The rest of the day was quite busy. I went to the pharmacy to pick up Timmy’s new medication. Then finally started the online classes that I’d picked.
Dean came back later that evening just as I was exiting the library with the new book I’d decided to read.
He looked tired and disheveled for the first time since I'd met him. He was carrying his suit jacket on his arm. His tie was undone, his shirt opened at the collar, revealing a little bit of his toned chest covered in a light dusting of dark hair.
“You look tired,” I blurted out, only to immediately wince. I expected him to lash out at me, to unleash all the weariness and frustration I could see on his face. Why had I taken this liberty?
“It has been a long day,” he replied gruffly. “Jeremy told me about Timothy’s result. I’m sorry.”
I remained silent, pulling the book closer to my chest. Was he actually trying to be nice to me? Why?
“But you should at least take comfort in the fact that you have one of the best, if not the best pediatric surgeons taking care of him.”
I nodded, relaxing a bit. My death grip on the book I was holding loosened slightly. “Yes. I’m grateful for this and for your concern.”
“Don’t read too much behind my concern, Miss Collins. Don’t mistake it for any type of kinship. I can just recognize the worry of a mother for her child.”
I took a tentative step toward him. “So you know how much I love him? Isn’t that enough for you to grant us, me, the freedom to be with my child?”
He sighed, burying his hands in his pockets. “Love is not a magical cure nor a fix-all. Love is barely a band-aid, a poor excuse for errors and bad decisions.” He shook his head. “Love is not an advantage. What a child needs is a level head that can make the right decisions based on facts and empirical concepts rather than anything as erratic and unpredictable as love.”
I opened my mouth, but then closed it again. This man was more complex than I’d thought. I didn't need to be a psychologist to know he was projecting his own past. Either he’d gotten hurt in the name of love or he’d hurt someone because of it, and I wanted to find out which.
“Dr. Hunt asked me out.” I opened my eyes wide. Why in God’s name did I go and say that?
His face darkened and his jaw ticked. “I know,” he said. “I’m impressed by your honesty though.”
“Yes, but-”
“Shall I remind you of the terms of your contract?”
That had the effect of a bucket of water on me. “No, there’s no need.” I sighed. “Also, I believe the contract says clearly that I can’t have sex for money, not that I can’t go on a date or have sex for any recreational reason.” I stood straighter, jutting my chin in defiance. “You know, like a blowjob given freely in a library.”
He looked at me for a few seconds, his nostrils flaring, his emerald eyes even greener than usual and I knew he was about to unleash the full force of his destructive hate on me.
“Goodnight, Mr. Beaumont,” I added quickly. I walked past him as fast as I could without looking like I was running away.
Was I going to pay for this? Maybe. Has it been worth it? Absolutely.
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. I'd never used to work this late. I was only just realizing how much I’d actually relied on Phil to do.
I didn’t give my trust easily. Despite Henry, my new lawyer, being amazing at his job, being just as cunning and as smart as I wanted, I didn’t trust him yet. He hadn’t earned it, and that was causing me quite an excess of work for the time being.
It made me miss Phil and also dislike Opal for having pushed me to make that choice. I know it was a choice I would have had to make eventually. I’d buried my head in the sand, pretending not to notice how deviant Phil was because he'd always been so careful to not touch anyone at work, but this - What he'd said and wanted to do to Opal…
I ran my hands over my face. Just the thought of it lit a homicidal rage inside of me.
I looked at my empty glass of Bourbon, contemplating another one. I’d already drunk more than my share tonight, especially considering I was looking at important documents, but my mind seemed to have been hijacked by the woman sharing my living space.
As if on cue, my phone vibrated yet again, Helle’s name flashing on the screen.
I'd thought I'd miss my regular squeeze at least a little while I was cooped up in my estate with the woman I was supposed to hate, but no, I didn’t miss her, not even a little.
I rolled my neck with irritation. I really needed to get rid of Helle. Phil had left before he could arrange her departure, so I'd just left her to stew. I'd sent her some expensive jewelry to make up for my absence, but that didn't seem to be working anymore.
She had to go now even if she was kicking and screaming. I’d been more than patient with her. It didn't matter that she could do the splits as well as 80% of the Kamasutra; she wasn’t worth it.
I made myself a note for tomorrow. I needed to call Carl, the concierge, and have him kick her to the curb. That would be the best way for her to understand that there wouldn't be any tomorrow for us. We were done.
“It’s late.'' My head jerked up at the sound of Opal’s voice. She was standing under the threshold of my office door. Was I having one of my erotic daydreams again? I had to admit they were happening a lot more than I was comfortable with and she was, infuriatingly, always the main protagonist.
But no, I wasn't daydreaming. She was dressed in a pair of oversized grey sweatpants and an ugly sweatshirt, which I suspected was stained with the child’s vomit. Not really how she was dressed in my dreams. She was more like the cute Catholic schoolgirl then.
“Yes, indeed.” I looked at the clock on my desk; it was past 9:00 p.m. I needed some food in me to help soak up the five glasses of honey bourbon I'd had. “Have Mrs. James bring me something to eat.”
“Mrs. James left at 2:00 p.m. Her grandson's play is today, remember?”
“Ah, yes, right.” Nope, I didn't have a clue. “Well, I'll just have to find something myself then.”
She fidgeted under the threshold as if she wanted to add something. It was annoyingly cute.
“Yes?”
“I - ummm - You need to eat something decent. I’m going to my room now, but I cooked enough for two and I left it in the oven on low for you, so it should stay warm for a little while."
I'd never expected her to do anything remotely nice for me. I'd never given her a reason to and yet...here she was. Sighing, I leaned back in my seat. “Is it poisoned?”
She shrugged with a small smile. “I’m no chef, so if it is, it was unintentional.”
Her smile pleased me, the banter too. Ah, I was probably drunker than I'd thought.
My phone started to vibrate again. For the first time in forever, I actually turned it off and left it on my desk. I deserved a break. I’d been working more than my share for the past few days.
I stood up. “Keep me company?” I asked, surprising the both of us. Yes, I'd definitely drank too much.
“You want me to keep you company?” She pointed at her chest.
I couldn’t blame her for the confusion; I was confusing myself.