The Storm (Fairhope)

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The Storm (Fairhope) Page 4

by Laura Lexington


  MIXED FEELINGS ABOUT my “promotion” left me wallowing in a general sense of unease over the coming weeks. Granted, my new position was much more professionally rewarding. Now I was in charge, instead of basically being someone’s assistant. I felt viewed as a resource to my surgeons’ office and hospital staff, and found myself on a text message basis with key players within weeks. Andrew was there to congratulate me on every new discovery, patiently enduring my outbursts, sometimes sneaking in quiet comments about learning to handle the stress. I found myself snapping at him over the smallest things, nagging irritations that he always had but were all of a sudden intensely aggravating. His tracking mud in the house, accidentally throwing clean clothes in the dirty clothes hamper, and misplacing his keys made my skin crawl.

  On a smoldering day in mid-July, my relationship with Collin started to cross the line from uncomfortable to unbearable. I couldn’t wipe the salty sweat off my wind-chapped skin fast enough, and my leather seats were glued to my clammy skin.

  Once three o’clock hit, I pulled over and decided to ask Collin if he wanted to schedule a meeting to talk about our progress since I had started. His constant criticism was hard to endure, even for someone as thick-skinned as me. I hoped he would be in a better mood.

  “A meeting is not necessary. Go follow-up with Dr. Hatten in his office. He had some issues during our last case.”

  Hot-headed Dr. Hatten was a strong advocate for our product. He required appointments outside of cases, and Julianne, a coworker and friend in Biloxi, warned me to never disrespect his rules.

  “I have an appointment next week. Shouldn’t I wait?”

  “No,” he snapped. “We have to create access and opportunity for growth. Part of that job is taking risks and thinking outside the box.”

  I did not consider breaking a customer’s rules—especially one who I had not earned a relationship with yet—to be thinking outside the box.

  Explaining my position was useless. Collin refused to compromise.

  An hour later, I scurried out of Dr. Hatten’s office in tears, feeling like an idiot for succumbing to peer pressure. I got access, all right. “I told Collin last week not to come by without an appointment.” He glared at me, his heavily wrinkled face curled into a snarl. “What do you think … the rules don’t apply to you?”

  Collin knew stopping by without an appointment was unacceptable … and he basically forced me to do it anyway.

  Reeling from Dr. Hatten’s unsettling words, I collapsed in the sweltering heat of the miserable July sun, the energy sucked out of me mentally and emotionally. Almost to the farthest part of our territory, I listened to Joyce Meyer teach about believing all things worked together for a reason. I prayed, unsure if God was listening, but I hoped so. Lately I’d been listening to a lot more Joyce than Jay-Z.

  Are you there? I could not feel the whisper.

  Why did Collin have to be so hard to get along with? I sighed at the thought, knowing he would never find a more agreeable partner.

  Chris was right. Collin Olivier was a real piece of work … who clearly wanted to run this show on his own.

  I couldn’t forget Collin’s obnoxious comments about women and pregnancy, and Jeff’s blunt question the week before: “Are you planning on having children?” Were companies even allowed to ask that anymore?

  Rain splattered on my window, and thunder roared threateningly. My windshield wipers squeaked annoyingly, and even on the fastest speed they still weren’t removing the water enough for me to see clearly. The frantic wipers reflected me, moving as fast as possible and struggling to keep up without a moment to clear the air. I fought back yawn after yawn, my head beginning to pound. Of course, I was out of Aleve, and there was no way in Hades I was getting out of my vehicle in this weather.

  Numbly, I watched the rain that refused to calm down, reflecting on how often I unloaded on Andrew—almost every day—about my work-related stress, and even when I wasn’t talking about what was going on at work, I was thinking about it. He was a saint for not having an affair with some sunny blonde after putting up with my poisonous negativity.

  This was not how I envisioned being a territory manager would be.

  I needed the whisper to tell me what to do.

  I whimpered like a little kid afraid of punished for her bad behavior. Maybe God was mad at me and Andrew for shacking up before we got married, or for the dozen or so times I let him talk me into smoking pot, or that one time we did ecstasy after my college graduation. That was actually Grace’s fault. Or that time we’d … no, never mind, I can’t even think about that.

