Holly
My hunger and Church’s chili hit it off. I sucked down the first bowl, and for the most part, ignored the man next to me. Help arrived in the form of Gable’s girlfriend.
“Cowboy called and said their night-out had ended at Church’s. I didn’t want to miss the party.”
I looked around. I didn’t see a party. I saw a room filled with big men. Obviously, more had arrived since when I’d been led in. Marty remained on guard next to me, ogling my mirrored reflection.
I took off my hat and shoved it in my pocket, revealing my short hair, ala Megan.
“Oh, I like the haircut.”
I preened. Megan was a beautician. She practiced her skills on Roger and me whenever we needed a trim or style. This time, she said she’d gotten it shorter than she intended, but I loved it.
I had a hard time keeping my hand from petting my own head. Janie’s third-party opinion confirmed the style. I figured it looked a good deal better than the Marilyn wig she’d seen me in before.
“Are you staying long?” she asked.
“No. Did you get your floor finished?” It was good seeing her. It surprised me how much.
“Nope.” She looked guilty. “I need to get a second coat on but, I work from home, and I tend to start projects that don’t get finished until I’m not busy. Right now, I’m chasing myself back and forth between two jobs, and the floor is on hold.”
Given my intention of saying a final goodbye to Marty, and Janie’s man being Marty’s friend, we probably wouldn’t see much of each other in the future. That was a shame. I liked her.
Chalk-up one more demerit against Marty. I wanted to talk kitchen upgrades. Instead I had to deal with the guy loitering on the stool next to me.
“Church, could you take a break from eavesdropping with Marty long enough to get me another chili, peanut butter, and milk combo?” I felt as if I hadn’t eaten in days.
I refused to turn and look at Marty, but over Church’s shoulder in the mirror, I could see his sheepish grin. Neither man denied they’d been listening to our chatter. I sighed and turned back to Janie.
“I’d rather talk to you, Harley-Jane, but I need to get something settled with Marty.”
“It was good seeing you again,” she agreed and nodded at the clock. “I’ll probably go on home. We should get together soon. You need to check out my kitchen floor. Why don’t you give me your phone number?”
I stared from her face to my phone then back at her face.
“Or not,” she answered herself.
“Here,” I said, handing it to her.
“You sure?” Her tone might have been a tad sarcastic, but she added her number and gave the phone back. I called her cell, let it ring once and disconnected. “All set.”
Then I felt compelled to explain, even though Church and he-who-would-not-be-named were both leaning close again to hear.
“I left this phone in the cab the night of the dance. That left me stranded and at the mercy of the unknown.” I scowled at Marty’s image in the mirror and turned back to Janie. “I thought I was going to have to get a new cellphone, but the cab company returned it. I didn’t realize how much information I store on this thing. And, now, I’m traumatized and almost afraid to let it out of my grip.”
I slid my phone into the pocket of my jacket and picked up the food, balancing the sandwich on top of the chili bowl as I walked to an empty booth by the wall. I tried to act nonchalant but couldn’t hide my grin. I don’t have many friends. I kind of hoped I’d just added one. Giving Janie my number was a big deal, since I didn’t share contact information with many.
Before I sat down, I checked to make sure I could see the door. Then I called Megan. As soon as she answered I said, “Church’s place. Now.”
My order in place, I hung up and waved at Janie who stood beside Gable, who stood beside Marty, who stood beside my booth.
“Call me,” Janie said, and she and Gable left me to face Marty alone.
“Ready to talk?” he asked, ignoring everyone but me.
“You can sit if you can listen,” I told him. “If not, be warned, I will not put up with being stalked.”
“My apologies. I didn’t know how to reach you other than at your night job.” It was interesting watching an arrogant bastard try to school his expression to benign. I had no such problem.
“You told me what you wanted. I declined. What else is there to say?” I made my question off-hand, like it didn’t matter. Because, I assured myself, it really didn’t.
“It’s only a dance for God’s sake. It’s for charity.” I could see him struggling with his nice persona. “I’d like to hire you to be my partner.”
Church made good chili, and I spooned it in, eating half of the second peanut butter sandwich before I answered. “No.” I didn’t bother to be polite. The same rules I used when dealing with Megan seemed best used in this case, too.
“Why? We were good together.”
I took my time, organizing the words in my head so I would get it right when I answered.
I cleared my throat. His eyebrow went up. Boss man’s mock humility had begun to melt around the edges.
“First,” I said and took a sip of water. “I do not now, nor have I ever, worked for Maxine’s Baby Doll Escort Service.” I mentally quibbled with that announcement even as I made the claim. Technically, I’d been working for Maxine at the dance-a-thon.
