The Surgeon’s Secrets

by Michelle Love

  The reporter is back on the screen, as I seem to have lost the ability to take in air. “That was a bit earlier tonight. By the look in those two’s eyes, I’m sure some intense and intimate celebrating is probably still going on with them even now. Meow, they’re one hot couple!”

  Fuck me! She’s done it to me this time!

  To be continued …

  Casanova’s Coach Part Two

  Chapter 1

  BRITTANY

  It’s been an hour since I talked to Jason, who said he was a mere fifteen minutes away. My calls have all gone straight to voicemail and my texts aren’t even being read. I have no idea what the man is doing.

  I’m beginning to feel like a damn fool as I lie here on the sofa, strategically positioned and wearing a daring little negligee I put on just for him. Something’s happened. I know it has.

  Maybe a wreck!

  The not knowing is killing me. I guess I should get dressed and go over to his place to see if he’s there for some damn reason. But just as I get up off the sofa, I remember a few other nights this exact same thing happened.

  Back down I go and grab my glass of celebratory champagne I poured us two flutes of. I was going to show him the trophy I won today.

  Instead of showing it to him, I pick it up too and sit back, alone with my drink and my prize.

  Too many nights I’ve spent alone. Too many times I’ve let myself get excited about a life with Jason Brennan.

  The lamp next to me reflects its dim light on the gold of the trophy. Best book cover for the entire year is what I won. My work is very rewarding. But my love life isn’t.

  I think it’s time to call in a ringer. If Jason isn’t going to show up, then I need to move on. And drinking alone while staring at this trophy won’t help a thing.

  My phone screen lights up and I nearly toss the things in my hand away to answer it. I stop short, as I see it’s my mom. “Hi, Mom. It’s late. Is everything okay?”

  “No, it’s not.” Her words stop my heart.

  “What’s happened?” I manage to get out.

  “You won an award and told no one about it! That’s what’s wrong. Brittany Caldwell, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  I ponder that question for a moment before I answer. I’d like to know what the hell is wrong with me, too. “The hell if I know, Mom.”

  Her voice is threaded with tension as she says, “Baby girl, you’re not involving us in any part of your life anymore. If we’d have known you were even up for that award, then we’d have been there for you. Don’t you know that?”

  “My agent had forgotten to tell me about the ceremony. I had no idea about it until three hours before it happened. I’m sorry. Things are busy here in New York.” I drink the rest of my champagne down and look at the wall and wonder why it is that I’m always so damn busy.

  “Britt, let me come see you, baby girl. Let me come see what’s going on in your life.” She seems to be begging me.

  “What about Dad? You can’t leave him behind.” I place the empty glass on the coffee table, pick up the one I poured for Jason, and take a drink out of it.

  Seems I’m going to get drunk alone and most likely fall asleep right here on this sofa, also alone.

  “We’ll both come, if that’s what you want. I just want you to know you have a family who cares about you. We love you, Brittany. You seem to forget you have a family.”

  The guilt begins to creep in, and I don’t often allow that to happen. “No, Mom. I’m fine.” I stand up and try to get my bearings.

  I don’t let people get to me. Yesterday I was a strong woman with no worries. In less than twenty-four hours, thanks to Jason and his psychoanalysis of me, I’ve pushed away the walls surrounding my heart and now my mind is even going soft, too.

  “No, you are not,” she says with a calm tone.

  “You know what? That’s the second time I’ve been told that in the last two days. I fell for that shit last night and I’m not falling for it again.” I stride over to the window in the living room with my million-dollar view of the East River and continue my rant. “That award I won was a thing I did on my own. No one was around to help me brainstorm that cover. No one was there in my corner rooting for me.”

  “And whose fault is that?” she asks me.

  “I’m not saying it’s anyone’s fault, Mom. I’m just saying, I did all that on my own. I am fine. I am more than fine. The way I’ve been living my life has worked out for me. Maybe keeping to one’s self doesn’t work for everyone, but it does for me. So please stop worrying about me.”

