
Rylie was speechless as she finished reading the email a second time. Her level of anxiety had reached a tipping point after hearing about the Miami trip, but now it was full-scale panic as she’d learned she’d be isolated with Mitch in a rented house, and not in a hotel as she had originally expected.
She wished she had Sasha’s confidence and could just go with the flow and not feel so self-conscious about the sleeping arrangements. And
what about his comment on the evening attire? Her stomach was in knots as she looked over at the pile of clothes that she’d dumped out on her bed when she returned from Sasha’s. The skimpy, one-shoulder sequined cocktail dress and silver Christian Louboutin three-inch sandals all but screamed, “Fuck Me!”
Rylie swallowed hard. She’d be fooling herself if she didn’t admit to wanting Mitch to find her desirable when she wore it. She wanted to see his expression as he perused her body from head to toe, licking his lips to prove his hungry appetite for her.
Right there. That pissed her off. Thinking this way was not going to make the trip any easier. She could not afford to have these thoughts or feelings jumbling up her head. She had to remain professional and follow the rules on this trip. No dopey-ass commentary or fantasies from this point forward, she resolved.
Rylie typed out a response indicating she’d see him on Tuesday and sent it off. There, now that that was done and out of the way, she could go for her run and head over to her father’s house for another night of football.
****
Mitch had been laser-focused on completing his required exercises over the weekend. He was nothing but obsessed with getting back to full-speed as soon as feasibly possible. In fact, he’d become comfortable walking without the aid of the crutch. He wondered if Rylie would be proud of the progress he’d made in just one week. The knee brace was still securely worn, but his range and motion had improved considerably, allowing him to bend and squat with a higher degree of confidence. And truth be told, he felt his balls begin to reappear, his male ego taking a beating over the past few weeks having to rely on the aid of those fucking walking sticks.
With his therapy going well and most of his projects on track, his thoughts became consumed with the upcoming trip and spending time with Rylie. She was constantly invading his thoughts throughout the week and he smiled to himself as he conjured up the image of her reading his email the day before. Knowing what he now knew of her and her fiery little temper, he could envision her huffy response. Her hands would be drawn to her hips, her mouth scrunched in a haughty gesture and it was more likely than not that some choice curse words would have been flying. He laughed at the image he procured in his head. If only he could have told her in person, he would have grabbed hold of those hips and sucked off those potty-words from her lips with his mouth, making her forget all about her hostility toward him.
