I Wanna Sext You Up

by Evie Claire

  Dr. Sherazi’s office was sparse. Not surprising. They were close in age. And in addition to dating an asshole here and there, Lorie also believed that guys her age needed another five years to mature.

  Lorie bent over his messy desk to check out a group of framed pictures. Even upside down, they were precious. Without thinking, she picked one up for closer inspection. Who were the two cuties? Little girls, eyes dark as night, sparkling like stars, smiled at her from a hand-painted Popsicle-stick frame. Next to them, an older couple—the man exotically dark like Dr. Sherazi and the woman a petite blonde with pulsating blue eyes—stood arm in arm in front of what was probably the Grand Canyon. His parents maybe?

  Behind her, the door snicked closed. Startled, she swirled around with a gasp, the picture still in her hands.

  “Dr. Sherazi!” she exclaimed.

  Realizing she was busted snooping through his stuff, her nerves lit up like a live wire.

  Great.

  A welcoming smile washed over her face, her immediate reaction to any situation. His brow furrowed lower over his eyes than it normally did, fixated with that Voldemort stare on the picture clutched to her breast. That was the thing about him. He rarely made eye contact. If ever. Which gave one the distinct impression he didn’t particularly care to interact with you.

  “You scared me.” Lorie tilted her head and nervously cleared her throat.

  “Ms. Braddock.” He said her name very matter-of-factly, like he was reading off a gym class roster.

  “Yes!” Lorie recovered, nodding and moving toward him. “I had a meeting at the coffee shop where I saw you earlier,” Lorie rambled trying to jog his memory about their meeting. “I thought I’d stop by and reintroduce myself.”

  Still, the man didn’t make eye contact. Weird and unsettling on a major scale. He did, however, begin walking toward her. Unsure of where he wanted reps to stand in his office, she stopped beside the extra chair opposite his desk. Once she stopped, he extended his hand toward her. Lorie assumed to shake. Only when she offered hers, their fingers collided awkwardly. He recoiled and kept his gaze lowered.

  Again, his hand extended. Slowly. This time Lorie simply watched as it moved, holding her breath. No clue what he was trying to do.

  “Oh…right…sorry! Cute kids.” She tried to smile through her nerves when it was clear what he was reaching for. “I didn’t realize you were a dad.”

  Silence.

  Deafening silence.

  Dr. Sherazi walked around to his side of the desk and put the frame back in the exact spot it had been in before she dared to disturb it.

  “I’m not married,” he offered into the silence in a dissonant tone that basically yelled he insisted on marriage as a precursor to kids. Right. Okay, she wasn’t pulling the train any farther down the track.

  “I brought you a large dirty chai latte.” Lorie offered the cup and a nod across the desk, taking the chair and trying her darnedest to force cool, calm collection into her body. Because the meeting was having the exact opposite effect on her. “I know how frustrating it can be when you don’t get your morning caffeine fix.”

  He focused on the cup that she offered, his face still blank. Silent seconds passed, and the cup began to waver in Lorie’s outstretched hand.

  “Would your company consider this a bribe?” His tone was deadpan. His scowl tracing over the order scribbled down the side of the cup, one that bore her name next to a smiley face. She took a deep breath and held it. Then placed the cup in front of him.

  Was he calling her out? Yes, it was a violation of her company’s policies and in truth, if he really wanted to be a dick, he could contact Durden Pharmaceuticals and get her in trouble. But why would he? Why would anyone? It was just coffee. What was happening? How had the moment strayed so far from the path? She needed to get it together. And fast.

  Resting her arms on the desk, she leaned into him. “I paid for it. Out of my own pocket. You’re new. So am I. I’m simply trying to get to know you, Dr. Sherazi.” She waved a hand toward his cup. It was just coffee with the expectation of a little conversation. An international let’s-get-to-know-each-other gesture.

  “Why?” He shrugged, still looking at the cup skeptically.

