by Candy Caine
“I’m not exactly here because of me.”
The doctor’s blue eyes widened momentarily in surprise. “On whose behalf are you really here, Ms. Williams?”
For the next ten minutes, Dottie explained why she needed his help. The doctor jotted down notes as she spoke. When she was finished, several beats of silence followed. Dr. Lusk tented his fingers under his square chin. When he finally spoke, it had felt like forever.
“What is it that you’d like me to do, Mrs. Williams?”
“Advise me. What can I do to get Raven to go back to her job at the law firm?”
“I’m at a loss here. Your niece is a grown woman capable of making career decisions.” Dr. Lusk uncrossed his legs and straightened in his chair.
“That’s just it. I’m not certain if that applies any longer. Her actions are telling me something’s wrong. She’s always wanted to be a lawyer ever since I can remember. In fact, her father and grandfather were attorneys.”
“People often find out that things turn out differently than they imagined them to be. There’s nothing strange or unusual about that. Perhaps that’s what happened with Raven.”
“But Dr. Lusk, even if we go with that notion, she isn’t changing one comparable career for another. My niece wants to work in an ice cream parlor, for God’s sake,” Dottie said, her frustration coming out.
“I really can’t pass judgment, not knowing Raven. Perhaps if she could come in to speak to me—”
“That’ll never happen,” Dottie said sharply.
“Why not?” Dr. Lusk eyed her curiously.
“Raven hates all psychologists. She blames one in particular for the death of her best friend.”
“Was he culpable?” Dr. Lusk asked, arching his eyebrows.
She shrugged. “Who could say? Shawna was a very troubled child and had seen several psychologists by then.”
“Okay, then. Just from speaking with you, I’m certain you’ve tried everything in your power to persuade your niece to remain with the law firm. Therefore, that brings us back to my original question. What do you expect from me?”
“To tell me if she’s competent,” Dottie stated.
“But how? You’ve already told the she’d never agreed to speak with me.” The doctor’s blue eyes peered intently at Dottie.
“I’ve given this a lot of thought. There is a way. You can go to the ice cream parlor and talk to her. See if she sounds rational. I don’t know what else to do. You’re my last hope,” Dottie said desperately.
“What you’re asking me to do, Ms. Williams—”
“Dottie…Please call me Dottie.”
“Okay…Dottie, what you ask of me is highly unusual to say the least—”
“I’ll be glad to pay whatever you ask,” Dottie quickly added.
“It’s not the money that concerns me, but the ethics involved,” Dr. Lusk was finally able to say.
Dottie frowned a moment and then brightened. “Okay. Then answer me this. How unethical is it to go to an ice cream parlor and order a dish of ice cream?”
Dr. Lusk straightened out his legs. He smiled. “Are you certain you’re not an attorney, as well, Dottie?”
Dottie grinned. Her heart began to thud in her chest. Was he going to do it?
“Okay. If I agreed to do this— and I’m not saying I am— how much information do you think I’d be able to glean from ordering ice cream from your niece? And you really think I can make a competent assessment about her mental capacity from that information?”
Dottie opened her purse and removed a recent picture of Raven. “I understand what you’re saying and whatever you can deduce from meeting my niece will be fine. Surely a trained doctor like you could tell if she’s exhibiting any signs of having some kind of breakdown.” She gripped the chair. “You’re my last resort, and I don’t want you to analyze the wrong woman. This is my Raven,” Dottie said, handing him the picture.
Dr. Lusk took Raven’s picture and studied it for several moments. It appeared to be taken at some celebration. Raven was a stunning woman with honey-colored skin and high, delicate cheekbones. Her lips were full and slightly open in a fetching smile, as if the camera had caught her unawares. Her hair was long and black, the kind he loved to run his fingers through, but it was her gorgeous, almond-shaped, hazel-green eyes that drew his attention. Even in a photo, her eyes gleamed with brilliant intelligence and appeared to be unfathomable. A man could easily lose himself in them or be cut down to size by such eyes, and he was momentarily unable to take his eyes from the picture.
