by J. Nichole
Outside, there were groups of people standing around the yard. I found the food table set with containers of all sorts. Thankfully, I wasn’t the only one who brought a dish. The grill was still lit, but instead of Dr. Slater flipping the burgers, it was another man dressed in a chef’s coat. Catered barbecue? My dad would never.
I found a few folks from the clinic standing together at the other end of the yard and I made my way over. “Monica?” one of the residents said. Maybe because I’m hardly ever seen outside of the clinic. “Wow.” Or because I was able to pull myself together and I looked like I stepped out of a fashion magazine. “You look amazing,” she said. The others standing around agreed.
“Thank you,” I smiled. “Who knew Dr. Slater would gather such a large crowd,” I said eyeing the groups of people around us.
Leigh side-eyed me and said, “You know he’s being honored at UC.” She pointed out a few of the advisors from our program who I hadn’t noticed earlier. “Otherwise, this place may have been light.” Leigh and I met during our first year at UC, and although we didn’t hit it off initially, she grew on me over the years. Unlike me, she had a different approach to school; she procrastinated with studying till absolutely necessary for any and all of our exams. That gave her more time to be social, and know things like Dr. Slater being honored.
I had been sampling the potato salad as I was making it but that had long worn off, and the hunger was getting the best of me. When Susan finally announced that the food was ready, I beat most of the crowd to the table. The barbecue didn’t look half bad, but to be prepared by a chef I expected the taste to be beyond comparison. I skipped over some of the other homemade dishes because I had seen plenty of patients with food poisoning and I wanted no parts in that, just in case these folks couldn’t cook, or the food had been sitting out for too long.
My plate was adequately stocked and I found a seat nearby. I took a bite of the rib then looked around for the chef; he deserved a kiss. I’d have to call my dad and tell him after all these years of raving about his barbecue I found someone who could put him to shame. I kept an eye on the table, hoping there’d be enough for me to have seconds, or even a to-go plate.
Barbecue sauce was spread all over my hands and probably my mouth as Leigh ranted about her next rotation that would be away from Sacramento. “Maybe I’ll run into a celebrity down in L.A. while I’m there,” she said. Leigh looked like she’d fit right in with the L.A. crowd. Even in her scrubs she always had her hair curled and face made to perfection. She always found time to go to the gym, and her waist was proof of her hard work.
“I don’t even know what I’d say to a celebrity if I saw one,” I said as I finished the last of my ribs. “But if you do meet one, make sure you take pics.” I wiped my hands off and looked at my watch; it was getting close to nine and I needed to return to my books.
Before I could stand and exit the barbecue, Dr. Slater came by our table with Susan nearby. “Hello, glad you all could make it out.” He eyed my empty plate, including my clean rib bones, and said, “I hope you enjoyed the food.” I couldn’t even respond, I just smirked as he introduced us to his wife. “This is Michelle.” Michelle? She definitely looked and acted more like a Susan. When he introduced her as Michelle I imagined my forever First Lady, and Susan was no Michelle Obama.
But she was kind enough to smile after she said, “Thank you all for coming, I hope you will come out more often. Now that it’s getting warm we can enjoy the backyard.” She waved her hand across their expansive backyard and something about the way she said ‘our’ made me cringe.
I stopped Dr. Slater and Michelle before they disappeared to thank them for the invite. “Compliments to the chef, the food was amazing.”
Dr. Slater nodded before he said, “Aren’t you glad you were able to sneak away from the books for a bit?” He was right. Those ribs were worth the extra hours I’d need to stay awake to make up for my missed hours of study time. Besides the meal, the entire entree in front of me was definitely worth my time. Dr. Slater looked damn good in his shirt and tie in the clinic, but in his casual wear he looked good enough to have for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I smiled at Michelle as I walked away from the couple. She may not be Michelle Obama, but she was one lucky ass wife to have him all to herself. I could only imagine what Pilates moves she laid on him every night. The thought alone made me shiver.