  “Who was that man you were with on the television, Brittany?” Mom asks. “You two looked like you were in love, yet you haven’t told me a thing about even being in a relationship.”

  “Huh?” I ask as I lean my head on the thick window pane and stare blankly out the window at the lights and the way they reflect off the river’s surface. “On television?”

  “You were on a little newsreel. You were at the awards ceremony with some very handsome man. It was your award they showed. How come you never told us about that man? Who is he and when can we meet him?” she asks and I am still very confused.

  Damn champagne!

  I shake my head to clear it. “There was footage of that?”

  “Yes. Now who is that man, baby girl? I’m not about to let you off this phone until you divulge some information about this guy.”

  “The man I was with is just a guy I take to things like that. He looks good in photos and on camera. We look good together. He knows it’s just an act. That’s all that was, an act.”

  I nearly fall down as I realize Jason must’ve seen that too. That has to be why he didn’t show up.

  “That didn’t look like an act, Brittany. How come you won’t talk to me and tell me what’s going on?” she asks, making me feel kind of crappier than I feel already.

  “Here’s the truth, Mom. And get ready not to like it.” I sit back down on the sofa. “Jason came back into my life last night.”

  “Who?” she asks, as if she’s never heard that name before.

  “Jason Brennan.”

  “No!”

  Her one word tells me exactly what I knew. My parents will never be on board with Jason.

  “Now, Mom …”

  Her shrill voice interrupts me. “Brittany Elain Caldwell, that man humiliated this entire family with what he did that night. The neighbors still talk about him. No way in hell are you going to have anything to do with that boy!”

  “Mom!” I yell to get her to shut up. “Listen to me. Jason is not a boy any longer. He’s a grown man. And now that you told me about me being on television, I think I might have hurt him by taking that other man to the award ceremony. So I need to get off here and go find him and explain things to him.”

  “He’s mad at you?” she asks. “How the hell can he be mad at you for going to an award ceremony with another man when he did that awful sex act with that whore three doors down from you? What a piece of complete shit! Brittany, stay away from him. If he is mad, then great. Let him stay away from you. Baby girl, he is not the man for you.”

  I lean back onto the soft leather of the sofa and look up at the ceiling as tears fill my eyes. “If he isn’t the man for me, then why is he the only man my body responds to?”

  “Your body isn’t what matters. It’s your mind that matters. Follow your head, not your heart. That man is heartbreak, and that’s all he is. You know that, Britt. Be thankful you did take that other guy and Jason saw that. Be glad it’s over before he had a chance to hurt you again.” She lets out a breath after her lecture and it fills my ear.

  I close my eyes, not knowing what the hell to do. “Mom, I heard your words. I have to go.”

  “Don’t even try to call that boy, baby girl. Promise me,” she begs.

  “Mom, I can’t …”

  “No! Promise me you’ll let him go. He almost killed you last time. He mangled your heart, sweetie. Don’t give him the c
hance to finish you off. I’d like to see you be able to trust a man again. I tell you what. Let me set you up on one of those dating sites. I can find you a good man.”

  “No, Mom.” I let out a sigh and find my heart is still aching. “I have to go. I love you. Tell Dad that for me too, would you?”

  “We love you too, Brittany. Now do as I’ve told you. Let Jason go. You’ll be so sorry if you don’t.”

  “Bye, Mom.” I end the call before she can say another word.

  I know she means well. I really do. But she has no idea of how many men I’ve been with, and none of them come close to comparing to what I feel when I’m with Jason.

  The sound of his voice earlier on the phone filled me with something I never feel except with him. And now I know I’ve hurt him and I want to kick my own ass.

  Going to my bedroom, I look for something to put on. I have to get over to his house and tell him what the real story is behind that little scene he must’ve seen on television.

  I know Josh will collaborate my story. But I think Jason’s still going to be upset that I didn’t take him or even tell him about it.