  “I can help you. I can help your patients. My company offers a lot of resources—prescription assistance, patient education, continuing education for you. But I can’t know what you need from me if I don’t know you.” She didn’t mean to emphasize the last word with such implied intimacy. It just came out of her. But there it was nonetheless—leaving what remained of her professionalism in tatters.

  Still, she wasn’t swayed from the mission. Lorie cleared her throat and squared her shoulders, noticing the perspiration now dampening her armpits. Great. Had the heat suddenly cranked up to ninety? Or was the man’s magnetic field a little too strong?

  She was about to pack up and go home when he stopped staring at the coffee and stirred. Maybe her tone had touched something in him. Because, for the first time, possibly ever, he looked up and right at her. The instant their gazes met she knew exactly why the man didn’t make any more eye contact than he did.

  Because…um…what?

  Caught somewhere between shock and awe—and wholly incapable of looking away—she recalled a vague memory. A pageant trip to Washington, D.C. The natural history museum, maybe? A stage-lit glass case. A dove gray display pedestal. Smack dab in the middle of it all, a diamond—a big freakin’ diamond. Blue and sparkly and perfect. So perfect, it was called the Hope Diamond. Because seeing such brilliance stirred something deep inside. A sense of optimism that came out of nowhere and washed every other thought from your brain. Blinding in its simple beauty.

  The eyes that stared across the desk at her stirred something similar—something that fluttered around her chest and floated down into her belly. Without any conscious thought whatsoever, she leaned in. Drawn closer to him and the magic happening behind his lashes. Propping an elbow on the desk, she rested her chin in her hand and stared. Only to realize several seconds later what she was actually doing. Clutching her fluttery middle with crossed arms, she quickly sat back in her chair.

  No wonder the man didn’t lock eyes with people. Lorie had spent a large part of life surrounded by beautiful people groomed to pageant perfection and even she had trouble coaxing her jaw back to its natural state of rest. Warm exotic skin, close-cropped dark hair, and piercing blue eyes were beyond what one might call beautiful. By Lorie’s estimation, the term hot AF had just found its visual definition. Which was beyond weird.

  She knew she should stop staring. Close her mouth, look away, slap a smile on it. Something. Anything. She was a Southern girl. Things like manners were permanently etched in the DNA. But she physically couldn’t. The man was magic.

  “Research,” Dr. Sherazi finally said, looking away and breaking the spell.

  “Re…research?” Lorie scrambled to regain her composure. “What kind of research?”

  “Specifically, in the juvenile diabetic patient,” he continued, now digging in a desk drawer for something.

  “Dr. Samuel Rogers at the CDC is a big fan of Lampalin. Are you familiar with his work? He’s speaking at a dinner program for Durden tonight in Macon. You could come, if you like.”

  Dr. Sherazi offered nothing more than a nod. A nod that meant he knew Dr. Rogers? A nod that meant he was interested in coming? A nod that could be nothing more than a neck spasm? He was impossible to read.

  “I’d be happy to introduce you.” She continued simply to fill the void he created.

  If he heard the offer, he didn’t accept it. Instead, he remained half buried, digging through his desk drawers, resurfacing only long enough to set his phone beside those picture frames he was so particular about.

  “Look!” Lorie exclaimed, pulling her phone from her coat pocket. “We have the same phon
e cover.” Lorie sat the two phones beside each other, comparing the nondescript black silicone that encased their phones. Somewhere inside, she held on to the tiniest hope that this might somehow ingratiate her to the doctor.

  It didn’t.

  Was there anything worse than the dreaded awkward silence? If there was, she couldn’t recall it as she sat there drowning in their silence. And if she was buck naked while she waited, it would only be slightly more uncomfortable.

  “This song…” She pointed to the ceiling where the music piped from a hidden speaker. “I cannot place it, and it’s driving me crazy.” Of course, she didn’t expect him to answer. He hadn’t responded to anything else, and only a music lover would know the answer. A love of music usually implied a certain level of sociability. Social skills didn’t seem very high on his priority list.

