Chapter 22

Dawn

Rory dropped me off at Tantric—no, Hard Cover—on his way to New York City. He had to go back and take care of a few things. He was only going to be gone overnight, but it would be the first time in three weeks we hadn't slept together. I was going to miss him. I made sure he took our video with him and I promised when he got back we'd make another one on his yacht.

Before he left, I unbuttoned my shirt to show him I was wearing the nipple clamps to give him something to think about. I needed the distraction too. I had just bought two more of Destiny's oil paintings, and if they sold, I was going to use the money to get an apartment. Millie had the day off, so I was the only one in the store today. I had almost forgotten what that was like. In between checking that I would have another shipment of cosmetics before the Fourth gala, I clicked through the available apartments online. I was looking for furnished and in nice condition, local but far enough away I wasn't going to be paying waterfront rates. It was nice to be able to get back to normal. I couldn’t wait to christen my new apartment with Rory.

There was one thing that was bothering me, and while it was none of my damned business, I picked up the phone and called anyway.

"Hello, I'd like to speak with Attorney Simmonds please."

"Who may I say is calling?" the secretary asked.

"Dawn Nolan."

"One moment."

After a few moments of listening to some oldies station while I was on hold, the phone clicked through. "This is Attorney Simmonds."

"Hi, I'm not sure if you remember me, but we met at Senator Crenshaw's dinner at The Ritz-Carlton last month. I was with Rory Parker."

"Of course I remember you. What can I do for you Dawn?"

"You need to go see Cammy," I blurted out.

There was a long pause. "Did you mean to call Kendrick?"

"This isn't Kendrick?"

He barked out a laugh. "No, it's Dom."

Mortification flooded me again. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. I get his calls all the time. He doesn't do private practice. He's with Weismann and Rivers. I can give you his number, but he never answers his phone."

"That's probably better. I'll practice what I'm going to say and leave him a voicemail."

"Why don't you practice with me?"

I coughed self-consciously. "Well, it's personal."

"I assure you, my brother has told me everything about his marriage."

"All right, here goes." I took a deep breath. "You're her husband. She needs to see you. She's getting more aware every day. She's speaking more. But she doesn't get a lot of visitors. I think you should go, and bring Spence. Don't expect miracles, but maybe she'll play a game of cards with you or color with her son."

"The Parkers don't want Kendrick there."

"Aside from Rory, the Parkers don't visit that often. Please, even if he leaves Spence with a sitter, I think it would do her a world of good to see Kendrick."

"They weren't in love."

My heart sank. "Did they at least like each other?"

"Yeah, they were best friends. But they were only married a year before the tragedy struck, and it's been five years now. Things change."

"It doesn't seem fair," I whispered.

"It was her idea to take that shit."

"Was it?" I challenged. "She was in pain and she self-medicated. If she had been under a doctor's care, perhaps it could have been avoided. In any event, I think everyone involved has suffered enough. Stop blaming her."

Dom sighed. "My nephew is growing up without his mother. I have a hard time forgiving her that."

"You know what, Dom? Bugger off." And I hung up on him.

I called the number he gave me for Kendrick, and basically told his answering machine the same thing I told Dom. It was out of my hands now.

Later that night, I was lying on my futon missing Rory and his fifteen-hundred-thread count sheets. The cat was curled up on my chest and I pet her because I liked hearing her purr. I hoped Rory wouldn't be mad at me for butting in with Kendrick. It just didn’t seem fair to keep any of her friends and family away. I stroked the diamond necklace Rory had given me. I hadn't taken it off since he put in on my neck in New York. I was terrified of losing it. The nipple clamps, however, I took out after the first hour. It just wasn't any fun without Rory. I called him, but there was no answer. He hadn't called me back, so I sent him a picture of me masturbating with a studded dildo.

Even that didn't get a reaction.

I fell asleep and dreamed that Rory took me to London, but the streets were too foggy and we got lost. It was hot and getting hard to breathe, and there were sirens going up and down the street. I started coughing and realized that I wasn't dreaming. I rolled off the futon and the door to the back room was hot to the touch. I cracked it open and cried out in shock. The store was on fire.

"Help!" I yelled. Then slammed the door. I was trapped. There was no way I was getting out through the flames. Fumbling for my phone, I called 911.

I told the dispatcher my name, address, and that I was trapped in the back room. The smoke was coming in under the door now and I started to panic. Taking in deep gulps of air, I grabbed a duffel bag, and after much protest, got the cat inside. I zipped it up. She was getting out of here with me. Except it was getting harder to breathe. I remembered to stay low, but the heat from the door was unbearable. I cowered back in the bathroom, wishing there was a window to crawl out of. I filled a bucket with water and splashed it on the door.

There was a great roar and sounds of shouting voices. "I'm here!" I shouted, but my voice cracked. Coughs racked my body. "Help!"

I heard sounds of the hose and firemen. The door splintered open and I bent over and dry heaved in relief. One of the fireman yelled, "I got her." He had to help me walk, because I was frozen in fear. I saw flames in my store as we sloshed out the back.

"No," I said, twisting. The paintings! Then my knees buckled and he half carried me out the door. I didn’t even care that I was in my nightgown and flashing my fancy panties to all the bystanders watching the fire. It looked like the whole world was covered in soot and orange flames. I coughed again uncontrollably.

Rory was in the crowd. How? He was supposed to be in New York City. He was being held back by a cop. Two paramedics rushed out to get me from the firefighter who went back inside.

"Cat," I said, hacking out the word. I handed the bag to the paramedic. They laid me down on a gurney and lifted me into the ambulance. I saw him open the bag and the cat's head popped out. She was all right. Then they put an oxygen mask on my face and the world went black.