  Now that I think about it, I don’t know why I didn’t ask him to go with me. I’m just so used to asking Josh to those things. I have for the last couple of years, so it was all instinctual.

  I’m not used to being a couple. I'm really not used to having any man think we’re exclusive and that he can get mad because he sees me with someone else. And that was only yesterday, after all. Jason certainly couldn’t have expected me to grasp everything so quickly.

  Tossing off the naughty nighty, I pull a little sundress over my head and slip into a pair of flip flops. Then I head out to catch a cab.

  Just before I get out the door, I open the drawer of the table right beside the door. I keep a few extra keys to my apartment in it. They were there when I got the place and I never saw fit to give one to anyone else.

  Hopefully, the key will help me win what is sure to be an argument. The key, and maybe a little more action, should soothe the beast he has to have become with his jealousy.

  It’s really funny how a man who is such a run around can have such huge jealousies. Then again, most cheaters think everyone cheats, so I guess that would explain that little oddity.

  All I know is, I can’t think about anything but making things right between us. That is so unlike me.

  Who the hell have I become?

  I slip into a cab that’s parked near the apartment building and off I head to see Jason. The lights flash as we pass each one and I see tons of people still out and about.

  Then it hits me that he’s most likely getting drunk and laid right now and if he has a woman at his place, I’m sure to lose my fucking mind.

  Shit! Now what do I do?

  Chapter 2

  JASON

  Two shots down and three to go, I sit at a bar and try to forget all about Brittany Caldwell.

  Her heart really has gone cold. I take the blame for starting that process, but fuck me if she didn’t get exceptionally colder than I ever expected was possible for a woman who can be so sweet, kind, and loving.

  To think she left my bed and went straight to another man is a thing I didn’t think she was capable of. My Brittany is no more. I coached her a little too well.

  She has become a female version of Casanova, and I am to blame for that.

  Some guy sits on the stool next to mine and pulls off his black-framed glasses to clean them. He puts them on and looks me over, then lets out a whistle. “Wow! You look like crap, dude. No offense.”

  Without looking at the guy, I say, “Yeah. Who the hell would take offense at that remark, jackass?”

  “Okay, then, sorry for saying that.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Ryan, and you are clearly miserable.”

  I shake his hand even though I don’t want to. “I’m Jason, and I am pretty displeased with a person I helped create.”

  “Kid troubles?” he asks, as he makes a sign at the bartender to bring him one of what I’m having.

  “No. I don’t have any kids. Woman trouble.” I take one of the shots that are on the bar in front of me.

  The bartender brings him a shot and a couple of beers and puts one in front of me. Ryan smiles. “The beer is on me. Too much whiskey is bad for the soul. So, this woman, tell me about her.”

  “Brittany was my first love. We were kids then, and she was innocent and sweet and I fucked her up in ways I didn’t know I could.” I take a drink of the beer and notice the difference in the way it smoothly flows down my throat, as opposed to the harsh feeling of the shots I’ve been taking.

  Ryan takes his one shot, then says, “I have me a troublesome Brittany myself. She’s as closed off as they come. It’s a real shame. The woman is smart, gorgeous, and can be very sweet. The problem is, as soon as she realizes she’s showing any humanity, she stops immediately and the next thing you know, she’s gone.”

  My head swivels around to look the man over. He’s dark haired and his face is really scarred up. He looks kind of frumpy in an old Spiderman T-shirt and some faded blue jeans. Not her type at all, but I wonder.

  “What’s your Brittany’s last name?” I ask.

  “Caldwell,” he says, taking the wind completely out of my sails. “She could be the love of my life. If she’d let herself be loved, that is.”

  “That’s my Brittany, too,” I tell him, then drink the entire rest of the beer.

  His eyebrows go way up high as he asks, “What are the chances of that?”

  “From what she told me, pretty good,” I answer as I wave at the bartender to bring me another beer. “The woman has a bunch of guys from what she said.”

