Love M.D. (9 page)

“Excuse me, sir. I’m going to have
to ask you to leave.”

I am utterly shocked when Todd
swings his arm backward and lunges it forward at the man. The manager ducks out
of the way. Morgan catches Todd’s fist midair and brings his hand down. Todd’s eyes
widen in surprise.

Still holding Todd’s fist, Morgan
says, “Leave, before Mister…” he pauses and looks at the manager’s nametag.
“Stephens here calls the police and has assault charges brought against you.”

Todd pales and looks away. Not
saying another word, he leaves.

“Thank you, sir,” Mr. Stephens says
after Todd is out of view.

“We should have left when we had
the chance.”

“Is there anything I can get you?”
Mr. Stephens asks.

I’m a little anxious. I need to
relax, but I don’t think I can do it in a restaurant with all these eyes on me.
“Did you have any other plans? Would you mind if we took this to go?”

“If that’s what you want, I’m fine
with that,” he says, handing the manager his credit card. “Add a bottle of
Chablis as well.”

“I’ve never been so humiliated in
my life. When we were together, he was never like this.”

“It’s not your fault. Don’t worry
about it.”

The manager soon returns with a
large bag.

Morgan stands, outstretching his
hand. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

I place my hand in his, and after a
short exchange, we agree to head back to his place. I am more relaxed by the
time we get to the house. We set up dinner and eat outside by the pool.

“This is actually quite nice,” I
say, enjoying the ambiance.

“Too bad I didn’t plan it this way
myself, but it all worked out for the best.”

“It did. I never took the time to
notice the beauty of this place at night. Your party will be fabulous.”

“I hope so. So tell me, do you ever
miss Paris?”

“Not really. Maybe the food. Most
of my years there I was very unhappy. It was such a drastic change for me at
such a young age with a woman I barely knew and nothing familiar around me.”

“How old were you when it all
happened?”

“Five. Abby’s age.” My mind drifts
a bit as I think back to that time in my life. “I’m so happy that things were
ironed out with her parents. I would hate for her to go through what I went
through.”

“I’m thankful for that, too. Thank
you for thinking of her when you did that room. You have no clue what that
means to me.”

“For some reason, every time I see
that picture of her, something in her eyes reminds me of myself at that age.”

“I sense that there’s more to your
parents’ death. What happened?”

I pause. “Zach and I watched our
parents die.”

He gasps and gently slips his hand
over mine. “Zoë, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t remember much from my
childhood, but I remember everything about that day. We waited for our parents
after school. They were supposed to take us for ice cream. There was
construction going on across the street—a crane hauling some massive steel
beams. My parents pulled up in front of the school, and the chains that held
the beams broke. The beams flattened the car my parents were in.”

He tightens his grip on my hand.

“I don’t think at that age I knew
or understood what death was, but I knew it was something bad. I remember
screaming and crying and running to the car, but Zach held me and begged me not
to go. He kept yelling, ‘Zoë don’t go. Zoë, please don’t go.’ Two adults took
us back into the school, and that was the last time we saw our parents.”

Morgan leans forward, looking at me
intently.

“Maybe it was a week later or a few
days—who knows. I remember all of us going to church. Zach and I kept asking
these two women we’d only seen in pictures for our parents, and they kept
telling us they went to heaven and that it was a happy place. It was only some
time later I realized that when someone went to heaven they didn’t come back.”

“Then the next day after breakfast,
our aunts told us we’d be going on a big plane. For a while, we were excited.
Until they told us we had to say goodbye to each other. We didn’t want to let
each other go.” The feelings are as raw now as they were then, and as I speak,
I fight to keep the tears that build from leaking away. After a sip of wine, I
continue, “My aunts had to tear us apart. The last image I have of Zach as a
child was him riding away in a blue car, screaming my name. I was screaming
his. I kept telling my aunt I want my Zachy… I want my Zachy to come back.”

I feel like my heart all the way
down to my stomach has been ripped away. “Then I remember I made a friend at
school in Paris—Geneviève Dupree. We did everything together. One day I went to
a party at her house. It was supposed to be for her birthday. Little did I know
it was a farewell party, too.” A tear streams down my cheek, and I quickly wipe
it away. “She moved to Austria with her parents, and I never saw or spoke to
her again.”

“Do you remember anything happy?
From your time in France?”

I remain silent and shake my head,
trying to regain my composure. Another tear slips away, and Morgan laces his
fingers through mine.

I take a deep breath and clear away
my tears with both palms. “I remember liking croissants and baguettes more than
the bread we had at home. And my aunt would take me skating on the Eiffel Tower
once or twice during the winter. Oh, there was that summer I spent with
Geneviève and her family in a little village in France called—guess what?”

He cocks his head.

“Belvédère.”

“Really?” he chuckles.

“Yes. It has a couple accents but
it’s pronounced the same. I thought about it on my drive here the first time.”
I feel a little joy at the memory of Geneviève. “Anyway, I resented my aunt for
years, probably until her death. In my eyes, she was the one who took my
brother from me. I only fully understood why they both made the decision to
separate Zach and me years later, after she died. They were both teachers and
understood the importance of an education. There was really no money to take care
of us, but they did not want us to fall into an almost nonexistent foster care
system. The only way they could afford to care for us was if they each took one
of us in.”

“Is your other aunt still alive?”

“She died last year. She was the
one who told us my parents didn’t have a will. They weren’t rich. In fact, I
later found out they were in serious debt. The bank took our house to satisfy
the debt and the small life insurance policy they had went to our education.”

“I feel like I understand you so
much better now. Thank you for sharing that with me.”