One thought took center stage in his mind. Why would such a lovely woman want to hide herself away and work in an ice cream parlor? Perhaps, Dottie’s worry was warranted. He started to hand back the picture to Dottie, but she stopped him.
“Keep the picture; I have plenty. All I ask is that you think about helping me. My niece is all I have, and I’ve raised her since she was a child. Her parents were killed in an auto accident. She idolized her father and wanted to be a lawyer just like him. Her decision to work in an ice cream parlor is completely out of character for Raven. All I want is the best for her. But whatever you decide, I thank you for your time, Dr. Lusk.”
As Dorothy began to get up, Dr. Lusk put a hand on her arm. “Please sit down, Dottie. I’m not certain this is the right thing to do, but I’d like to help you. Tell me as much as you can about your niece.”
* * *
Dr. Lusk was intrigued by Dottie Williams’s quest to help her niece. True, her request had been unorthodox, but not unethical. All he’d be doing was buying ice cream and conversing with Raven. He felt drawn to the middle-aged woman who had dedicated her life to raising Raven. Having no husband or children of her own, her niece was all she had. He understood where the woman was coming from. However, in all honesty, it was Raven’s picture that sold him on the quest.
Just seeing her picture made certain parts of him tingle that he hadn’t felt in some time. He could just imagine how he’d react to the actual woman. The thought sent pleasurable shivers down his spine.
Suddenly, Lucas’s mind wandered to the last time a beautiful woman had excited and delighted him. The same woman nearly destroyed his heart. Though it had happened well over ten years ago, it remained as fresh in his mind as if it had taken place yesterday. As the memory of the blackest day of his life floated back to the surface of his mind like pond scum, his eyes narrowed into two blue slivers of ice as his heart hardened to stone.
Heather O’Neill had been everything to him. Crazy in love with her, he intended to ask her to marry him. No matter where he went, she went with him, for he carried an image of her in his mind that could be conjured up at will. Her long, gorgeous, red hair, blue eyes, and the fairest of skin had been put together to create the perfect woman. His perfect woman.
A talented graphic artist, Heather worked at home, which was the townhouse they’d shared for the previous seven months. That day, Lucas remembered so vividly, began just like any other day. He’d reluctantly left Heather in bed, her red hair spilling onto her pillow. The sight of her nearly rooted him to the spot. But he had patients to see and forced himself to leave. Lucas had driven the entire way to his office before he discovered he’d forgotten his cell phone and pager. Realizing he had no other choice, he turned around and went straight back to the townhouse to retrieve them.
Opening the front door, he heard the loud groan of the bed springs. The hair on the back of his neck stood. Either Heather was jumping up and down on the bed, or… it was the “or” part of the equation that greeted him as he walked into the bedroom.
He stood there, frozen to the spot, his brain not wanting to believe what his eyes were seeing. Heather was naked and perched on all fours. One of the townhouse’s maintenance guys, José, a big, burly man with crude tattoos running the length of his arms, back, and neck, was pumping vigorously into the cunt of the woman he thought loved him—and only him. Lucas’s stomach grew queasy as he watched the maintenance man’s gr
ease-stained hands paw Heather’s fair breasts as they swayed, causing her to moan. How could she behave like a whore and give herself to such a creature? Hadn’t he been enough of a man for her?
Lucas later found out that it hadn’t been the first time and José hadn’t been the first man to fuck Heather in his absence. Lucas hadn’t allowed himself to trust another woman since.
* * *
Dottie had left Dr. Lusk’s office with hope. Though it might be little at best, his professional opinion was better than none, and remaining on the sidelines doing nothing while her niece deep-sixed her entire future was out of the question.
She thought about the psychologist. Having worked in the hospitality industry most of her adult life, she’d interacted with all types of people. Dottie liked Lucas Lusk, the man. In their brief interaction, she could tell he was sincere and believed that he truly wanted to help her. She could also tell he was all male by his reaction to Raven’s picture. No doubt that was the factor that swayed the good doctor’s decision to help.
