by M. H. Soars
“Hey, how is our girl?” I ask.
“She’s doing much better.” He yawns before he goes on. “We’re going home tomorrow.”
“Oh, that’s a relief. Did they, I mean, what are the next steps?”
I doubt they will let a suicidal girl be released from the hospital without some serious lecture, at least I hope they won’t. Mandy might swear that what happened was an accident, but who can blame me for doubting her?
“They talked about the dangers of mixing sleeping pills with alcohol and suggested therapy. Mandy is not happy about that and is refusing. I was hoping you could convince her otherwise.”
I let out a loud sigh. “I’ll try, Connor. But Mandy is an adult and we can’t force her to do anything.”
“Then what can we do? Just sit on the sidelines and watch her hurt herself?” I hear the pain and frustration in Connor’s voice and it mirrors my own.
“We can be there for her.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s been a rough couple of days.”
“I know. I’m heading to practice. Call me if you need anything.”
I end the call and my heart is twice as heavy as it was before. I’m so fucking glad that Tabatha demanded we practice tonight. Music is the only thing that can take me out of a funk.
When I get to her place I’m five minutes late. I made a split second decision to go home first for a quick shower to rinse away the smell of garlic and grease. Remi is already there, but there’s no sign of Damien. I don’t need to look closely at Tabatha’s expression to know she’s pissed. The way she is pacing in the garage with her phone glued to her ear says it all. I dump my purse in a corner and lock gazes with Remi. She just shakes her head.
“Damien, I swear to God if you don’t show up for practice tonight, I’m going to kick your ass so hard, you won’t be able to sit down for weeks,” Tabatha says before ending the call. I guess she got his voicemail.
She turns to me and narrows her eyes. “You’re late again.”
“I know, I’m so—“
Pain. So much pain. It blinds me. I hold my head in my hands and I don’t know what happens next.
I blink my eyes open and I’m staring at a white, popcorn ceiling. The dark wood fan hanging from it tells me I’m no longer in Tabatha’s garage. I try to sit up, but my head feels like it’s going to split in two when I move.
“Oh, you’re awake,” Remi says. “Tabby, Saylor is up.”
“Thank fuck. I was ready to call an ambulance.”
“What happened?”
“What happened? You let out a piercing scream and passed out on us. That’s what happened. Can you sit up?”
Tabatha appears in my line of vision, her rash tone not matching the worried look on her face.
“My head feels like it’s going to explode.”
“Saylor, this is getting out of hand. Have you made an appointment with the doctor yet?”
I could lie to Tabatha, but what’s the use? She’ll keep asking about it until I give in.
“Not yet.”
“Okay, that’s it. I’m making the call and I’m gonna take you there personally.”
“You’re not my mother.”
“If you stopped acting like a child maybe I wouldn’t need to act like one.”
“Fine, whatever. Can I crash here tonight?”
“Of course you can. I’ll get you a pillow and blanket.”
Tabatha is gone before I can say thank you. I close my eyes and dread what the future holds.
Fourteen
SAYLOR
I don’t know what kind of magic trick Tabatha pulled, but she managed to get me an appointment with one of the best neuro specialists in the area within days. She took me there herself because she didn’t trust me to actually go, but she had the foresight to remain in the waiting area. Tabatha means well and she would never have forced me to see a doctor if she wasn’t truly worried about me. That was a week ago. Today, I’m here to talk about the results of the speedy MRI exam he ordered and I’m a ball of nerves. I’m solo this time and as I sit in the doctor’s pristine office, I twist my hands in anticipation. Why the hell did they always make you wait in their offices after you’ve already wasted precious time in the waiting area?
He comes in like he has all the time in the world, like he doesn’t hold my fate in the letter sized envelope in his hands. He takes a seat and stares at me calmly.
“How are you doing today, Saylor?”
“Cut the pleasantries, doc. What did the results say? You didn’t drag me here to ask me how I am.”
No. The fact that I had to hear the results of the damn MRI in person tells me something is definitely wrong with me.
He leans back on his fancy leather chair and laces his fingers together. “I’m afraid I have some bad news, Saylor. We’ve found a blood clot in your brain.”
Blood. Breath in. Clot. Breath out. He’s still talking but I’m no longer listening and I only catch a few loose words. Surgery. Risky. Death.
“Saylor, are you okay? I know it’s a lot to take in.”
“Am I dying?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is that simple. How long do I have?”
“You’ve probably had the blood clot since your attack. It might have shifted and that’s why you are getting migraines now. Other symptoms might include dizziness, lack of coordination, partial paralysis.”
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. This is a nightmare, it has to be a nightmare.
The doctor continues on. “Sometimes, it’s possible to dissolve the clot by putting the patient under an aspirin regime, but that won’t work in your case.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Am I dying or not?” I stare at him, hard.
“I can’t predict what’s going to happen in the next week, in the next month.”
“So basically you’re saying I have a ticking time bomb in my head.”
He sighs loudly and leans forward. “We could operate, but brain surgery has its risks. You could lose the ability to speak or experience memory loss.”
“So what are you saying? I should or shouldn’t have surgery?”
