by Lexy Timms
“You left DI?” Brant couldn’t keep up. At this point, so much had changed in the last 24 hours that he highly suspected that if someone asked him his name, he would have to check his driver’s license just to make sure he was answering correctly.
“YES! Dammit!” Mel threw the bag onto the bed. “I quit! I took the only place I knew, the only job I had, and flushed it down the toilet for some idealistic morals that no one else has!” Mel grabbed her bag and stormed out. Brant tried to reach for her again, but she saw his advance and dodged. She ran faster, and Brant was right behind her.
“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Mel screamed, and slammed the front door in his face.
Brant threw it open in time to see her jumping into the back of the Jeep. The young man tore out of the driveway, giving just a little drift of his own. Brant grabbed the keys from his pocket and lunged through the door, landing face-down on the top step, the fall winding him and cracking his arm painfully on the stone.
He sat up slowly and stared at his ankle. A pair of her panties has fallen from the bag she’d clutched so hard and he’d tripped over them. More specifically, one leg hole was caught on the bottom of the door, the other held his toe.
There were no words. He groaned in absolute despair, realizing the Jeep was long past hearing, and he had no idea where Mel had just gone.
Was it really over? Just like that?
“That’s a cute trick,” a voice said over him.
Brant moaned and rolled over, blocking out the light over the door with a raised hand, trying to see the shadowy figure that loomed over him. Shit. “Alice?”
“Most women can get a man into her panties, but mostly we have to be wearing them. I haven’t seen this variation before. I gotta hand it to her.”
Brant sat up and winced, discovering new bruises and what he suspected that might require a chiropractor later. “I thought you quit.”
“Quit? Doctor, the day I quit is the day you have to figure out how to feed yourself and how to clean the house. In other words, the day I quit is the day you die of starvation and get buried in a dirty shirt.”
“Don’t be silly,” Brant grumped as he unwound the underwear from his shoe. “You know they’d never find my body under all the empty pizza boxes.” He took a deep breath and stared down the empty driveway. Somewhere in all those lights of the city below them was the love of his life. He sighed. “Well, it all fell apart.” Brant’s smile was bitter. Rueful. “Just like you wanted.”
“This is not what I wanted,” Alice said in mild reproof. “And stop snapping at me like a spurned adolescent. You’re a doctor, one of the most respected in your field.”
“A field you don’t think is good enough or…OW!”
Alice straightened while Brant held his knuckles to his mouth, tasting blood. “You actually carry a ruler?”
“Listen to me, Doctor.” Alice’s face could have spawned a thunderstorm. “You’ve been acting like a little boy—”
“But she’s—”
“Not just today, I mean since I’ve known you!” Alice shot back. “And it has to stop. I happen to like this one.” She indicated the driveway where Mel had disappeared. “I also happen to like Gloria. What I do not like are lies and deceit.”
“I didn’t lie to her…” Brant said, but it sounded weak even to him.
“You are now,” Alice reminded him.
“I gave my word,” he mumbled, glancing with wary eyes at Alice to see if the ruler was going to make another appearance.
Alice sighed. “So you did. That was your first mistake. Can’t you see this from this woman’s perspective? Don’t you understand why she’s so upset?”
Did he? He opened his mouth to speak and thought better of it. This wasn’t a moment for a glib answer. This was time for truth. For facing who and what he’d become.
He knew exactly how he’d hurt her. And deserved every bit of this. “Yes.” Brant looked down at the driveway. In the stillness, if he listened closely, he could hear his mother’s ringtone from the car. “Of course, I can. But—”
No buts, Brant. Fix this. Now.”
“How?” He looked up at Alice. He was genuinely without an idea how to fix anything at this point.
“A night in a hotel room isn’t going to hurt her any,” Alice said, offering a hand. “And maybe this is something you need help to fix. There’s two of you involved here.”
Brant ignored her offer to help. The way the day had been going, he’d only bring her down to his level. Instead, he levered himself to his feet. Awkwardly. Slowly. Yeah, this was going to hurt. Alice stood in silence, waiting for his answer. “Yeah,” he said finally, dusting off his pants. “You’re probably right.” Then he laughed, ducking his head the way he used to when Alice caught him out. “No. You are right. Thanks.”
“Brant.” Alice looked up at him, a proud grandmother. She clasped his arm and said, “The only question I have for you, young man is this: Is this girl worth growing up for?”
Brant stared at her a long time. “I just thought that I had.”
Alice shook her head. “Maybe in the last few minutes, Brant. Let’s give that a little time to see if it takes, all right? What’re you going to do now?”
Brant stretched and slowly walked to the car. He pulled the phone from the passenger seat. “Fix this,” he called over his shoulder, holding up his phone for Alice to see.
The damn thing never stopped ringing.
Brant stared at it a moment, composing in his head the things he needed to say. Then stood a moment, at a loss for how to begin.
Do it simply.
Just do it.
He swallowed hard and put the phone to his ear.
“Hello, Mother.”