“Except for the charity event. Being your dance partner for the dance-a-thon was a one-time event. Maxine had no escorts who could keep up with you—her words. Because I am a friend of her family, she was aware that I enjoy dancing and do it well. I agreed to help her please a desperate client who needed a dance partner. Nothing else was on the table.”
I wanted it clear he was a one-off, and I immediately felt better having set the record straight.
He relaxed and looked interested, almost pleased. When he opened his mouth, I shook my head, indicating it wasn’t his turn. I didn’t tell him it never would be, since I had no intentions of listening to anything he said. I had a feeling he already knew that. His mouth curved into a wolfish smile. I hurried on with what I had to say.
“Nothing but dancing was supposed to happen. I’ve treated the incident as if that and that alone is what did take place.” I paused to let those words sink in.
He leaned his elbows on the table, clasped his hands in front of him, made a stand for his head and rested his chin on his thumbs. His gaze was steady, his expression blank, at least I couldn’t read it. But I had his attention.
“I am not a prostitute. I don’t sell sex or exchange it for favors. I don’t care if others do. But, to clarify this issue, I. Don’t. Maxine paid me for showing up and dancing through the night. I repaid your taxi cab fare loan and donated the rest to the burn victim’s family.”
And that still grated. Aside from my decision to donate to a good cause, I would have had no problem pocketing the payment if the evening hadn’t ended on Marty’s couch with me screaming through too many orgasms to count. But, since it did end that way, the line between when the night ended, and I went off the clock was just too blurred.
“I agree that our dance performance was outstanding. We were synchronized. I had no difficulty following your lead. If I’m in the market for another dance partner, I’ll think of you. Be sure and let me know what you charge.”
Score me! He winced noticeably, and delayed satisfaction warmed my insides. I was on a roll and decided to let it all hang out.
“Last. I have no idea if you are hinting, asking, or maneuvering to have sex with me, again. You were my first. It was an interesting experience. Mostly good,” I hastened to add when he opened his mouth.
He growled, ready to protest, complain, or argue. Or maybe bite me. That was a bad thought, since he had bitten me before.
My breasts tingled, and my nipples turned into bullet points. For pity’s sake, behave. I finished the speech I’d practiced while sanding my kitchen cupboards. I knew this part by heart.
“I’ve thought about dancing with you again, maybe even having sex. I’ve decided against it. If it would be for one time, it’s not worth the effort. And if it would be for more than that, I don’t have the time. You’re a high maintenance guy. You’d want to know what I’m doing. You’d expect me to care about what you’re doing. It wouldn’t work, and I’m not interested in trying.” So there. I didn’t add nana nana boo-boo, but I’m pretty sure I telegraphed it with my expression.
“Now you’ve had your say, I get mine.” A tide of red climbed his neck and stained his ears. He lost his patient, contrite look, and lowered his arms to the table. I didn’t know if he was embarrassed or enraged.
How he feels doesn’t matter. He’d dragged me out of work, cost me tips, and was messing with my time. I reminded myself why I deserved to be pissed off and glared at him. He leaned across the table and got in my face, talking low enough so no one else could hear, but so I couldn’t miss it.
“Good to know you don’t work for Maxine. It could get awkward. As it is, we’ve just skipped over most of the in-between. I’m sorry our first fuck was bad for you. I’ll do better next time as we move along.”
“We’re not moving anywhere except separate ways,” I corrected him. I couldn’t have arranged a sweeter ending. Megan came through the door, grinned, and beckoned me. “And you can pay for my food since you cost me tips tonight.”
“Goodbye, Marty.” I stood and called across the room, “Great chili, Church. Thanks.”
“Hold up.” Marty caught my arm as I started for the door. “We’re not done talking.”
“Yes, we are.” My head suddenly felt as if it might explode. My stomach did a full roll, and goosebumps covered me in a cold sweat. It happened so fast, I didn’t have time to stagger to a restroom.
With no more warning than that, I heaved, decorating the size fifteen boots next to me with the chili, milk, and sandwiches I’d just eaten.
Instead of Megan’s assistance, I ended up with Marty Jones at my elbow, guiding me to what turned out to be Church’s one unisex bathroom. It didn’t allow for kneeling, never mind the germs swarming to grab hold of the acrobatic. I bent forward, leaning over Marty’s arm, using him for support as I vomited again and again. Finally, the heaving stopped.
“I’m fine,” I mumbled, clearly not. “I …” Another round of nausea hit me. I thought I’d emptied my stomach before, that proved untrue.
This time my stomach turned inside out, ridding itself of everything I’d eaten, including any stray crumbs that might have found their way to my toes.
