Chapter 1 - Emma

Insecurity doesn’t look good on anyone, I tell myself.  I’m not usually like this, but the stress from the past few months has been building up far too much.  I tuck a strand of my ridiculously curly brown hair behind my ear.  I square my shoulders: I’m the girl with the big hair and the bright red lips that can light up a room!  I’m the one that people look at, the one people walk up to.  I’m not the one that’s crippled by debts and insecurities.  

I take a deep breath.  It’s just first day jitters.  The first day at a new job is always the roughest, or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.  I’m nervous, but so far everyone I’ve met has been nice.

I’m staring at the coffee machine in the office’s kitchen like it’s about to start talking to me.   It might, for all I know - this thing has more buttons than my TV remote.  All I want is a nice strong cup of coffee and I feel like I’m face to face with some sort of IQ test.  There’s a basket of pods beside the machine but I haven’t figured out how they actually turn into the liquid gold I’m craving.  I glance around.  No one’s here to help me.

I desperately need a coffee already, and it’s not even 9am.  I need this job.  Badly.  I’ve got debts that need to be paid, and collection time is coming around faster than I’m comfortable with.  I try not to think about it right now, but the thought of what I need to pay back creeps into my mind and I’m nervous all over again.  There’s a lot riding on this job.

I’m working the reception desk at New York’s most prestigious plastic surgery office, and so far I’ve seen a stream of gorgeous men and women walk in and out for their consultations.  I look down at my own clothes, a white shirt and grey pencil skirt, and I can help but notice the lumps and bumps on my body.  I never knew how self conscious I could be until I was surrounded by an industry that is based on superficiality.

I just need a coffee, and I need to relax.  

I open the cupboard above the coffee machine for a mug. None in this one.  I try the next cupboard over.  Nope, not that one either.  I’m on to the third cupboard when I hear - no, I sense - him come into the kitchen.  I turn my head as he slides in next to me and then reaches down to the cupboard near my legs.  His hand extends towards the handle and my heart starts beating faster.  

My eyes drag along his arm, noticing how muscular his forearm is, how broad and strong his hand looks.  His white doctor’s overcoat is pulling at the shoulders, betraying how wide they are.  He bends down and his dark brown hair falls across his temple.  He opens the cupboard and pulls out two mug, finally standing up and handing one of them to me.  Our eyes meet and my throat tightens.  I struggle to swallow, suddenly my mouth feels as dry as the Sahara.

He extends the mug towards me and I reach out to take it, still staring at him wordlessly.  His eyes are an icy blue, set off by his thick, dark lashes.  They look like they’re a thousand miles deep, as cold and unreadable as the ocean in the wintertime.  I can feel the heat from his body radiating towards me and it’s making me almost dizzy.  Our fingers brush each other as the mug exchanges from his hand to mine.  My skin sizzles where it touches his fingers, making my cheeks burn even hotter.  The touch of his skin sends a thrill through my arm and I look away from him, trying to hide my embarrassment.

My knees feel weak, and an empty, gnawing feeling grows in the pit of my stomach.  I know what it is: it’s raw, unbridled desire.  I can feel the blood rushing between my legs and the heat rising in my cheeks.  

“Thanks,” I croak, struggling to find my voice.  I glance back up at him and his eyes are still trained on me, studying me.  “I’m Emma.”

“Doctor Davis,” he responds curtly.  He nods to the machine.  “You done?”

“I.. uh.  Yeah,” No.  “Go ahead.”  I shuffle out of the way as he steps towards me, one eyebrow raised expectantly.  Rude.  Typical arrogant surgeon.

I step aside and he puts his mug under a spout.  My eyes drift over his arms, his chest, up his neck to his stubbly chin.  He’s handsome, and obviously strong.  I need to stop staring.  I clear my throat, trying to think of something to say.

“I’m new here, I work the reception.”

He glances over at me without responding, and then looks back to his cup.  The machine is rumbling to life, spurting out some coffee into his mug.  He says nothing, and keeps his eyes on his coffee.  What an ass!  I’m just trying to make casual conversation, the least he could do is make small talk.

I roll my eyes and lean on the cupboard, looking towards the door.  He finishes with the machine and steps aside.  I glance over at him and then look away again, staring at the machine in front of me.  My heart is beating fast and my cheeks feel flushed.  I’m trying not to think about the curve of his chest, or the way his eyes raked along my body sending an electric thrill through me.  