  My unhappiness had to be screwing with my head.

  Two days later, the shrill ring of my cell phone startled me as I pulled up to the hospital to prep for a case. I glanced at the screen to see the devil’s name flash across it. Wanting a positive, productive day, I debated answering. It was too early for this.

  Sighing, I put on my big girl pants and hit the green button. Maybe if I got the beating over with, I could enjoy the remainder of my day. Or at least make it until lunch, at which time Grace would revive me with humorous stories about her dad’s latest girlfriend. “Hey, Collin!” I said brightly. “How are you?”

  “Fine. Where are you?”

  “I’m about to see Dr. Jackson in the hospital. Prepping for the case at ten.”

  “Why are you there so early?” He sounded accusatory, as if I had done something wrong.

  I took a deep breath, cringing as my hope of achieving inner serenity for the day started to evaporate. “I want to make sure everything is in place.” My cheeks were burning.

  “You are acting irresponsibly,” he said harshly. “You had plenty of time to follow up with Dr. Tynes from yesterday’s case before going to the hospital to prep. Your decision making process needs work.”

  Irresponsible?

  Paralyzed in a temporary state of discombobulated shock, I drained every ounce of self- control in me so that I did not curse him out. No one in my life had ever even implied that I was irresponsible.

  “Listen, Collin. I respect your opinions, and I am trying to meet your expectations as a partner. But it is important to me to make sure I am prepared for this case. I can follow up with Dr. Tynes later.” Furious at his controlling behavior, I wondered what he thought gave him the right to question every decision I made.

  Spasms of pain shot out from my hands, and I noticed they were chalky white from relentlessly gripping the steering wheel. I stole a glimpse at my bitter expression in the mirror, my lipstick-less lips pursed in anger, and my skin buckled into a fierce grimace. I thought I could feel my synapses collapsing as my helpless neurotransmitters fired aimlessly, struggling to control the adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream.

  “Jana, you need to get it together….” His voice was cold.

  My boiling fury drowned out his menacing voice. I must have appeared as distraught as I felt. An older woman walked by my car, did a double-take after seeing my undoubtedly disfigured-looking face, stopped a few feet away, and mouthed, Are you okay?

  I nodded curtly, struggling to straighten my expression.

  Calm down, Jana.

  I cooled down long enough to chat with Dr. Jackson’s surgical nurse and prep for the case. Despite my best efforts to focus, all I could think about was the daunting reality that I had to do something about Collin’s refusal to cooperate.

  Back in my car a few hours later, Chris answered on the first ring.

  “Talk to Jeff.” Chris had no other suggestion.

  “I’m not a tattletale.”

  “He’s given you no choice. He’s an asshole, Jana. It’s not going to get any better.”

  “I know. Last week, he neglected to tell me to report to a case with one of our most valuable surgeons. The nurse called me at seven AM, furious, demanding to know why I was not there. Collin assigned it to me without my knowing. I barely made it, and I looked like a slacker.”

  “Jana.” Chris sounded disg
usted. “That is more than unprofessional. That is unethical. Our job involves patient care. He should have been fired for that, or at least written up. Don’t think twice; talk to Jeff.”

  “I miss working with you, Chris.”

  “I know. I told you that you would.”

  I should have thought twice about talking to Jeff.

  After a solid two hours of espresso to aid my mental preparation for discussing Collin’s unwillingness to cooperate with me, I was still incredibly nervous. Regardless of how Jeff handled it, I knew he would be disappointed that conflict existed. I was disappointed conflict existed. I never dreamt I would be stuck in partnership drama.

  God, is this going to go well?

  No. Okay, that was not good.

  Maybe I was just being paranoid. Surely the whisper did not say no. That was just my imagination…

  Mingling in a mixture of disbelief and paranoia, I began to wonder if I might be losing my mind. Maybe Grace’s bipolar disorder was contagious.

  My fingers shook as I anxiously punched Jeff’s number as I drove home. I told him about the name-calling, the case we nearly botched because Collin neglected to tell me to be there, his desire to control my daily activity, and his refusal to compromise on important decisions that needed to be made.