  What is he doing?

  It was beginning to resemble an archeological dig the way he rummaged through the drawers. Intent on something but paying her zero attention. Maybe the meeting was over, and he’d forgotten to tell her? Deflated, she turned for her bag…and nearly climbed out of her skin when his hand landed on hers.

  Totally caught off guard, she swallowed a shriek but remained motionless. If someone walked in and found them holding hands the moment would surely be misconstrued. She pulled away. But when his gaze fluttered to meet hers again, she stopped. The blue eyes weren’t icy anymore. Something had softened them. And then something softened her, too. His fingers slid up to her wrist and then guided her hand across the desktop until her knuckles rested on a stack of papers halfway between them.

  Once it was clear she wouldn’t recoil again, he turned his attention to her hand. With his head bowed, she was only vaguely aware of what was happening. There was a Band-Aid sitting beside her hand, one he’d found in his desk drawer. One he skillfully unwrapped and placed over the thin line of blood darkening Lorie’s index finger. All she could do was watch.

  Something in his touch calmed her nerves, causing her to exhale the tension from her shoulders. Was that something they taught at med school or was it him? With his attention focused solely on her cut, he appeared caring, not cold. The attention he paid to detail, manipulating the finger to be sure the bandage wouldn’t restrict her range of motion, wasn’t exactly the act of an indifferent man.

  “Thank you,” she offered in a whisper.

  He released her hand, wadding the discarded wrapper in his palm. She brought the dressed wound closer for inspection, inhaling the powdery-sterile scent of a fresh bandage. Somewhere in her periphery she was vaguely aware of him signing her tablet for the samples she’d left. And rummaging for something again. This time in his lab coat pocket. He paused. Looked up to the ceiling and allowed the edge of his mouth to purse ever so slightly.

  “Rock me, Mama…” he said, eyes still on the ceiling.

  “Excuse me?” Lorie’s eyes went wide, wondering if her hearing had suffered some sort of injury as well. Because…um…what? Rock me, Mama?

  “Like a wagon wheel?” he finished, putting emphasis on the last two words. She picked up his bread crumbs. The tune playing overhead. The words of a song she’d loved since she had first heard it.

  “Oh!” Lorie exclaimed, hands falling from her hips, breathing deeply and finally finding her smile. “Yeah. Old Crow Medicine Show. Right? You know them?”

  His head nodded in tune to the song, but he said nothing.

  Finally, Lorie decided to shut her mouth, see if he was just the kind of person that needed a second more than others to talk. She shifted in her shoes. Silence was agony for her.

  “Dylan.” He tsked under his voice. “But at least you didn’t say Darius Rucker.” He spun on his loafer and made his way to the door without saying goodbye, leaving Lorie feeling like any common ground they had established through the song was quicksand. He did look her way again. Only to toss a five-dollar bill onto the desk beside her.

  “Don’t buy me coffee.” Without another word he left the room.

  Silence.

  Again.

  Deafening silence.

  Lorie stared at the closed door, amazement distorting her face.

  What the literal hell had just transpired in the last five minutes of her life? Seriously. What? Societal norms alone should have caused the man to feel some responsibility to engage in normal civilized conversation. She was trying to be helpful, after all.

  She rubbed her thumb over the Band-Aid he’d so expertly fastened around her cut. One minute Dr. Sherazi was an asshole that couldn’t even be bothered to answer a simple yes or no question. The next he was bandaging a cut she had forgotten she had. There simply wasn’t logic to define behavior like his. At least not any she’d ever come across.

  She shoved everything into her tote and exited the building, saying her goodbyes in a sort of daze that followed her to the car. She was sitting behind the wheel, clasping it tightly in her hands, breathing slowly and methodically when she finally decided it was beyond comprehension.

  She kicked her heels off and pushed them to the side. After a meeting like that she needed to collect herself before it ruined the rest of her day. Pushing up her sleeve, she used her watch to send a text.

  Still dress shopping? I’m free.

