by Lexy Timms
Brant rose next to her. “No, this room’s never been used. I think my mother had some kind of plan for it once to use it as a dressing room of sorts; the closet is so deep, but it wasn’t really convenient to anything. That’s why we put your things here until you could go through them.”
Mel glanced around. The attached bathroom seen through the open door maybe wasn’t as large as that in some of the rooms, but the tub looked deep and inviting. The room certainly had possibilities.
A blank canvas.
“Let’s take this room!” Mel said, jumping to her feet, and going to peer into the closet which was approximately the size of her office back in Belize. “Give your mother the master suite and let’s make this our place.”
“It’s a lot smaller…” he said with one eyebrow up, leaning back on one elbow to watch her.
“Smaller than a hut?” Mel halted her exploration of the bathroom and stopped in the doorway, hands on hips. “What?” she laughed. “You’ll go live in hut in Belize but you won’t take a smaller room in your own home?” She refrained from adding that the suite was about the same size as her first apartment.
Brant laughed. “All righty, you win! But is it okay if I ask why?”
“Because… there’s nothing of me in that large room. There’s a lot of you, there’s a lot of your parents, but nothing of me. Maybe here we can make this room ours.”
Brant looked at her for a long moment, then nodded, decisively. “Our first place then,” he said and took her proffered hand, allowing her to draw him to his feet. “The rent’s a tad high, but for you I’ll take it!”
She laughed and drew him to the bed, where she sat down facing him, her knees on either side of him. She grinned wickedly as she lay back, spreading her legs for him. “I say we make it official. What do you think?”
“I think someone’s going to be sore in the morning.” His cock was already hard again.
“Hell,” Mel said with a sly smile, “If either of us can walk come morning, I’ll be very disappointed.
He slid into her, and this time was as gentle as the last was rough. Where earlier the passion had ruled and taken the lust between them, now he made love, tenderly, softly. Thoroughly. His kisses as he buried himself in her, the tender touches, even the slight experimental phase that wasn’t entirely unsuccessful were done in a different time, a time out of time.
They made love, rested, and talked. She babbled, he listened, they made love again, trying new things and laughing when it didn’t go exactly as it did in that stack of romance novels that Mel hid in her suitcase said it would.
They passed the entire night that way, neither of them seeking sleep because it meant time away from each other, and that was intolerable.
Soon the orgasms waned as fatigue set in. By the time the sun proved that the curtains in “their” room were filmy, flimsy things, they’d both passed out. They were still entangled, limbs around limbs, her mouth on his chest.
The sun rose late and the city rose on tiptoe as the two lovers lay wrapped together, their bodies merged and touched and separated again.
Lying on top of the open box as the sunlight stole through the shades, Carmen was smiling from her picture. But, ironically, she was staring at the wall.
Chapter 5
Mel woke slowly, feeling languorous and insanely happy. Brant was still there, wrapped around her, fast asleep. It had only been a few hours of rest, but the sweet efforts they’d made before falling asleep still left her body tingling, and she swallowed against the rawness of her throat. She’d been slightly vocal last night.
Brant cracked one eye open and then an eyebrow rose. “You’re staring at me,” he mumbled into the pillow.
“Definitely.” Mel let her eyes rove over his chest and lifted the sheet to look lower. “I like the way you look.”
Brant grunted, and then chuckled. It was a deep sound from his chest, and his hand reached up to stroke her face. “Good morning,” he said, and half closed his eyes again.
“Good morning,” she whispered back. “Go back to sleep. You’ve not had much.”
He rolled over instead and lifted his head to look around. From the expression on his face, he didn’t have any idea where he was. Finally, he shook his head, closed his eyes and relaxed, lying back down again, one arm wrapping around her waist again.
“Brant,” Mel said softly against his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I just… I panicked.”
“‘Panicked’?” The word was mumbled. Sleepy.
“I think I was feeling sorry for myself and…” She shifted so that her cheek was resting against his. “…I don’t want to run away anymore. I ran to Belize once, that’s enough.”
He slowly rose on his elbows to look at her. When he smiled, it was soft and tender. Not an ounce of tiredness on his face. “I’m proud of you. And you should be proud of yourself. You’ve accomplished a lot, Mel. It’s pretty amazing what you’ve done. And,” he winked as he licked his lips, “there’s nothing to run from. Even my mother isn’t invincible.”
“I do like her, I really do.” Mel said, and grimaced a little. “She just has a way of making me feel like I don’t belong in here—in her world.”
“She makes me feel that way.” Brant chuckled gently, and reached up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “She really does like you, and she respects all that you’ve done. But I think you intimidate her a little.”
Mel couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. “I intimidate her? Brant, a rampaging gorilla holding a nuclear warhead in his teeth couldn’t intimidate her!”
Even Brant had to laugh at that. “I feel sorry for the gorilla who tries. But think about it. You’re highly educated, you’ve dug a hole in the jungle and created a working clinic. You outed Kenneth and his theft. My mother didn’t finish college; she made a career out of pretending to be people who did remarkable things. She married my father who was a wizard with money and movies, but what has she herself done? To her, making movies is all play, and if you ask her she’d tell you that she’s accomplished nothing real at all.”