  “Jeff, I want to create a positive partnership. What advice do you have for me?” I was proud of myself for sounding so professional when I felt like crying like a baby.

  “You did the right thing by telling me.” I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear the discomfort in his voice. “I can see that the two of you are not working cohesively. The situation definitely needs to be rectified. I will speak with Collin without him knowing you confided in me.”

  Halfheartedly, I thanked him. I felt like such a rat.

  Though Jeff was slick and loaded with excellent communication skills, I was smarter than his smooth. The underlying irritation in his voice was unmistakable, and he was careful not to place any blame on Collin. Feeling a bit dizzy as I drove home, I was left brimming with the uncanny sense that Jeff viewed me as the problem.

  I gulped as I turned into my driveway, trying to swallow the burning dripping in my throat. The budding discontent that simmered throughout me had become way too familiar.

  What if things got worse now?

  Suddenly, I realized that my period was due the week before. Or was it this week? Now that I was off the pill, my routine was off.

  I dismissed the thought and successfully suppressed a panic attack.

  The weekend could not have arrived more slowly. The Saturday morning sunlight streamed in my curtain-less window, its glow landing gently on my favorite feather pillow. I opened my eyes lazily, drinking in the warmth on my face, stretching my legs and yawning. My silky, freshly cleaned sheets smelled like sweet perfume. I gathered a handful, bringing it to my nose and breathing it in ply. “Ahhh.” Owning a new home was exhilarating. I felt like a real “grown-up” now, especially as I grudgingly paid the first electric bill, which was astonishingly higher than the electric bills we paid during our stint with apartment living.

  I quickly swung my legs over the bed. Overwhelmed with dizziness, I winced at the sharp pain in my lower abdomen.

  “Ugh,” I groaned to myself, lying back down. Was I getting sick? My head was throbbing. “Please, not on the weekend. Not during my time away from all of the work drama.” Why was I talking out loud? No one was listening.

  I started to drift back to sleep, ultimately slipping back into dreamland where I was free of Covington Company, when Andrew tapped lightly on the bedroom door. “Jana? You getting up any time soon?”

  I blinked my eyes a few times and yawned again. “Yeah, I’m coming. I’ve been up, but didn’t feel well for a minute. I’m all right now, though.”

  Bending down, he kissed me on the cheek, his lips lingering longer than usual. I warmed at his softness. “C’mon, sexy, it’s time for you to get up.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, reluctantly throwing off my silky covers and slipping on my favorite fluffy pink slippers. “You’re never up before me. And that sweet little kiss … what’s up? What do you want?” Sleepily, I rubbed my eyes, unsure if I wanted to hear what he wanted.

  He shrugged. “Nothing, just wanted to hang out with my hot wife on a beautiful Saturday morning.”

  “Couldn’t find anyone to go fishing with you? Or play golf?”

  He rolled his gorgeous blue eyes, and I eyed the muscles that rippled down his chiseled back as he turned around. Hmm … maybe I was up for whatever he wanted. Before I could suggest anything, he disappeared.

  I dragged my achy body out of bed and reluctantly followed him.

  I gasped. A gorgeous bouquet of bright pink roses peeked out from my grandmother’s vase on the table, and a full breakfast of pancakes, sausage, fruit, and yogurt on our barely-used china lay in waiting for us. A card with my name written on it was propped up against the ornate vase.

  My jaw dashed to the floor as he stood grinning, proud of himself.

  I whirled to embrace him, nearly knocking over the heirloom vase. “Wow,” I breathed. “You’re the best. What a way to wake up and start the weekend.” I stood on my tiptoes and softly ran my lips and tongue over his ear, enjoying the fact that it only took seconds for his muscular frame to bristle. “Hmmmm … maybe if all your friends did this, they’d get laid any time they wanted, too.”

  “They say you’re so willing because we don’t have kids yet.”

  “They’re wrong.” I pinched his ass.

  He held me tightly, tenderly tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I know you’ve had a hard week, and I wanted to start the weekend off right for you. Read your card.”