“I can’t tell you what to do. Both scenarios come with their own set of consequences. Don’t have surgery and learn to deal with the knowledge that your life span will be much shorter. Have the surgery and run the risk of losing some part of yourself.”
I stare at the polished white wood table and see nothing but a black hole. There’s a weight on my chest, caving it in, making it impossible to breathe properly. My hands clutch the arms of the chair in a merciless vise. Don’t have surgery and die within the next few months. Have surgery and risk living the rest of my life as a vegetable.
“When do I need to decide?”
“If you go the surgery route, I would like to do it as soon as possible.”
I don’t remember getting up or walking out of the doctor’s office. Actually, I don’t remember much after he gave me those two impossible choices. But he must have said something else because now I have a prescription for the migraines in my hand.
I drive in a daze and I’m thankful that I don’t crash the car. It would be ironic if I ended up dying in a car crash after I’ve been told I have months to live. So fucking ironic.
OLIVER
It’s been a week since I last saw Saylor. A week of multiple hand jobs every time I remembered the kiss I stole from her. I could have gone out and hooked up with other women. Hell, I could have had them come to me and I’m not talking about high class prostitutes. I never dug paying for something I can get for free. But I know no other bird will do if it’s not Saylor.
The yearning for her only got worse after I tasted her sweet lips, but I needed to disappear for a while to get my mind in order. She’s doing things to my head I wasn’t prepared for. This is no longer just a fun skirt chase.
Today, I’m out with Pepe looking for apartments. I tried to dodge his call
s, but the man is a pest. Might as well use him. I asked to see some apartments in Manhattan Beach, a place I’ve always liked, but so far none of the properties Pepe took me to have spoken to me. We are driving through Hermosa Beach when I see a two-story house with a ‘For Sale’ sign. I ask Pepe to stop the car.
“That’s not for rent,” the man points out.
I ignore him and exit the vehicle. A white, modern construction stares at me. The sleek and boxy architecture would be as plain as fuck if it weren’t for the overhanging balcony upfront. A tall palm tree in the front yard is accompanied by smaller ones, so they don’t obstruct the view from the first floor windows.
“I would like to check it out.”
“I’m on it, boss.” The man has the phone to his ear in the next second.
Twenty minutes later, we get the code to the lock and I take my time to inspect every nook of the house. This place will be absolutely perfect for a business idea I have been brewing for a while. Before we return to the car, I tell Pepe I’m ready to make an offer. The man’s eyes almost pop out of his skull when he hears my number.
“That’s more than the asking price.”
“I know. When I see something I like, I don’t play around.”
We head to a café nearby so Pepe can send the formal offer via email. Needless to say, my generous cash offer is accepted within the hour and Pepe can’t hide his glee. Probably the easiest money he’s ever made.
“We need to celebrate. Come to the Goulas, we’ll do it in Greek style.”
I feel like celebrating all right, but not with Pepe and most definitely not at a family restaurant. The man notices my hesitation and is quick to part with just the right information to change my mind.
“Your friend Saylor will be there tonight. She’s the newest member of staff.” He gives me a sly grin.
A week. I could only stay away a week. I’m smiling when I say, “I love Greek food.”
It takes a while for Saylor to notice that I’m at the Goulas. I sat at the bar on the far end of the restaurant on purpose only so I could observe her. Pepe hasn’t stopped talking since we got here, something I abhor in people, but tonight, his ceaseless chatter doesn’t bother me.
After an hour and many drinks later, the man asks if I’m ready to eat. Without taking my eyes off of Saylor, I say, “I’m famished. Make sure we get a table in Saylor’s section.”
“That goes without saying, boss.” He gives me a wink and flags someone, meeting the guy half way.
I finish the last sip of my beer and when I motion to pay the tab, the bartender tells me it’s on the house. Pepe waves at me from the middle of the room and I make a beeline to our table. I spot Saylor coming our way but she hasn’t seen me yet, so I quickly sit down and grab the menu to fake nonchalance, but I think there might be fucking butterflies in my stomach. I haven’t felt this way since I was in kindergarten and had my first major crush.
My gaze is still down on the menu when I feel her presence next to our table. Slowly, I bring my eyes up, letting them travel the length of her body until I’m staring at her stony face. She’s had the chance to put on an indifference mask as well. Let’s see how long she can keep that up.
“Hello, sugar.”
“Good evening. Welcome to the Goulas. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Tell Dimitri we want the best red wine he has in the house. We’re celebrating tonight,” Pepe says.
“Oh?” Saylor raises an eyebrow at me.
“Your friend bought a house today.” Pepe continues while I keep staring at Saylor in silence. I must be unnerving the shit out of her.
Her lips part and her pretty eyes widen a bit. I don’t know what to make out of her reaction, but react she did.
“Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”
She blinks in rapid succession as if she’s trying to clear her mind. “So, you’re really staying?”
“It looks like it.” I smile, showing all my teeth.
I don’t know what I expected, but it certainly isn’t the jaw clenching and the eyebrow furrowing that she’s doing. I was definitely hoping for something better than a scowl.