Mel stared at him in surprise as she considered this. It didn’t seem possible. A successful woman like her? Then again, don’t we all have our insecurity belts? “But her world is your world. If we’re going to be married—when we’re married, I’m going to have to learn to live in her world, won’t I?”
“You need to learn to survive her world in small pieces,” Brant corrected her. “My world has always been my work. I’ve gotten some clients based on her name, but for the most part I don’t spend a lot of time with the movie people.”
Mel cupped his face, lifting her eyes to meet his. “Tell me honestly: is she going to take over the wedding?”
Brant looked confused, as though he was trying to sort something out and thinking out loud. “She’s got this idea that we shouldn’t wait.” He shrugged and kissed her. “And you know, I agree with that. I can’t wait to have a beautiful wife.”
Somewhat mollified Mel sighed a little, and strengthened her resolve to hang in there a bit longer. “All right. I promise to try to play nice. I won’t let her bully me or make me feel stupid.”
“Good. She’s not a bully, really. She’s more insistent. Heavily insistent.” Brant shifted so he could bury his face in her belly and blew a raspberry. Mel squealed and pushed him away, laughing. “I understand that today is a ‘women-only’ day.”
Mel fell backwards, away from him, pulling the pillow over her face. “Don’t remind me.”
“Now, don’t fuss, you said you’d try…” Brant scolded, pulling the pillow away and kissing her noisily.
“You’re gone again? All day?” Running away seemed more appropriate.
“My love, as much as I would love to go around and watch as you try on clothing in shops that have no chairs for me to sit in, I do have some things to do.”
“Wait, what? She’s having me try on wedding dresses?” Part of her was mortified that they might see her scars. But a sma
ll part was happy she didn’t have to go alone.
“From what I understand, Mother and Gloria and … what’s her name…?”
“Trudy.”
“Right. They want to help you with your red dress issue.”
Mel sat up and groaned. He was serious. Why hadn’t she guessed they wouldn’t leave that horrible issue alone. “I suppose they planned that while I was in the bathroom at the restaurant. Is my life just up for public discussion now?”
“They were discreet. No one else at the table knew what they were talking about.”
“I suppose jeans and t-shirt aren’t exactly right for the high-end functions?” Mel muttered, knowing she sounded childish.
“Only if you’re putting in the garden.” He stood and groaned. “Remember what you said last night about being able to walk in the morning? You don’t have to worry.” He smiled as he rolled over and stretched. “My personal trainer has given me less rigorous workouts.” He stood and walked across the room to retrieve his pajama bottoms from the floor, and frowned comically when he realized they were in tatters. “In the meantime, until we move things down here, I need to shower and dress in our old room. If I can figure out how to get there without shocking the help.” He leaned over and kissed her deeply. “Try to enjoy the day, okay? Think of it like exploring the customs of a primitive culture.” He looked down at himself, shrugged, and headed to the door stark naked. “Come to think of it, most rich people I know fall into that category rather easily.”
Mel snorted, not caring how unladylike it was.
“Oh.” He paused with one hand on the doorknob. “Also, do you have anyone you want to be in the wedding? Mother wanted me to ask. Maybe someone from Belize? We can fly in anyone you like if they have a passport.”
“It took DI three months to steamroll a visa for Maria,” Mel answered, sitting up and grabbing the shirt she’d worn last night. “Without any political pressure it could take six, maybe a year. Besides…” she shrugged. “who would I ask?”
“I love you, my soon-to-be-wife.”
Mel smiled. “I love you, you coward.”
“Coward? Me? I’ll have you know it takes a brave man to streak from here…”
“Wait…what?”
But Brant had already opened the door, leaned out to spy out the lay of the land, and then left at high speed, door banging shut behind him.
Mel collapsed against the pillows, giggling. But soon enough, even imagining Alice’s face should Brant run into her on his way back to the room couldn’t carry her mood for long. She stared at the ceiling, and ran through a mental rolodex of people she’d known. No one came to the surface and volunteered to be her maid-of-honor or bridesmaid, or even flower girl. Dragging Maria back here was impractical; she need to stay quiet and heal.
She scrambled for the picture she’d found last night. Carmen? The nurses? It had been a professional relationship with them all, not really personal. She traced the faces that smiled up at her, the handmade sign they held. Okay, maybe that relationship was a little bit personal. But not close enough to drag all the way to America for the sake of a wedding ceremony.
And she’d lost touch with most of her friends in school after the accident. Missing a year and then going back, she’d been in a different class. Everyone had moved on without her, and she’d been intent only on finishing out what she needed to in order to graduate. And let’s face it, she’d been hiding, not wanting to build new relationships when she’d still been hurting. Healing.
Let’s be honest, you got very good at hiding.
But then, people you weren’t close to, couldn’t hurt you, could they?
She put on her shorts and t-shirt and headed to the master bedroom. She could hear Brant in the shower, so he’d apparently made it back without incident. He was singing something off-key that sounded suspiciously like Adele, and didn’t even want to ask where he was pulling the high notes from. She shook her head and found her phone and retreated the way she’d come.