On the ride home I thought of Dr. Slater and a hand drifted between my thighs. With the other hand steady on the wheel, I rubbed my clit through my dress. Rubbing it in a circular motion, I found it hard to reach my peak.
Frustrated, I moved my hand back to the wheel and maintained the ten and two till I pulled into my apartment complex. If meeting Susan in person killed my Dr. Slater fantasy, I’d be doomed. I had never been one to chase after a married man, and until today, my thoughts of him were only used to get me off. But my conscience was too innocent to even let me play that game.
If I had to make it through the rest of my fourth year, plus my residency, I’d definitely need someone else to fantasize about.
Chapter 3
The speaker at the seminar was so dry I found myself nodding before it was all over. I didn’t realize the patients kept my day moving. Before I left the clinic I saw a ten-year-old girl who was having breathing issues. I felt bad when we told her she had to take a break from running, her favorite hobby, while we monitored her lungs. The look on her face nearly broke my heart. Another reason I couldn’t do pediatrics, my empathy for kids was relentless. Delivering hard news to adults wasn’t nearly as difficult.
During the break, I stocked up on caffeine. I’d need it to make it through the remaining four hours of the seminar. While I filled my cup, I ran into Jackson. “Monica,” he said as I tried to turn and walk back into the auditorium. Jackson and I attended L.U. together, taking most of the same classes. He was not like most of the other dudes at L.U.; he was pretentious, like his shit didn’t stink. He ended up at Stanford for medical school, and that was definitely a good fit for him.
“Jackson,” I said with a tight grin. “What are you doing in Sacramento?” I looked behind him at the other attendees still crowded in the lobby.
“I came up from Stanford”—of course he would name-drop his school. Prick— “for the seminar.” He told me about his favorite parts of the seminar, ones I must have missed while I nodded, and I scanned his outfit. His starched slacks and button-down shirt, the uniform of most med students. “Dinner tonight?”
“Hmm...” Did he just ask me to dinner?
“Since I’m in your area, thought it’d be a good idea to catch up over dinner.” Attendees had started going back to the auditorium. Jackson held out his phone and said, “Can I have your number and I’ll give you a call so we can coordinate a place to meet?”
I hesitated before giving him my number. “I’ll let you know. I have a few diagnoses I need to study for a patient.”
His eyes lit up and he responded, “We can discuss them together, two birds one stone.”
“Sure.” I smiled. If I could help my patient, and avoid small talk while I eat, that would be a win. We both walked back into the auditorium where I tried to listen more carefully to the speaker who sounded like the teacher from Ferris Bueller. I waited for the moment he’d say, ‘Anyone, Anyone.’
Because Jackson was in my city he insisted I select the restaurant. I didn’t have many options because I rarely sat down for dinner. I asked him if he’d like to try my favorite Thai spot, and I was glad when he said he loved Thai food.
We sat across from each other and I ordered my favorite dish. When the hostess walked by I caught her face when she realized it was me. She smiled a familiar smile the next time she passed. “So this is your favorite restaurant?” Jackson asked. I couldn’t tell if he was skeptical because it wasn’t a five-star restaurant, but I nodded enthusiastically anyway.
“Yup, I order take-out from here a few times a week,” I added. “How are you liking you
r rotation?”
“Internal medicine is broad enough, and the clinic I’m at is a highly rated clinic in the area. It’s launched many award-winning doctors.” I had to listen to him rant about the clinic, the doctors, the program. Finally, the food arrived and ended his rant.
We discussed my patient, and I took notes on different diagnoses as he provided his feedback. “Children are tough,” I said with a sigh.
“I agree. I’d prefer adults, and I’m not looking forward to my pediatric rotation.” He smiled widely. “But at least you’ve finished, and maybe”—he leaned in to the table like he was about to tell me a secret—“you can help me get through it.”
I didn’t want to be rude considering he helped me with my patient, but I expected our interaction to end after this dinner. “Sure,” I said, hoping the waitress would save me. I scanned the restaurant to give her the signal that we were ready for the check, but she was nowhere to be found.