In the throes of losing it, I appreciated the calloused hand holding me up as I aimed the stream of barf. Once I’d completely emptied my stomach I remembered the identity of my assistant. I would rather not have had Marty Jones as witness.
“Gross, gross, gross.” I finished heaving at last and found the strength to stand up straight. It took all I had left to make it to the sink, two steps away. I leaned on the edge and steadied myself as I washed my hands. When Marty appeared beside me and tried to wipe my face with a damp cloth, I ripped it from his hand.
“I can handle this,” I snapped. I looked past him at the open door where Church and Megan shared the view. “Megan, I want to go home.”
“After you see a doctor.” Marty Jones wasn’t shy about offering his opinion. He clearly didn’t understand how close I was to smacking him upside the head.
“If I don’t feel better tomorrow, I’ll go. Not tonight. I’m too tired. I’m going home.”
“If it’s food poisoning, you might be dead by tomorrow.” Church offered his opinion and Megan decided to chime in.
“You’re never sick.” She turned on Church. “You must have poisoned her. She’s never sick.” She turned back to me. “I’ll take you to the emergency room.”
“Fine.” I had no intentions of going to the hospital. I just wanted to go home and sleep. But I didn’t feel like arguing, either. I’d change Megan’s directions once we got in her car.
“She can lay down in my backseat. I’ll drive. Church, call Doc Wilson.”
Oh, for Pete’s sake.
Marty scooped me into his arms and carried me from the bathroom, through the bar, and to the door. I weigh-in at one-fifty-eight on a good day. Even pissed off at him, I admired his brute strength. Unlike the rough tosses, and hurried lifts on the dance floor, or his swift carry across the glass covered parking garage, this time when he cradled me in his arms, it was almost sweet the way he held me.
“Let me down you, big ox,” I snarled. At least, I tried to snarl. It came out more a whimper which he ignored.
Church said, “I’ll drive, I’m already out front.”
Megan said, “I’m following you.”
“I feel fine.” I’d feel a lot finer once I got home. That, I was sure of. There was nothing left of the nausea but a nasty taste in my mouth. Nobody paid attention to me.
I ended up stretched out on the seat of a very big truck with my head resting in Marty’s lap, him petting my hair until I smacked his hand away and sat up.
We didn’t go to a hospital. Instead, Church pulled into the parking lot of a clinic. The lights were on, and inside the front door, medical personnel, stood waiting.
Apparently, Smoke, Inc. had employed a teenager wearing jeans, a tee-shirt under his open lab coat, and a stethoscope dangling around his neck, to impersonate the company doctor. The name tag prominently displayed on the coat, said, Dr. Garret Wilson, M.D.
I did not feel reassured by the plaques on the wall, certifying the kid had graduated from medical school.
“You know, Megan. I feel fine. I think we should go home.”
Megan and I stood shoulder-to-shoulder in a cage of men. Church on her side, Marty on mine, another big guy I had not yet met, but felt certain I soon would, had taken his place behind us. I had no idea from where he’d come.
The doctor, being shorter than me by at least four inches, and slighter in build, seemed the easiest exit.
Normal hours were six to six, but he’d obviously accommodated Smoke, Inc. needs by being here. He was a company man through and through. But, a little one. I thought if push came to shove, I could get past him.
“I don’t know you from Ted’s dead grandma. Megan can come into the exam room with me.”
“Megan and I have words to say,” the unknown giant behind me inserted himself in my plan.
“And you would be…?”
“I’m Teague Logan, Megan’s man. Been hearing about you, for a while. Guess she didn’t mention me.”
I stared from him to her. “Sorry, Holly,” she apologized. “You go on inside. I’ll wait out here. If I don’t have this discussion with Teague, we’ll be here all night.”
“Keys.”
Her attempt to hand them to me was intercepted by Marty. “Will be waiting out here with me for your return.”
I gave up and followed Dr. Wilson to the exam room.
“Sorry about that. I really don’t have Marty kidnapping patients for me.” He explained apologetically that he’d perform a rudimentary examination and I could be on my way. Okay.
“What precipitated the attack?”
I shrugged. “I left work, stopped in at Church’s for some chili, got sick. I’m only here because I threw-up on Marty Jones’ shoes. Any other man would have cussed me out. Marty hustles me to an emergency room.”
“Have you known Marty long?”
“Barely know him at all.”
“Marty’s a take charge kind of guy. As you’ve just found out.”
“Well he can take charge of someone else. I just need to get this exam over, and by the way, how much will this cost?”
I might as well start the torture, now. My deductible was sky high, I never used my insurance, and if I could persuade the doctor to take direct payment as in cash up front, it would be even better.