Mel paused in the doorway and looked into the sanctuary in white that was soon to become their room.
This will be my home.
This, too, was a thought to explore. While they could repaint the walls, change out the furniture, create this as their space in whatever way they wanted, the house was still not theirs. This home would never truly be theirs. She would never feel comfortable making changes in the living room. Or kitchen. Or wherever. Even when Linda returned to Paris, it wouldn’t change the fact that this wasn’t really theirs.
It was a thought that made her uneasy. Unsure. But if they moved, where would they go? A different house here in L.A.? Somewhere else? The whole thing left her with the feeling that the moment you’d unraveled one problem, another dozen would crop up in its place. A hydra of imperfect thinking.
Take one thing at a time. Do what’s in front of you. Sort the rest out later.
She settled herself in the chair by the window, drawing her feet up under her and dialed a number.
“Clinic.” The greeting came so abruptly Mel wasn’t altogether sure she’d heard it.
Mel sighed and shook her head. “Carmen, how many times do I have to tell you, you need to identify the clinic so people know who they called.”
“And how many times do I have to tell you that a) there is no other clinic in the area within a hundred kilometers or more and b) anyone stupid enough to call a clinic and not know which one they called is too stupid to talk to and a waste of my time. Now, how may I direct your call?”
Hard to argue with that. Mel found herself smiling, though she suspected she shouldn’t be. “It’s good to hear your voice, too, Carmen. How’s the clinic running?”
Carmen sniffed. “By the skin of its teeth, Doctor. Your replacement is packing up, not that it would be a great loss, but we do need at least one person on site with an advanced medical degree. He doesn’t do much, but at least he has the right initials at the end of his name.”
Mel sat up so fast her feet hit the floor with a THWUMP. “Wait, what do you mean? He’s quitting? Have you heard who’s replacing him?”
“No one is replacing him, Doctor. And he’s not exactly ‘quitting’ either. You can’t quit a job when the people you work for no longer exist. Apparently, Doctors International isn’t paying the bills anymore, nor any of our salaries either. The last time we got paid might be the last time we get paid. Frankly, I’m surprised that the phones are still working.”
“Wait.” Mel felt her throat tighten. It was hard to breathe. “Wait… I don’t understand.”
“Apparently,” Carmen’s tone softened a little. Her best bedside manner, Mel realized. “…when the head of DI was arrested, no one wanted to donate anything to a corrupt organization. All the clinics are shutting down.”
“Oh, shit.” Mel’s hands were shaking. What have I done? Crap! What’ve I done?
“This one’s shutting, too,” Carmen said flatly. “We have enough of the budget to last another six weeks. Then we’re closing the doors.”
“What did Dr. Masterson say?” He had to be back working.
“Dr. Masterson made it clear on his return that he was a doctor, not an administrator. Therefore, others had to step in and maintain the high quality of community service.”
“You?”
There was a pause. “Me.” Carmen admitted. “I’ve been in charge here since you left.”
“What about The Greens?” Mel asked, grasping at straws. “The resort?”
“I’m familiar with the name of the resort.” Carmen reprimanded her, her acerbic tone back in full force. “That’s why we’re getting another six weeks. Without their support, we’d be gone in two.”
Mel looked frantically around the room, as if to find something to sell and send the proceeds. Here she was, in the middle of a mansion, in the lap of luxury and surrounded by money, while her clinic, her baby, was floundering half a world away. “I’ll think of something,” she promised, though she had no idea what to do. Her own
bank account had maybe three digits on the balance on the left side of the zero. If she was lucky.
“Doctor,” Carmen chastised, her voice gentler than she’d ever heard it. “It’s not your responsibility.”
“I’m the one who blew the whistle,” Mel whispered, barely able to force the words out.
“And I’m the one who gave you the whistle to blow. But I have a life. So do you.” She paused. “Go live yours. Move on.”
Mel swallowed. She nodded, as though the woman could see her. “Maybe this clinic is part of the life I choose,” she said quietly, though she had no idea how she was going to do it.
Carmen held her silence.
“How… how is everybody?”
“One moment, please,” Carmen said, soft edges erased. You could almost hear her staring at the wall. Mel had no idea if she’d said the right thing or not.
Then there came a sound of scrambling. High-pitched voices and several thumps that might have been a phone falling on the desk. Another thud, then, “DOCTOR MEL!” Tina squealed in her ear.
In the background Mel could hear Angelica repeating, “Give me the phone! Give me the phone!”
Mel smiled.
Home. It was, wasn’t it?
She really should call home more often.
Chapter 6
My life has turned into a yo-yo. One minute I’m all for running away from here, the next I’m begging Brant to stay and start our life together. I want to leave, he offers to go, and then I want to stay. Then, she sighed as she tried organizing her thoughts, I talk to Carmen and suddenly I wish I was back home helping. Dammit! What is home anyway? And what’s wrong with me? Why does it feel like everything’s about to go so horribly wrong? Why can’t I just be happy?
Mel held the phone in her hand for a long time, staring at it as though it would suddenly change its mind and admit that everything was okay after all. She clutched it tightly wishing it would all make sense, that everything would be the way it was.