Chapter 17
She was an idiot to flee from Brant’s house the way she had. Childish. She’d raced out to the car as if ten- thousand devils were at her back, leaving a trail of clothing in her wake that she was going to have to replace, which seemed to include most of her underwear. What was he going to do? Force her to stay?
Make her listen to him?
That’s what she’d been running from. Words. Whatever words he could summon that would explain away engagements and actresses. Betrayals and lies.
And she knew she wasn’t strong enough to fight it. That, if she’d stayed so much as one more minute, she would have listened. And listening was the first step toward being convinced.
No. She didn’t want to be convinced. What would be the point? Sooner or later there would be another lie, another actress, another piece of perfection, unscarred and whole between them. Like ripping off a bandage, leaving now was a thing better off done and over with.
But if she was so righteous and honorable, why did she want so much to cry?
And why hadn’t she considered that maybe, just maybe, kissing some stupid Uber driver was going to give him the wrong idea?
Mel eyed the kid, who was driving with a pretty big grin on his face. It should’ve been obvious. The way she’d thrown herself into the car. The way she’d screamed at him to just drive and get her the hell out of there. Anyone with half a brain would know that that kiss had been staged from anger. But the driver was special.
Damn, but the grin that broke out on his face was as large as the Joker’s. Heath Ledger version.
“So where to?” he asked as they hit the street with a turn that sent her tumbling against the door. Mel scrambled for her seatbelt with shaking fingers.
“Get me to a decent hotel,” she said wearily, and closed her eyes. She could have sworn he was about to go through six lanes of traffic with the light in front of them quite obviously red.
“Ok, babe.” The car came to a halt, not of the crashing variety, thankfully, and she risked opening an eye long enough to see that he’d stopped at the light after. A nice sane maneuver that told Mel there was hope for him yet.
Until he turned left. From the far-right lane.
At least he waited for the arrow…
And
what had he just called her?
“Babe?” She looked at him in the rearview mirror; he was grinning harder now. As a doctor, a part of Mel’s mind wondered if he was going to feel some pain later from his cheeks pulling back like that.
“What are you…” she started to ask. He was digging around for something, one hand on the steering wheel and no eyes on the road. He finally pulled up something from the ashtray, put it to his mouth. Bloomin’ breath spray. Minty Fresh.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Mel dropped her face in her hands.
“What?”
“I want to be alone!” she wailed, ignoring the fact that she sounded like a bad Greta Garbo impersonation.
“Yeah, of course!” he agreed frantically. “No problem at all!”
Mel relaxed a little, confident that she’d misjudged him.
“Wait, does that mean you want me to leave my phone in the car? I am kinda at work…”
Seriously?
“NO!” Mel his. “Alone. By myself. Not with you. Not with anyone!”
“Oh.” He seemed to think for a moment. “That’s cool. I can understand.”
The car slowed perceptibly and Mel wanted to scream. Okay, she shouldn’t have used him to get Brant angry; it was childish and foolish and all that and more, but…what? Love made you stupid? “I’m sorry I kissed you, all right?”
He nodded silently.
After a moment he mumbled, “I’m not.”
“Not what?” Mel’s mind was already on Maria; she couldn’t just leave the girl. Whether she had any legal right to be her guardian, or if she worked at DI or not, she could NOT walk away from a scared little girl who needed her more than ever.
“I’m not sorry you kissed me,” he said quietly.
Mel sat back and closed her eyes. “Look, I didn’t mean anything by it; I was just angry and trying to…”
“Piss off your boyfriend?”
“Yeah,” she whispered, more to herself. It was too hard to explain, too new to not be painful, and this kid didn’t need the details.
He shrugged. “That’s okay.” He smiled in the rearview, meeting her eyes. He had nice eyes. Brown. “You’re a pretty good kisser.”
Mel stifled a laugh but gave him a smile, surprised that she still knew how.
“Thanks,” he said, meeting her eyes again. “For the kiss.”
“You’re welcome.”
How had she gotten to this point? The last two days had been completely surreal. Somehow, she’d gone from rejecting a rich doctor to ending up in the arms of an Uber driver barely out of high school. And then turning him down, too.
Oh, if this isn’t every girl’s dream.
The car came to a screeching halt and she realized that she was somewhere. A façade with a certain familiarity, no doorman. Nothing ornate or ostentatious, but a solid brand. A name she knew and could reasonably trust. Something that should be in her budget for a day or two.
It’s not like she needed it for very long. Just through the surgery. Then I can go…somewhere.
She glanced at the driver, who was waiting for her on the sidewalk. He already had her suitcase out of the back. Time to gather what was left of her belongings and her dignity and get on with her life. She shoved the clothes cascading out of her carryon back into its depths, and this time pulled the zipper across to keep them imprisoned within. “Thank you,” she said as she got out of the car, and handed him a generous tip.
“Listen,” he said slowly as he pocketed the bill, “if you and he don’t—”
“It’s not going to happen!” Mel laughed. “Thanks for the offer, though.”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” The kid grinned and handed the suitcase to her. “And hey, we’ve still got that kiss, right?”
Mel shook her head, and was still fighting a smile as he tore away. No doubt on his way to his next job.