“Have you had time to date since being here?” he asked. Jackson seemed like a guy who would want to have a trophy wife who didn’t work and stayed at home waiting on him hand and foot.
“Not really,” I said with a scrunched nose. “What about you?” I asked, hoping he’d tell me he’d found the one and he would have no interest in me. I didn’t want this to get any more awkward than it needed to be.
His lips formed into a frown and he said, “I was still dating Bianca when I moved out here, but the distance was too much for both of us. We broke up a few months ago.” I remembered Bianca from L.U. From what I knew of her, she was cool. Beautiful, dark-skinned girl with a petite body. “Haven’t tried to date out here.” He looked around before adding, “The girls are a bit too much for me. I’d rather had found an HBCU grad, someone down to earth.” Had I been taking a sip of my drink I would have sprayed it out onto the table.
“Oh okay,” I said, my voice hitching as I tried to stop myself from laughing. “There may be an HBCU grad somewhere out here for you.” I felt heat rising on my neck as he stared at me. I wasn’t trying to meet his stare so I looked around the restaurant again, finally signaling the waitress. “We should get going,” I said as the waiter placed the bill on the table. I laid my card down before he could offer to pay.
He touched his chest before laughing. “Sorry, I may have made you a little uncomfortable,” he said as he stopped the waitress handing her his card. “My treat though.”
I thanked him and we agreed to keep in touch as he walked me to my car. I sat in the seat as I watched him cross the lot to his own car. I considered what a relationship with Jackson would be like and as I thought of matching outfits and dinners with classical music in the background, I shamed myself for being too critical. Maybe he’d be decent.
Before I started my car I looked up to the bar, where I met Nick. Now that my diagnoses review was over, I might as well just have a glass of wine before bed. I looked in the direction Jackson walked to make sure he wasn’t still lingering before I opened my car door and walked towards the entrance to the bar.
The vibe was much different, almost energetic. The music was louder, although the song being played was more pop less hip hop, it had folks swaying to the beat. The crowd was diverse. I saw men and women of all shades as I took my seat at the bar. I hoped Nick was on duty, but then remembered last time I was in it was the start of the weekend and earlier in the day.
“What can I get for you?” I heard as I looked up into the bright blue eyes of a guy with blonde hair swooped over his left eye. Eccentric for sure.
“I’ll have a glass of Moscato,” I said with confidence.
“I got it,” I heard closely behind him. “I was hoping you’d be back,” he said with his thick accent after he placed my glass of Moscato on the bar.
“You happen to be right next to my favorite restaurant,” I said before realizing it may have been offering too much.
“Lucky for us.” He winked before taking the order of the couple sitting beside me.
I sipped my glass of wine slowly as I watched the crowd around me. The couple beside me caught my ear as they bantered back and forth. I guessed they were in a relationship, and not just dating, from the ease of their conversation.
Nick passed a few times and I got an eyeful of his build, his biceps bulged from his short sleeve shirt, and his waist was trim. I liked my men big so they could handle all my thickness. I liked to be held up against a wall when I was having sex. But Nick looked like he could handle me.
When my glass was empty I opened my bag to pull out a twenty when another glass of wine appeared. I looked up to Nick who was taking my empty glass and he said, “I think you’ll like this more than the Moscato.” I noticed the pour was half of my last glass. “Just a taste so you can order it next time.”
We didn’t drink much wine in college, but since being in California I had visited a winery or two and learned the proper way to taste wine. I practiced the five S’s, as I tasted the wine in front of me. I didn’t want him to think I was an inexperienced drinker.
I held the glass in front of me and took note of the darker hue of the wine, it was still a white, and I was glad because I was not ready to venture off into red wines. I held the glass by the neck and swirled it around, and it was heavier than my beloved Moscato. A lemon scent lasted after I sniffed the glass. I looked up to Nick before I took a sip, and he was right, it was sweet and surprisingly fresh.