I take one of the coffee pods from the basket next to the machine and clutch it between my fingers.  I put the mug underneath a spout and… shit.  I should have watched what he was doing instead of staring at his muscles.

I poke one of the buttons at random.  With a high-pitched whistle, a burning hot jet of water and steam starts shooting out of one of the spouts on the side.  I yelp, jumping back as the counter and half the cupboards are engulfed in the column of steam.  

Without a word, the doctor jumps over and presses the button again, stopping the column of steam from spraying any more. He says nothing, instead turning around and stalking out of the kitchen.  I watch him turn the corner and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

I’m stunned, shocked, like the ground is unsteady underneath me.  The embarrassment is red hot inside me, my cheeks burning even after he’s left.  I’m not actually sure if it’s embarrassment or desire, I just know I feel flushed and weak.  His eyes read me like a book.  His obvious lack of interest in me did nothing to stifle the warmth that blossomed inside me as soon as I saw him.

I turn around slowly, facing the coffee machine again.  I feel like I’m in a stupor.  I stare at the buttons again, still having no idea how to extract the black liquid from the machine.  

“Looks like you met Elliot,” a jovial voice booms behind me.  I turn around and see Dave’s familiar face smiling over at me.

“Hey Dave,” I smile back.  “Yeah I guess you could call it meeting him.” I laugh nervously.  “Not much of a talker, is he?”

“He definitely has the whole quiet, mysterious thing going on, old Doctor Davis does,” Dave chuckles.  He slides in beside me and opens the cupboard, grabbing himself a mug.  He has a quiet, easy confidence about him.  Every movement is smooth and deliberate.  You can’t help but feel comfortable around Dave.

“You seem to be having quite the existential crisis there, staring at that coffee machine,” he says, laughing.  “You do realise it makes coffee, right?”

I glance over at him, squeezing out a grin.  

“Don’t worry,” he says, turning towards the coffee machine.  “This thing is really finicky.  It looks super fancy but it’s actually a piece of junk.”

Dave smacks the top of the machine with an open palm and a little door pops open.  He slides my coffee pod in and places a mug underneath one of the spouts.  He turns his head to me and smiles reassuringly.  I take a deep breath.  It’s just first-day-at-work nerves.  I definitely am not shaken up by the icy blue eyes that bore into me earlier, and the spicy, manly scent that trailed behind Dr. Davis.

Dave presses one of the button and the machine rumbles to life again.  Within a few seconds, rich, black coffee starts pouring into my cup.

“Thanks,” I respond.  

His hand extends towards me with the steaming mug.  I take a sip of the hot liquid and enjoy the bitter, smooth taste as it fills my mouth.  I sigh, satisfied.

“Thanks again for getting me this job, Davey.  I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it,” I say gratefully as Dave makes his own cup of coffee.  He has no idea how desperate I was for a job when he offered to help.

“Oh, stop,” he smiles at me.  “Anything for my boy Clay.”

I smile at him, glad to see a familiar face.  I take a deep breath, still trying to quell the heat that grew inside me when Dr. Davis’ skin brushed against mine.

“Have you seen Clay and Val since they got back from their vacation?” I ask, trying to generate some small talk to distract myself from the beating of my heart and the wetness that flooded between my legs a few seconds ago.

My best friend, Valerie, is engaged to his best friend, Clay.  They’re made for each other, and seeing their love has made me feel… not jealous.  Lonely?  Alone?

My thoughts drift to the silent doctor.  I haven’t felt my heart beat that fast in a long time.  I stare off into nothing, thinking about his hand brushing mine, the heat from his body, how pillowy soft his lips looked..

“Come on,” Dave says as I’m pulled out of my daydream.  “I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team.  Don’t worry, they’re a lot more friendly than Elliot.  You’ll be fine.”

I exhale, smiling at him.  I haven’t heard a word Dave has said.  My heart beats a bit faster when he mentions Elliot’s name.  I wouldn’t mind being introduced to him properly, but that would probably require me to form full sentences in front of him and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.  Today is turning out to be way more stressful than I thought it would be, but not for the reason I was expecting.