  “I know one more,” Ryan says. “A real looker that she takes with her anytime she’s going to something where media will be at. A dude named Josh. I’ve met him. I haven’t met any of the others.”

  I take out my phone and pull up the picture I got off the internet of them at the awards ceremony earlier and show it to him. “Is this him?”

  He looks at it and nods. “Yep, that’s Josh. I met him a few times. I’m her work boyfriend and he’s her awards boyfriend. And which one are you?”

  “I’m not anything to her anymore. I wanted to be her one and only. We’d agreed on that last night. Then she got a call around three this afternoon and the next thing I know, I’m seeing her on the television with this dude.” I take another shot and wish I could deliver the alcohol straight into my veins because the pain is not going away.

  “Wait! What?” he asks as he looks very confused. “She agreed to be with only you? How the fuck did you even get her to do that?”

  “Don’t know,” I slur, as the alcohol is suddenly kicking in. “But don’t worry, she obviously didn’t mean it. She didn’t tell me a thing about going to get that guy and going to get her award.”

  “Whoa, buddy,” he says as he places his hand on my shoulder. “You look a little loopy. I think maybe you’ve had enough.”

  I nod. “I have. I’ve had way more than I can handle. You see, I’m the guy who messes around on women. They don’t mess around on me. Britt thinks I can be played, but I am the one who plays. I don’t know what the hell to do about this.”

  “There isn’t a thing you can do. You said you knew her from your younger days. I don’t know how she was, but I can tell you now she’s not a woman to get serious about. I wish I had better news for you, but I don’t. That woman will be single forever. She’s told me that herself.”

  I look into his eyes, which look very big behind his thick glasses. “You sound like you know her well.”

  He nods. “I’ve been seeing her, if you can all it that, for a few years.”

  “A few years? I saw her for a few years too, back about six years ago. I can’t believe how much she’s changed.” I get off the stool and try to make my way to the bathroom.

  After a couple of stumbling attempts to get my balance, I find the do-gooder who has also had sex with t
he woman I love helping me to the bathroom. “Here, let me help you. I know how hard it is to find out she’s heartless. I stayed drunk for a solid week after I found out. It gets easier. And if this helps you at all, she’s a great lay. Even if she won’t get mentally intimate with you, she’ll fuck the shit out of you.”

  And just like that, he’s made me sick.

  I barely make it into the men’s room before it all comes up. The trash can catches most of it, thankfully. I look up at the guy who can’t be talking about my Brittany and find him frowning at me.

  Moving to the sink, I splash cold water over my face. “You sure we’re talking about the same woman? My Brittany Caldwell is twenty-five, makes book covers for a living. My Brittany is rich. My Brittany …”

  He smiles. “Your Brittany, as you seem to want to think of her, is no one’s Brittany. She’ll tell you that herself. And if she hasn’t yet, she will soon. She isn’t a liar or a cheat. She also isn’t into being anyone’s one and only. The sooner you wrap your head around that, the better off you’ll be.”

  “But I was on my way to her apartment. I was going to spend the night.” I check my reflection and find myself looking haggard, a thing I never look like.

  “You are special. I’ve never been to her apartment. Well, there was that one time, but only for sex. Then she made me leave.” He hands me a handful of paper towels. “Clean up, man. Don’t let her get to you. I know it’s hard, as she is gorgeous and stacked, and I’m sure she treated you real good last night. But that woman isn’t a person to let into your heart. She’s a heartbreaker, buddy.”

  I shake my head. “She wasn’t one until I fucked around on her. She was a good girl. And now you make her sound like a real whore.”

  “Whore?” he asks, as he looks like he’s thinking about it. He shakes his head. “Nah, I wouldn’t call her that. She’s not into fucking everything that walks. She has her select men. I think she told me there’s five or six of us she makes visits to regularly. Now I guess you’ll be added into the rotation. That’ll mean sex less than once a week for me now. But I can’t complain. When she does give me my hour with her, she makes it count.”