“Don’t worry about that. Marty brought you here, so the company is covering it.”
“Smoke, Inc.?”
“Yes.”
I looked around. Nice office. Nice building. “Are you really a doctor? No offense, but you look about eighteen.”
He laughed. “I’m older than I look. There’s a nasty strain of flu going around. Did you have your shot this season?” When I’d turned the tables, and asked him questions, he hustled back to being a doctor.
“No.” I never get the flu, and the shot seemed a waste.
“Are you allergic to any…?”
His questions were routine. I answered them as he took my blood pressure, temperature, listened to my lungs, my heart.
“What about birth control?” he asked casually as he looked into my left ear. “Do you know your prescription?”
My head was tilted to accommodate the light shining instrument he held. I mumbled, “No.”
“That’s okay. I can look it up. It might be the cause of your nausea if you’ve recently made a change.”
“I don’t take pills other than aspirin.”
“Diaphragm, patch, IUD, Depo shot.”
After I shook my head indicating no for each, he finally added weakly, “Rhythm method?”
The last brought a snort of laughter I couldn’t suppress.
“So, no birth control.” His gruff voice telegraphed his disapproval.
“No, but it’s highly unlikely that…” My stomach lurched, and I felt the blood drain from my head. I honestly thought I might faint as a horrible possibility presented itself.
“I’ll visit my own doctor if I’m not better tomorrow. Thanks for coming in to accommodate Marty’s late-night demand.”
“Church is waiting to find out if he poisoned you.”
Basically, Dr. Wilson guilted me into submitting to a few more tests, finally establishing it wasn’t food poisoning causing my upset stomach. It was the baby Marty Jones had planted inside me.
“How can that be? It only happened once. I orgasmed many times during the once, does that count as more than once?” Stunned didn’t cover my emotional response. All rational thought departed.
“Did you use any form of prevention?” Young though he was, the doctor’s tone had become gruff and disapproving.
“Condom—it came off during. I guess it did. I had to fish it out afterward. Gross.”
It was his turn to look embarrassed and very young again. I think I gave him too much information.
“Wow. I hope you like this guy because—you do like this guy, right? It wasn’t forced?”
Oddly, the child doctor’s anxious concern steadied me into reassuring him. “Hey,” I said, and reached out to pat his arm. “It’s cool. I’m in the middle of remodeling, and my kitchen project is going to have to go on hold while I get a nursery finished.” My extraordinary stretch from reality to wonderland made him relax.
“Good. That’s good,” he muttered.
That of course remained to be seen, but I wasn’t one for sharing drama.
“This is private, right? I’m not interested in telling the peanut gallery outside.” I insisted the doctor keep my diagnosis to himself, laying on all kinds of reasons. “Church can make a fresh batch of chili after he scrubs his kitchen. His business won’t suffer from either outcome.” I finally piddled to a halt, returning his glare. Evidently, I’d insulted him.
“Of course, what I want to do more than anything is run out in the middle of the street and start telling your business. But, thankfully for you, I can’t divulge patient information. I’m bound by the HIPPA laws and the AMA,” he answered stiffly.
“Of course,” I muttered as if I’d known that. Well I did sort of, but who knows what information goes anywhere these days. I shrugged and asked, “We finished?” I hoped so. I needed to get home and think.
“You need to see a doctor. Get some vitamins. Tell the father.”
“Your bedside manner sucks. But thanks.” I headed for the door, he followed.
“Probably a touch of flu,” I told them all when I stepped into the waiting room. The child doctor walked out behind me and didn’t contradict my story.
“Sorry I ruined your shoes,” I told Marty on my way past him to the door.
“Don’t worry about it. They’ll clean up. Meanwhile, your girlfriend had a change in plans. I’m taking you home.” During my examination, he’d been busy. He’d had clothes and his vehicle delivered and now wore sweats and sneakers.
While I wondered what was up with Megan and the giant claiming to be her man, Marty guided me to the Hummer I’d almost ridden in once before.
Tell the father. After a quick peek at said sire, I slouched on the front seat of the Hummer and concentrated on my shoes.
“You going to be okay?” Marty’s voice was anxious.
You think you’re worried. Hah. His presence was both infuriating and reassuring. “I’m tired, my stomach is still upset, and I want to get home and rest.”
All my answer was true. He didn’t push me for more, and I didn’t offer. When he pulled into the narrow drive way, I didn’t invite him in. I hopped out and scurried into the house, locking the door behind me.
After the sound of the Hummer died away, I walked to the closet under the stairs and stepped inside. Door shut, I crouched amid the shoes and boxes on the floor, trying to get a grip on my new reality as I stared into the darkness.