Dottie smiled. Too bad he was born on the other side of town, so to speak, though that mattered little today. Nowadays, hardly anyone raised an eyebrow with the mingling of the races. When she was growing up in the South, things were quite different. When her sister, Deanna, married Hank Gould, a white Jew, things had been different. What could be so wrong if Dr. Lusk and her niece got together? Two professionals who would make a handsome couple…
As Dottie mulled this thought over, an image of Lucas Lusk flashed in her mind. When he smiled, which he did often, it made her feel welcome and something else...warm. He made her feel that her problem was his only concern. Of course, she realized that was silly, but yet, that was how she felt. His eyes weighed and assessed her worry as they spoke. She liked having his complete attention.
But it wasn’t only his understanding eyes and warm smile that Dottie noticed. She thought him handsome, around thirty-five, put together just right, with a strong, square jaw, dark brown hair that was neat but natural looking, and a nose that was straight, but not perfect. He had light olive skin that looked smooth and soft. As he spoke, she noticed his fingers were long and tapered, the nails clipped and clean.
Even though Dottie thought he was attractive, she had no idea what her niece would make of him. She no longer had any idea what made Raven tick. After all, she hardly saw Raven’s radical change in career coming. So how could she even guess what type of man would make Raven’s heart sing, as if any could.
Too bad the doctor wasn’t older— or she younger, Dottie mused. Judging from his broad shoulders, she was as sure as she could be that he had a well-toned body under his clothes and knew how to use it. Shame on you, Dorothy Williams, for such impure thoughts. Then Dottie smiled. It was good to know she wasn’t dead yet.
Chapter Five
Dr. Lucas Lusk sat in his late model Prius outside Flavor of the Week, thinking of the best approach to take with Raven Gould. He knew ten minutes would never yield what generally took many hours of therapy to reveal: why anyone would want to give up a six-figure career for a low-paying counter position in an ice cream shop. He sighed. There was no best way to do this, and he’d have to play it by ear. Sighing once more, he wished he hadn’t promised to help Dottie Williams, but there was no turning back now.
The ice cream parlor was small—not that he expected it to be large. After all, ice cream was a seasonal product. Places selling ice cream did most of their business during the warmer months on Long Island. Even if the shop remained open all year, how many people ate ice cream in winter?
The eye-catching Flavor of the Week sign above the store looked hand-carved, and he found it appealing. A bright banner hung in the front window, boasting that Flavor of the Week was home to thirty-two mouth-watering flavors. All those choices were wasted on him, because he was strictly a vanilla man. Give him a dish of fresh hand-whipped vanilla ice cream and he couldn’t be happier— unless you topped it with sprinkles and a cherry.
In the right-hand corner was another sign posting the store hours. Mondays through Fridays, it opened at 10:00 a.m. and closed at 9:00 p.m., but on the weekends it remained open until 11:00 p.m.
There was another sign inviting the public to have waffles for breakfast. Perhaps the store owner was able to remain open during the winter months by offering other menu items to keep the clientele returning.
As Lucas stepped inside, he felt the cheerful ambiance of the place. The wallpaper, the tables and chairs— everything was geared to put a smile on the customer’s face and appeal to the child within. He half-expected a clown to come marching out to entertain the folks. There were two women behind the counter. They both looked in his direction after the bell on the door jingled. It wasn’t difficult to pick Raven out. The other woman was older and had flaming-red hair. Both were helping customers. Raven was lovelier in person. Her facial bones were delicately carved, her mouth full. He found her lips tempting and her cinnamon skin beckoning to be touched. He wondered if she was a rose possessing thorns or a tulip, beautiful, yet hardy enough to flower ever year.
He looked at the other patrons sitting at the tables eating their ice cream and happily chatting away. One child, sitting in a high chair, was feeding himself with a plastic spoon; his face was covered in chocolate ice cream. He was having a great time. What kid didn’t like ice cream?
When Raven finished the sale, she turned her attention to him and smiled. “Have you decided on what you’d like?”
For a split second Lucas lost his concentration, momentarily dazzled by the smile.
“This place is a real find. I was passing by and got caught by the light. I turned my head and saw the sign. Bam! It hit me. I had to have ice cream. So, here I am. I have a question, though,” Lucas said, trying to be convincing.