  Chapter 3

  Lorie

  Lorie sat enveloped in a cream-colored cloud of a chair, ignoring the tinge of nerves that tightened her shoulders every time she thought about it—Liza is marrying Jay Baxter. The news hadn’t sunk in yet. When it did, she would be overjoyed for her friend. Of course, she would.

  For now, she was genuinely trying to feel the smile plastered on her face, ignoring any other emotions by fiddling with her Apple Watch. Why was the thing acting so shady? She’d just used it thirty minutes ago to text Liza. Now it was acting like it didn’t even know who she was. Must be the battery. She’d have to find her phone when she got back to the car.

  “Are you ready?” Liza asked from behind a white velvet curtain.

  “Bring it!” Lorie answered.

  Tentatively, Liza stepped around the curtain in a full lace gown that was the essence of understated, simplistic beauty. In that moment, with her jaw on her chest, every hesitation Lorie had about the whole situation flowed from her body. Even if it was only for a second. Her best friend looked gorgeous. And happy. Really freakin’ happy. Lorie simply had to find a way to get over herself.

  “You are exquisite!” Lorie brought a hand to her mouth, feeling her eyes warm at the corners. She blinked the tears away, but Liza noticed. Which only drew the smile farther across her face.

  “That’s exactly what Mom said when she saw it earlier.” Her smile fell as she continued. “Before she told me to take it off.”

  “Oh, is it crazy expensive?” Lorie grimaced, then immediately began wondering if it would be inappropriate to offer some financial help. Lorie was making good money now. And the gown was perfect on Liza.

  “No.” Liza slyly pursed her lips and inched around on the pedestal.

  “Whoa…” Lorie’s mouth fell farther open. The gown that was all ladylike elegance in the front had a serious party going on in the back. One that stopped just shy of exposing some butt cleavage. But, on Liza, it was stunning. “Well, I can see why your mom would say that. Her generation isn’t used to styles like this, but it looks incredible. You look incredible.” Lorie stood, walking around her friend to get a better view of things. “Annnnd, if you stand at the altar of Social Circle United Methodist wearing this, there won’t be a single judgy eyeball on me. Which is even better.” The words were out before Lorie could stop them. And even though it was a harmless comment, her friend’s bare back stiffened. “Shit…” she muttered under her breath.

  “Can you give us a minute?” Liza turned to the saleslady who had very professionally vanished into a corner the moment Liza stepped from behind the
curtain.

  “Of course, would you like me to help you out of the gown first?”

  “Oh no, my friend here is a former beauty queen. She was almost Miss Georgia several years ago. She’s excellent with formal dresses.” Liza’s look was tight and hard. Sensing the emotional hurricane preparing to make landfall, the saleslady exited with a bow.

  Lorie took a seat, already shaking her head, hating the conversation she knew was coming.

  “Do you want me to help you out of the dress?” Lorie mumbled, without making eye contact.

  “No, I want us to talk about this. Right now.” Liza hopped off the dressing platform, quickly covering the handful of steps between them. “I know you hate coming home. I know Social Circle holds a million bad memories for you. But I’m hoping our friendship means enough that you can get over it. For one day, at least.”

  Lorie leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. Shaking her head back and forth, she let out a sigh, trying to force away the sick feeling swirling in her belly.

  “I would do anything for you, Liza. But I just can’t stomach the pity in everyone’s eyes. You know? I know what they’re thinking.” Lorie sighed again, but it didn’t help.

  “Sweetie, people don’t blame you for what happened.”

  “So, they judge my dad? My mom? That’s even worse because I can’t defend them.” Lorie looked up, her chin trembling when she thought about what people probably said about her parents.

  “Your dad made a bad decision. Everyone makes those.”

  “Not quite as spectacular as his.”

  “My uncle was this close to investing, too.” Liza held up two fingers an inch apart. “Half the town was. Your dad made a bad choice, and you guys went from the penthouse to the poorhouse. You weren’t the only ones.”