As it turned out, being propositioned by an underage surfer from behind the wheel of a Jeep was the only bright spot of the last two days.
The hotel wasn’t actually in her price range despite the name brand. If this was where he’d normally take his conquests, she had to up-think how much a driver like that makes. She swallowed and handed over the credit card, with a soft whimper that she didn’t think anyone besides herself actually heard.
At least the accommodations were comfortable. After a long soak in the tub she wrapped up in the hotel bathrobe, flipping through three dozen channels to discover there was nothing she had any interest in watching. She had three books with her, mostly romantic trash that had left her thinking of him on the way to L.A. Now they seemed to mock her from the other side of the room, where they lay half-burying her phone.
The phone. It was still DI property even if she wasn’t. She might not be allowed to return to her precious clinic, but she could call it on their dime.
“Hello?” a familiar voice answered rather curtly.
“Carmen.” Mel’s throat constricted at the sound of her voice. She couldn’t believe Kenneth hadn’t screened the call first. “It’s Dr. Bell. How is everything there?”
“Apparently, we’re having some phone difficulty,” the woman cracked. “The reception keeps going out.”
“Oh?” Mel tried to understand. The woman had never been overtly friendly, but at least there hadn’t been any ill will between them. Mel had secretly harbored some illusion that the woman was fond of her. What gives?
“Yes,” Carmen snapped. “I keep getting lines crossed and other conversations intruding into official business. Just yesterday, while speaking to someone in the States, there was interference on the line, someone talking about a doctor who was no longer allowed to communicate with a clinic somewhere. I reported it to the phone company at once, of course.”
“Carmen…” Mel swallowed hard, touched beyond measure. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Doctor, but reporting problems with the phone is part of my job.”
“So it is.” Mel smiled and relaxed back against the pillows. “How is everyone?”
“The temporary doctor might know how to hold a stethoscope,” Carmen conceded reluctantly, “but management of a clinic isn’t in his training. Some of the staff have offered to lend a hand.”
“Meaning he’s screwing up and you’re running it behind his back?”
“See? That’s what I mean, right there. Did you hear that little snippet of conversation that has nothing to do with us?”
Mel laughed. “I’m glad you can handle it, Carmen, I really am.”
“Just until your return, Doctor,” she said in that clipped, efficient voice. Was that a shade of warmth? Either Carmen was softening or, after all these years, Mel was getting better at hearing between the lines.
“Well…I’m not sure…I might be bringing Maria home, but then again…I might not. It’s difficult to say.” She looked up as tears threatened to fall. She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to talk. “I’m officially off the payroll.”
“I see.” Carmen sniffed, conveying several shades of haughtiness in that single noise. “I assume you’re running off with your rich doctor?”
Mel bit her lip, and willed herself not to cry. She fought to keep her voice steady. Noncommittal. “No.”
“Why the hell not? I would in a minute. What’s wrong with you?”
Leave it to Carmen to hear what Mel didn’t want her to.
“I…it’s a long story. Anyway, this has nothing to do with him. This is all about Doctors International. The head of the organization…”
“Ken Holdman?”
Mel was surprised. “You know him?”
“Doctor, it is surprisingly easy to run a clinic,” Carmen harrumphed, “once you know how to file the right paperwork. There are people to call for that. People who are familiar with all kinds of paperwork filed by other people.”
“Wait, Carmen; explain that.”
“When we started having phone problems, I thought it would be best to go through email
for some items, just to be safe. I had a friend in the office send me some items to use as a template for filling out the right forms.” There was a pause. “One or two are not forms we would use normally. Or at all.”
“I see.” Mel didn’t.
“How about I forward them to you, so you can see what I’m looking at. It would be helpful to get a second opinion.”
“I’ll do what I can…”
“I know you will, Doctor,” Carmen said flatly. “I’ll see you in a few days then.” And the phone went dead.
Five minutes later, Mel ran from the hotel to max out her credit card on a laptop and printer.
* * *
She stood in the waiting room, drinking a three-dollar cup of coffee. Three dollars for a cup of coffee. If that was an indication of the cost of living in this place, maybe Brant wasn’t so rich after all. It would only take one or two runs to the coffee place in the hospital to wipe out the family fortune.
Well, he and his fiancée can have it.
She wasn’t going to come today. She’d debated even as she got up this morning. Halfway through her shower she’d decided it would be better to stay at the hotel and wait for updates there. But by the time she’d hit breakfast she knew she had to come. For Maria’s sake, if not her own. Even though the last place she wanted to be was standing in a hospital waiting room, the same waiting room she’d been in yesterday when she’d lost everything.
Remember that. It’s for Maria. It’s important to be here for her. We’ve come all this way. Not for me. For her. You have a responsibility. You’re her guardian. DI or not. Mel sighed and sipped the sludge that cost like liquid gold and tasted like warm motor oil, and stared out of the window at waving palm trees, and waited.
“Pardon me,” a voice said behind her, “are you Dr. Melissa Bell?”
Mel half-turned, and stared blankly at the old man with the cane. He had kind eyes. Deferential manners. No cameras.
Where had she seen him before?
“Yes. I’m Dr. Bell.”