“And what’s the name of this magical wine?” I asked after I savored the sip.
He didn’t answer immediately, and I thought he couldn’t hear me over the music. Just as I was about to repeat myself he said, “Violetta. It’s made here in Cali.” A smile crept over his lips and he added, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” I heard what he said but my eyes were focused on his lips. The way he licked them had me wanting a taste of him.
The blue-eyed boy band member walked up beside him and said, “Nick, dude you good?” Causing him to look away from me. He appeared agitated by the interruption. “I need to grab a bottle, and there are a couple of people who just sat at the other end. Could you catch them?”
Before he walked away he looked back to me and said, “Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.”
Only if he caught me at the restaurant next door. I couldn’t make a habit of these bar visits. As much as I’d love to sit across from him and take part in a stare down, unless he was willing to take me on top of that bar, it’d be detrimental to my pussy.
“Soon,” I said anyway. I added a twenty to the bar next to my glass and hurried out of there before my thoughts became actions.
Chapter 4
I closed my book and removed my reading glasses. After a hot shower I climbed into the bed, and instead of drifting to sleep I laid awake looking at the ceiling. It had been weeks since I visited the bar. I had even changed up my take-out routine so I wasn’t tempted to go next door. I was frequenting the taqueria near the office instead, but it didn’t keep Nick from my mind. Each night I’d place my rabbit between my legs and think of him as I reached my peak.
If my walls were any thinner my neighbor would have probably thought Nick crept into my apartment in the middle of the night and out before she could see him. The way I moaned his name was as if he were right there, delivering each minute of ecstasy himself.
I grabbed my rabbit and powered it on, letting it warm up before moving it between my thighs. With my head back ready to enjoy the pleasure, I felt the buzzing in my hand stop. I sat up and looked down at my faithful rabbit. I clicked it on, then off, shook it, hell I even blew on it just in case that would ignite the battery, all with no luck.
My rabbit had died. I turned on my bedside lamp and slung open the drawer that held Mr. Wonderful himself. I shuffled all the unnecessary papers around searching for another set of batteries. Nothing. Not a single one.
I went out to the living room, found my remote on the table and opened the back, but the batteries were the wrong size. I slammed it down, then felt bad ‘cause it was
n’t the remote that had failed me but my rabbit. I walked slowly back to my room, my head hanging low.
I’d have to grab batteries while at the store the next day, and I may even need to make a Costco trip to get the largest pack of triple A batteries they had. Reluctantly, I closed my eyes and tossed from side to side before I finally drifted to sleep.
Saturday morning, I woke with a slight attitude. I looked to my nightstand and saw Mr. Wonderful sitting there, pitiful. I stretched and stepped out of bed to jump into my books for a few hours.
That night I was ready for a redo of Friday night, my nightstand was packed with triple A batteries, and Mr. Wonderful was back to his energetic self. He was buzzing.
Before I indulged myself in pleasure I had to fill my belly. Fortunately, I packed my refrigerator with food. I opened the door and stared at the shelves, but I had no desire whatsoever to cook a meal.
Not that I had money to waste after shopping for groceries and a family pack of batteries, but I decided I’d rather have Pad Thai. I didn’t call in my order like usual, instead I drove across town and walked into the restaurant placing my to-go order.
“Twenty minutes,” the hostess announced. I nodded and walked out of the restaurant, right next door. I guess I was craving more Nick and less Pad Thai, but I had to lie to myself.
There was a live band in a corner of the room, and as I tried to listen to the words of the cover song they were playing, I realized the blue-eyed bartender was the lead singer. Of course. I walked to the bar and took a seat, hoping Nick would be ready and waiting to serve me a glass of Violetta.
When I saw him leaning over the bar picking up an empty glass, I smiled. He turned his head in my direction and his green eyes landed on me. I readied myself for his presence, and when he approached he asked, “Alabama, long time no see.” I bit my lip and he responded with a, “Hmph.”
