Perfection #2

by Claire Adams

  Perfection #2

  By Claire Adams and Shawna Gleason

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 Claire Adams

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  Chapter One

  Lilly

  My head and heart were pounding. I slid my sunglasses over my eyes as I strolled to the cheerful-looking café to meet Bullet. It had a kitschy Parisian motif but thankfully, it didn't look very busy. I wanted nothing more than to go home and rub my temples — just pretend this day and the one before it, never happened. I did not want to be here—but here I was. Bullet, a man who I had been attracted to — who I slept with once, was begging me for a second chance, or at least the opportunity to explain himself. Lying son of a bitch! I could not imagine what he could say to me that would change the way I felt about him right now.

  Kate, my best friend and confidant, practically shoved me out the door to go see him. I think she was as curious as I was to hear what the plastic surgeon had to say for himself. I felt foolish to think that I had even considered trusting him. I mean, all the signs were there that I should run far away—away from his arms and in the opposite direction. Bullet had healthy, silky dark hair and vivid blue eyes. His trim body and self-confidence made him an irresistible "chic magnet" to the women who sought him out for help or crossed his path. How could I be so stupid? Guys like him are always players. They pride themselves in toying with your emotions and other parts of your body and then move on when they get bored. Who cared if his cologne drove me crazy or that his soft lips always tasted like raspberries? Get it together Lilly!

  I wrapped my lightweight trench a little tighter around me and pushed back my oversized sunglasses to the top of my nose. They kept sliding down. I had worn them as a headband one too many times. It was threatening rain but I could see Bullet sitting in the open area of the café, right where he said he would be. He wore a bright blue shirt but thankfully no white lab coat. He was tapping on his phone, probably texting some girl until he looked up and spotted me. He gave me a tentative smile but I did not return it. I was not in a friendly mood. After all he had put me through; he had a lot of nerve looking happy. As I walked into the restaurant and out onto the patio, I slid my glasses up to the top of my head. Bullet stood up and held a chair out for me. I took my seat and stared at him. I arrived with every intention of keeping control of my emotions but just looking at him made me angry all over again.

  "This ought to be pretty good!" I hissed at him. "You better have a damn good reason for asking me to meet you anywhere besides a police station." He winced at my comment and instead of getting cocky, he nodded in agreement with me. Damn! He's not supposed to agree with me.

  "Thank you for coming. I understand you’re angry and you have every reason to be." Bullet's deep voice was soft and comforting. The attractive doctor focused all of his attention on me even though the table beside us was certainly interested in him. That made me even angrier.

  "May I take your order?" An oblivious, young server pulled her pen from her pocket and waited to take our orders.

  "Greek salad for me. What about you, Lilly?"

  "Nothing for me thanks. I'm not very hungry," I growled at him.

  "Are you sure? The fruit salad is delicious; it is sugar-free but tossed in honey. I love it! As a matter of fact, I —"

  I had to interrupt our bubbly server. Not because I did not appreciate her enthusiasm for fruit salad, but because I wanted to stay on track here. I was fuming and I did not want to end up eating a friendly lunch with Dr. Bullet Steinmann. "I will take the fruit salad and a bottle or glass of water. Thank you." Nina, I read on her tag, wrote down my order and smiled at us, proud that she had made a sale.

  Bullet picked up his dialogue as if we had never been interrupted to begin with. "I know what I did was ethically and morally wrong. I should never have put you through the worry that I did. I can assure you that I have never done anything so crazy before. I just—I wanted you to know that I am really sorry." He was not slung back in his chair or looking at me with his trademark head cock and sideways grin. No, he was leaning on his elbows with his hands clasped, giving me an earnest look of regret and repentance. I hadn't expected this but I wasn't falling for the handsome doctor—not twice.

  "It is easy to be sorry when you know you have been caught in a lie. I suspect the only reason you told me was because I told you my doctor was doing blood work. Listen, I do not have time to play games with you. I don’t know what you think we have going here but let me make myself clear — I am done. I called you at first because my friends, Amanda and Kate, told me you were the best. They said that you have never botched a job and that all of your customers trusted in you and loved your work. I just wanted a simple procedure done. I never intended to hook up with you, I sure as hell did not intend to have a relationship with you and now I am even more convinced that either one of those is a bad idea. So I guess what you really want to know is if I'm going to sue you or something. The answer is no. As I said, I am done." I smacked the table with the palm of my hand making the flatware clatter.

  He sighed in frustration. I guess he knew that his "confession" wasn't working on me. "I told you because I wanted you to know the truth. I am not accustomed to telling lies — as you can see, I am not very good at it. Nor do I make it a habit to attempt to change my clients mind about a surgery. I do not make money if I do not do the surgery. Surely you get that." Bullet seemed a little aggravated but not nearly as aggravated as I felt.

  "How do I know what you are thinking or what you usually do? Perhaps this is some kind of weird game for you — a way to control me. Well, I should tell you Dr. Steinmann, Bullet," I leaned forward in my chair and gave him a rueful smile, "I am not the kind of girl that likes being controlled." Nina came back with our drinks, oblivious to our very heated conversation. I noticed that the table next to us was now empty; I absently wondered when the women had left. I hadn't even noticed their departure. The wind was picking up outside. I slid a wayward curl behind my ear.