  I ripped the envelope open and began to read silently. Jana, I know this has not been an easy time for you. I am sorry that things have not gone well at work, but I hope it will get better soon. I am so proud of you for working so hard, and I know it will pay off. I love you very much. You’re the most imperfectly perfect woman for me, and when times are tough, remember that we have each other. As always, Andrew.

  I kissed him like it was the first time, our tongues meeting tenderly, but hungrily. Lightly trailing my fingers right above his boxers, I hinted at his reward.

  The whole episode—the mushy card, the flowers, the fresh breakfast—brought tears to my eyes. “Thank you so much. I can’t name a single friend of mine who is waking up to a setup like this…”

  He flashed his classic grin. “You’re welcome, baby,” he said. “What’s with the tears? You’re usually Miss Tough Stuff.” He raised one eyebrow. “I’m not used to this emotional display from you.”

  Me either. I laughed out loud. “I don’t know. I have been tearing up a lot lately. I guess all the problems at work are getting to me.”

  “There is one condition that comes with this royal treatment. We are going to enjoy this weekend. No talk about work—not to me, Grace, and no calling to complain.”

  We sat down to eat, and my spirits quickly perked up. We talked about our plans for the summer, and the upcoming political campaign his father was helping with. I would be lying if I said work didn’t cross my mind every couple of minutes … okay, every couple of seconds. If he noticed my furrowed brow, he did not let on.

  “Fabulous,” I thanked him as I took our empty plates to the kitchen. “What a treat. Clean house to top it all.” I surveyed his efforts, lifting my eyebrows and nodding in appreciation. Silently, I marveled at my success in snatching up a rare man who mastered the true art of seduction.

  Dropping my kidding tone, I looked up into the eyes of the man who was more than I had known to wish for. “You’re unbelievable. There’s no topping this.” Slowly, his eyes speaking to me in a language that belonged to only us, he wrapped his muscular arms around me and intertwined his fingers through my messy dark hair.

  “Oh, but it can be topped…” His voice was laced with hunger, and in seconds I was moaning at his husky
breath on my neck. I shuddered as he whirled me around and lifted my shirt, his silky tongue finding my inviting breasts. His eyes full of burning desire, he tasted each one teasingly, sparking shocks of electricity down my weakening body. He wasted no time, skillfully sliding his hand between my thighs. Overpowered with primitive arousal, I threw my head back as the stimulation became more than I could bear.

  “Jana…” Our kiss burst into flames with an indescribable passion, a deep knowing that we belonged to one another. A knowing that no matter what life threw at us, our commitment and love were real.

  “Hurry,” I gasped as I felt him stiffen against me, my knees shaking.

  With lightning bolts of arousal illuminating his eyes, he swept me in his arms and carried me to the bedroom. We couldn’t get out of our clothes fast enough, our bodies needy for fulfillment. No spice of forbidden fruit could trump the satisfaction of the instinct that comes with true love.

  He slipped inside me, and we both cried out, my body slowly stretching to wrap tightly around him. We moved together in perfect rhythm, feeling one another’s wants with the precision that practice creates. As the intensity mounted, I closed my eyes and willed myself to wait, but I couldn’t. Three more thrusts and I was fully there, yelling out his name with one shaky breath.

  “God, you’re sexy,” he breathed, slowing slightly as I drank in the last earthshaking shocks of electricity. “Can you come again?”

  I leaned up and lightly ran my tongue over his lips, smoothly, pulling away gently with a sly smile. I felt his body shudder as he struggled to control himself. “Oh, yes.”

  We switched positions, and he clutched my hips as I slid on top of him. He cupped my full breasts in each hand, groaning as I slammed my hands on the bed posts, riding him hard until he could barely breathe.

  “Jana…”

  “You almost there?”

  He nodded desperately, and I sped up slightly, the way he liked it when he was close.

  With perfect synchronization, we climaxed together, exploding into a delicious aftershock that left us both reeling. After minutes of lying there, recovering and enjoying one another’s closeness, we disentangled until only our arms were left holding one another. Climaxing simultaneously didn’t happen every time, but when it did … it was like stealing a glimpse of heaven. Sighing, he stared deeply into my eyes, and we lay there communicating without uttering a single word.

 

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