“I’ll put your order in.” She whirls and walks away before I can say anything else.
“You’ll have to bring your A-game if you want to score with that one. She’s a tough cookie, boss.”
“No shit.”
Fifteen
SAYLOR
After everything that has happened in my life in the past week, Oliver’s presence at the Goulas felt like a cherry on the top of a bitter cake. And his news? He bought a house. Why? It shouldn’t matter, really. He didn’t buy the house next to the Goulas—that would have been way too freaky—but a house in Hermosa Beach. I’ll probably never bump into him.
The restaurant is closed and he’s still here. He came with Pepe so I can’t kick him out. Throughout the evening, he didn’t say anything out of line or filled with innuendo, but he kept gazing at me with such intensity that I could feel the heat underneath my clothes. I lost count of how many times the staff made comments about Oliver and me being an item. Shit, anyone with a pair of eyes could see the mood between us, including Remi who at one point pulled me into a corner and asked what I planned to do about the sexual tension between me and the hot super star. If she had been anyone else, I could have given her the rehearsed excuse—Oliver is a manwhore, he is Sebastian’s best friend. Only, none of those reasons matter to me, and Remi knows it.
I should be angry at Oliver. He did disappear for a week after our kiss. A week that changed my life forever. But his presence is helping keep my mind distracted from my impending doom.
There’s no one left at the Goulas besides Dimitri, Pepe, Oliver, and me. I offered to stay behind to help Dimitri in the hopes that Oliver would get tired of waiting for me. No such luck. On my way to the restroom, Dimitri pulls me to the side and asks if I want him to get rid of Oliver. I look over Dimitri’s shoulder and find Oliver gazing into nothing, as if he’s daydreaming about something. An unfathomable need unfurls in the pit of my stomach and my heart gives a powerful lurch forward. I focus on Dimitri’s face once more and say that everything is fine.
When I return from my trip to the lady’s room, I hope and dread that Oliver is still around. He is but his companion is gone, and now I find myself unsure of what to do. I have my own means of transportation for once, so Oliver can’t trap me in his car this time.
“Why are you still here?” I ask just for the hell of it.
“I was waiting to give you a lift home.”
“I drove. Someone mysteriously fixed my tire and dropped my car off at my place a week ago.”
“Really? You have really good friends.” His eyes twinkle when he smiles.
I walk toward the exit and Oliver follows after me, but I stop in my tracks when I don’t see my car parked where I left it.
“Where the hell is my car?”
“Oh, did I forget to tell you?” Oliver leans closer to whisper in my ear. “Remi had to borrow it. It seems you need a ride after all.”
Remi. Motherfucker. I should have known she would pull something like that. I consider for one split second asking Dimitri to drive me home, but he lives all the way across town and he looks exhausted.
I glance at Oliver who is now staring at me with an eat-shit grin. I could call an Uber just to wipe that smirk right off his face, but that’s not really what I want. Maybe it’s high time I find out why I can’t stop thinking about Oliver and his damn kisses. Carpe diem and all.
Without a word, I walk in his car’s direction. If he’s surprised I caved in so quickly, he doesn’t show it.
Maybe I’m jumping the gun. It has not even been twenty-four hours since I received the news that my head might explode at any minute. I’m not thinking clearly and this could be a mistake. But I don’t care. I don’t care that Oliver will most likely fuck me and never look back. I don’t care that I feel gross and not in the least sexy after working an
eight-hour shift. All I want is to be reckless, to throw caution to the wind. I had reasons for fighting my attraction to Oliver before, but now they are nothing, they are vapor.
The heated glance he throws at me once we’re inside the car ignites my body like a spark. My pulse is loud in my ears and it drowns out everything else. My heart is beating wildly in my chest. I don’t have a plan, but I know I don’t want to go back to his hotel room.
“I want to see your new place,” I say.
“I haven’t signed the papers yet.”
“But you can get the code for the lock from Pepe, right?”
His gaze turns smoldering as he searches my face. “Yeah, I can do that.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re inside Oliver’s soon to be new home. It’s stage-furnished with modern and sleek furniture to make the house more enticing to buyers. It’s massive with an open floor space and huge glass windows that give a magnificent view of the ocean. There’s a sunk in area in the back of the house where a swimming pool sits in darkness. I’m feeling nervous all of the sudden and my body trembles in fear? Anticipation? I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.
“Why do you need such a big house?”
Oliver rubs the back of his neck and turns his gaze away. “No reason.”
The lie is easy to spot. Fine. He doesn’t need to tell me all his secrets. I expect him to put the moves on me right away, but he seems reluctant to act. I wonder if I’m giving out weird vibes now that I know my days are numbered. The thought that maybe he’s nervous crosses my mind, but I quickly dismiss that. Why would he be nervous? I’m just another lay for him, another notch on his belt. And I’m fine with that. I’m not looking for a relationship here.
Oliver says he needs to use the restroom and I proceed to unlatch the sliding doors to the outside patio. I try the light switches until I find the one for the pool. The entire area becomes bathed in a soft glow. I kneel by the edge of the pool and dip my hand into the water. It’s freezing and goose bumps break out on my arms.