  After Nina left, Bullet sat back in his chair and stared at me. "I told you why I did it—because I feel like this surgery is not right for you. You have a small frame and an appropriate amount of bosom. There is nothing wrong with you — your body is perfect the way it is. If I did this for you, I would be changing you; probably in more ways than you believe or understand. I have seen it happen again and again, some women change and radically after breast surgery. I did not want this to happen to you."

  My heart raced, my eyes felt moist and my lips were dry. I reached for the sparkling glass of water and took a sip. My headache was still pounding — I hoped my migraine pill would kick in soon. "There are about three things wrong with your reasoning here. First, you do not get to choose how my body looks. You do not get to make that decision. The only thing you are supposed to do is behave like a professional. Second, I do not believe that a minor cosmetic surgery would trigger a major change in my personality. Lastly, I do not care what you want. I want what I want — not what you want. I am a reasonably intelligent woman with a good body image. I am about to graduate college with my degree in music — I am not some downtown hooker or stripper who simply wants an inflated rack to show off to a crowd of cheerin
g sailors! This is the decision I have made after months of careful thought. I have my own money—let me be real here, I am wealthy and I don't have anyone I have to answer to, especially you Bullet. I have made an appointment to see Dr. Amisha, you probably know him. He's good too—damn good. I will not need your services anymore. Now, if that is all you have to say to me..."

  Nina returned and plopped a Greek salad in front of Bullet and a fruit salad in front of me. She smiled at me and said, "Please tell me what you think about it. It is delicious!" She walked away and I stared down at the bowl of fruit in front of me. She was right, it did look delicious, but there was no way I was eating lunch with Bullet.

  Apparently, the good doctor had no qualms about eating with his angry, former patient because he dug right into his salad. After a minute, he said, "Okay, you want the bottom line. Here it is. I am the best. I am the best cosmetic surgeon in this area and probably in the whole damn country. My clients wait for weeks, even months to see me. I do not have to prove anything to you or to anyone else. I have never botched the job, never had a complaint. If you want to take your chances with Dr. Amisha, then go for it but you're making a big mistake. The man does not have the record that I have. Besides, he can't give you what I can." He didn't get defensive as I expected him. He believed what he was saying and honestly, I did too. I did not know why but suddenly I was thinking of Bullet standing in front of me, looking down at me, his hand on my chin caressing my jaw as I slowly unzipped his... Snap out of it girl!

  "It is easy to bad mouth the competition, Dr. Steinmann; especially when Dr. Amisha is not here to defend himself. Whatever you might say about him, I am pretty sure he hasn't lied to me so far. But for curiosity's sake, what is it you think you can give me that Dr. Amisha can't?"

  "This." He waved his fork between us. "He can't give you this. With Amisha, you might get a decent job; perhaps your breasts will look decent, maybe even straight." He put his fork down and sipped his drink. With a laugh he said, "I know I am not the only one that feels this. This is what you want." I could feel my pulse racing.

  "I think you are full of yourself, Bullet Steinmann" Whoa! That got his attention! For a minute, I thought he would get up and walk away. I continued, "You know you are good at what you do but you don't care. You do not care about the people you work on. You did not care enough about me to be honest with me from the beginning. Sure, I may have gone somewhere else but at least you and I could have had some kind of friendship. But you have ruined that and I'm not the kind of girl that forgives and forgets quite so easily."

  "If I did not care, I would have done what you asked and we wouldn't be here today. If I did not care, I would not have told you the truth. If I did not care, I wouldn't be sitting here right now — I would’ve never called you. However, here we are, here I am, and here you are. I cannot help but believe that you are here for more than just an apology, Lilly Brightwood. You want something from me, don't you?"

  Chapter Two

  Bullet

  The expression on Lilly's face was priceless. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

  "I think you know exactly what I mean. Let's stop playing with one another. What I did was wrong, even if I had only the best intentions. Like I said, it should never have happened." Suddenly, I decided to take a bold approach. She was a direct woman; I'd be direct with her. All she could do was walk away, right?

  "Do you think I like being at your mercy? Do you think I like the fact that you are the only woman I have been interested in for the past few years? Since I am no longer your physician, I feel comfortable telling you the truth. I find you addictive, Lilly. I cannot deny that I am sexually attracted to you. From your hair to your eyes to your body, there is not a thing that I would physically change on you and believe me, I never say that." I took a long sip of my drink. Her expressive green eyes told me everything she was thinking.

  "How am I supposed to respond to that? Are you kidding me?" Her feigned abhorrence made her feel superior. I got that but I knew that was not how she truly felt. Her face told me everything. I was skilled at reading the tiny muscles, all the little "tells" that a woman sends when she's interested in me. I could see four or five of them without even trying. The quivering lip. The touching of the hair. The catching of her breath. All of these were signals that she was interested in me. They were signals I would not ignore.