Raven’s heart gave a little flip. From afar, the man was handsome in an understated kind of way. Till one got up close and got a good look at his warm blue eyes and sexy mouth. Well-dressed in a tan, lightweight suit and striped burgundy-and-tan tie, he was also clean-shaven. She liked that in a man, not getting what women found attractive in two-day stubble. It was sloppy looking and definitely rough on the sensitive skin of a woman.
“I-I’d be delighted to answer it, if I can.”
Her voice was pleasant and clear. He could almost picture her litigating in a courtroom. “Is every flavor homemade?”
“Absolutely.”
“Do you turn it yourself?”
“No. We have a machine that does that. If I did turn it by hand, I’d have arms like Popeye the sailor man.”
Lucas laughed. Her arms looked slim and delicate, their caramel color contrasted with the white Flavor of the Week tee shirt she had on. Soft enough to want to touch.
“So what can I make for you?” Raven asked once more.
“How’s about a dish of vanilla ice cream?”
Surprise flashed across Raven’s features. “After all that, you just want vanilla? We have thirty-one other flavors to choose from.” She gestured at the long display case of ice cream.
Lucas smiled. “It’s still vanilla.”
“Okay, then. How many scoops would you like? And what would you like as a topping?”
Lucas noticed how patient Raven was with him. He’d been in other places where the sales help would be quite annoyed with him by now.
“I think I’d like two scoops,” he said holding up two fingers. He purposely didn’t mention the topping, waiting to see her reaction.
“Would you like any toppings, sir?”
Still patient, he thought. “You can have more than one?”
“Of course. This is your masterpiece,” Raven replied.
Lucas grinned. “Sprinkles. I’d like lots of sprinkles.”
Her breath caught at the sight of his white, even teeth. “C-Chocolate or multicolored?”
He shook his head. “Too many choices. Chocolate. That’s it. Just chocolate sprinkles.” Then as an afterthought, “Wait! Can I have a ch
erry on top?”
“You can even have two.”
“No. Just one would be perfect. Two would be overkill.”
“Can I ask you a question?” Raven said.
Lucas hadn’t expected that, and it caught him momentarily off guard. “Sure. Shoot.”
“When was the last time you had ice cream?”
Suddenly he felt at a loss for words and gave her a sheepish look. “I can’t remember.”
“Thought so. It’ll be ready in a minute.”
Lucas watched Raven scoop out his ice cream with her small, delicate hands. He wondered how soft they’d be in his hands. She seemed to be enjoying what she was doing. He had no doubt about that. Though Lucas had studied her photograph, there were lots of things a picture couldn’t reveal. In the photo her thick, dark hair hung over her shoulders, but today she wore it tied back in a ponytail, revealing a long, slender, kissable neck. Lucas was disconcerted to feel his groin grow heavy. Damn. He was semi-aroused.
Raven placed the dish on the counter by the cash register. Lucas took out his wallet to pay.
“You seem very happy. Do you enjoy working here?”
“Why do you ask? Looking for a job?” Raven replied.
“No. Just curious.”
“I’m very happy. No stress. Usually, though, my customers just tell me what they want and sit down to eat it. They don’t play twenty questions with me.”
“Ouch!”
“So which are you? A journalist or an author writing about an ice cream parlor?”
“Neither. Just a curious kind of guy who’s going to sit down and enjoy this delicious-looking dish of vanilla ice cream.” Then he took his own advice and sat down quickly before she hijacked the entire conversation.
Raven rolled her eyes and shook her head as she watched him sit down, but her attention was soon drawn to a new customer.
From the little interaction Lucas had had with Raven, she definitely appeared normal, which, of course, was a relative term. He seriously doubted she’d experienced a breakdown of any kind. In fact, she seemed to be quite happy working there. Whatever reasons she had to quit her job as an attorney must’ve been compelling. He had no idea what they might have been, but he was certain of one thing. When he reported back to Dottie Williams, she wasn’t going to be happy with his assessment of her niece.