  "I don't expect you to do anything but listen. You don't even have to agree with me right now." I felt a smile creep over my face. I was happy that she was still here. "I have a proposition for you Lilly Brightwood. I'm going to make my proposition and ask you to think about it. If you refuse me, you will not hear from me again, ever. But if you say yes, well..."

  Lilly undid the belt on her stylish, headed trench coat, her eyes never leaving my face. I know she heard me because she nodded as if to say, "Go on."

  "As I have confessed here, you interest me. I like women who interest me — you are such a rare find. I tell you what, I will do this surgery for you, no questions asked, no convincing you otherwise, and no cost, if you agree to go away with me for a weekend. I have a lakefront cabin that I would love to show you." There! I put my cards on the table. Let's see what happens. I hadn't even planned to go to the cabin right now but if it meant getting away and being alone with Lilly then why not?

  With a seductive tilt of her head, the gorgeous blonde frowned at me. "Why would I do that? I do not need free surgery. I am not a charity case, Bullet. Nor am I so lacking in confidence that I would find your offer appealing. As flattering as you may think it is, I could care less that you find me interesting."

  I laughed aloud and she appeared shocked. "I never said you were a charity case, Lilly. I just thought perhaps you might welcome a change in your routine, a distraction maybe—a challenge. I am still the best, most qualified physician for you. I am young, at least compared to Dr. Amisha and familiar with the latest techniques and trends in breast surgery. Unless you want a pair of breasts that look like Barbie's you better stick with me. Just think about it and let me know by Thursday. If you agree, we would leave Friday afternoon and return Sunday night. All you have to do is keep me interested. That shouldn't be hard for someone as beautiful as you." I decided now was the time to leave. I slid some cash out of my pocket and placed it on the table. I reached for my jacket and paused for a moment. I gazed at her flawless, golden skin and her tiny, invisible dimples around her mouth. I knew they were there, if only she would smile, I would see them. Impulsively, I reached out and touched the wayward strand that she had worried with a few times during our conversation. I slid it behind her ear. Just touching the softness made me feel aroused. This girl had such control over me and she didn't appear to care. Funny how that worked.

  "Call or text me and let me know what you decide. If you don't contact me by Thursday, I will take the hint. Goodbye, Lilly." I left her sitting in the cafe and strolled out of the restaurant and into my car. I could feel her watching me as I drove away but I didn't acknowledge her. I had put my proposal out there. Now it was her turn. I hardly knew what to expect but naturally, I felt confident that she would see things my way. If she didn't, well, that would be that, just as I promised.

  My assistant called to inform me that my next appointment had to postpone but I didn’t care. I needed time to think about Lilly, time away from the wrinkled upper lips, drooping asses and saggy breasts. I decided that I needed a massage. I dialed the office of Executive Massage and made a quick appointment. Those girls were always ready to work out my kinks and I did not have to worry about them talking. I slid into the closed parking garage and walked to the side door. Tapping in the pass code I received in my email confirmation, I walked and was greeted immediately by a friendly masseuse. In less than ten minutes, I had shed my clothing and lay on a padded table wearing nothing but a sheet.

  "Where do you want me to start? On the front or the back?" My masseuse slid her veil of dark hair behind her shoulder and worked the oil into her hands. The an
swer became obvious when I slid the sheet off my body so she could see the area that needed the most work. I sat up on the bed as she approached me. Since her hands were oily, I obliged her by pulling down the zipper of her skimpy uniform. Oh yes, these were natural. I gently squeezed them and she didn't object. I hated for her to get oil on her clothing.

  Forty-five minutes later, I walked out of Executive Massage, feeling relaxed but I knew it was only a temporary fix to my problem. I needed Lilly. I wanted her. I thought about her the rest of the day. I checked my phone a few times between consultations in the hope that she came to her senses immediately and decided to take me up on my offer. What would I do if she said no? I pushed that thought away. I knew she would say yes. I called the housekeeping service I used and requested service at the cabin. I also made a few more calls, service for the pool and I booked my personal chef for the weekend, leaving the details of the menu up to her.

  I sat in my office, wrapping up the details of my clients' files and sending dictation files to my hardworking nurse. Once all my cases were buttoned up, I sat daydreaming about Lilly, reliving every moment of our conversation. My phone rang—I half believed it would be her but it was Rafe, a professional connection and sometimes acquaintance. We had met when I began my practice; Rafe owned a medical equipment supply chain. I had spotted Rafe a couple of times at social gatherings, then later on some play dates. He always had a petite woman on his arm and he liked to put on a show for anyone who would watch. His antic didn't bother me; I didn't mind watching him and his friend fooling around. I suddenly had an idea.

  "Rafe! Glad you called. How have you been, man?" A few minutes later, I was calling my personal chef and housekeeper, asking them to make provisions for four instead of two. This weekend it would be Rafe, his new friend Eve, and of course, Lilly. This was shaping up to be an exciting event. I wondered what Lilly would think about Rafe and his shenanigans. I couldn't wait to see.