I exhale. “Now that it’s out of the
way, we never have to talk about it again.”

“That’s completely understandable,”
he responds, smiling gently at me.

“Enough with all the heavy talk. Enjoying
your new job?”

“I’m still getting to know all the
players at the hospital. That’s why I was so eager to have this party. The
environment we work in is not always conducive to deep conversation, and
because I’m only there a couple days a week, there’s not much time to get to
know anyone. I have only one friend there—Deandre. He was the one who told me
about the opening. He’s the medical examiner there. He volunteered with me on
some of my trips before.”

“I hope it works out well. Do you
need help on Saturday?”

“Just be my date. That’s all the
help I need.”

I wonder if he’s
the one
.
Then I wonder if
the one
even exists. Part of me wants this so badly and
sometimes the thought scares me like hell. Perhaps I need to confront what
might bother me the most.

“If I ask you a personal question,
will you give me an honest response?”

“Sure, what’s on your mind?”

“How do you feel about Audrey?”

“I don’t think I will ever forget
what she did, but I’ve accepted it. I’ve learned from it, and I’ve moved past
it. I’m not in love with her anymore, if that’s what you’re worried about. But
I will always have to respect her as Abby’s mother—especially if I want to keep
seeing Abby. I’m now at the point in my life where I want to move on.”

“When did you know you were ready
to move on?”

He smiles, peering into my eyes. “The
night I met you. I knew I needed to move on before which is why I decided to
start over here. But the first time I felt like I was ready to move on and
wanted to move on was the night I met you.”

I can’t hold his gaze, and I
immediately tear my eyes away from his intense and penetrating stare.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he smiles.
“It’s supposed to be a compliment.”

“Thank you, I think. And you said
you learned from your mistakes. What do you mean by that?”

“It was only after my marriage
ended that I realized how neglected Audrey felt. Sometimes I’d be away for
weeks at a time, and I’d miss important days—birthdays, anniversaries. She
never complained, and she never made it a problem, so I wasn’t even aware that
there was one. She said she didn’t want to complain, because she knew what I
was doing was necessary and important. But at the same time, because how she
felt was never addressed, it forced her into my best friend’s arms. He was
there when I wasn’t. Things obviously weren’t meant to be, but in my next
relationship, I intend to make sure her needs are taken care of, too, and not
always choose my cause over my relationship. Even if it is important.”

“That’s a mature response. Sounds
like you’ve grown.”

“I try to be introspective. Would
you like some more wine? Or maybe some coffee and cake?”

“Sure, coffee and cake for me. Perhaps
it will lighten the mood; we’ve seemed to cover some topics that might qualify
as a little too heavy for a first date.”

“I suspected you had a sweet tooth,”
he says, rising to his feet. “And this may be our first official date, but we’ve
shared a lot in the last few weeks. You know things about me and my life that I
have not shared with many.”

“Would you like some help?” I ask.

“No. I got it. Enjoy the view.”

I giggle to myself, watching his
ass as he walks away.

A while later, I hear Morgan
approaching. He smiles at me. Stepping down onto the pool deck, he says, “I
have this amazing coffee a friend sent me from Madagascar that I’ve been
waiting for a special occasion to try.”

From where I sit, I see the coffee press.
The toasty aroma touches my nose. I don’t know how much cake he thinks I can
eat, but an assortment of cakes and desserts are stacked high on a plate.

“That’s a lot of stuff you have there.
You’re going to have to help me eat all that.”

“You know, generally I don’t—”

Suddenly, he trips, sending the
tray and all its contents up into the air and back to the slate deck. Glass
shatters. Morgan loses his balance, and with a little less than his put-together,
debonair exterior, he falls into the pool with a loud splash.

“Oh gosh, are you okay?” I quickly leap
to my feet and run to the pool while the annoying sound of a tray rimming the
deck comes to a crescendo and stops.

“Apart from being completely embarrassed
on our first date, I’m fine. I’m sure my ego will be okay.”

“And not hurt your machismo too
much?” I laugh as he swims toward the end of the pool. “So sorry. This first
date got off on the wrong foot, and by all indications, it’s going to end that
way.”

“I don’t think so at all,” he says,
smiling. Before I know it, he grabs my wrist and yanks me into the pool.

I scream just before the lukewarm water
surrounds me. “I can’t believe you just did that,” I say, trying unsuccessfully
to keep a straight face.

“Now we can be humiliated
together,” he laughs.

“You think that restaurant scene somehow
wasn’t enough? Just so you know, I’ll be sending you the bill for my dry-clean-only
dress and I’m sure my sandals are ruined,” I tease while taking the four
hundred dollar sandals off and throwing them on the deck.

He laughs and swims to me, “You’re
not too mad at me are you, baby?” he asks with that stupid boyish grin of his.
I hate to admit it, but I absolutely love the sexy way
baby
just rolls off
his lips.

“I suppose… maybe just a little.”

“Good, because I’d hate this little
incident to stop you from going out with me again.”

“Well, if you’re trying to make an
impression on a woman, I would advise you not to pursue this course of action
in the future.”

“Not any woman—you,” he says,
circling me in his arms.

I wrap my arms around his neck. “You’re
trying to sweep me off my feet?”

He chuckles, pushing away the
dripping wet tendrils of my hair. “I hate to break it to you, but I think I
just did.”

He leans forward, kissing me lightly
on my neck then cheek and finally my lips. Returning his deep kiss, I taste
him. A hint of citrus from the Chablis we enjoyed lingers behind.

He caresses my form, and raises my
dress to my hip, enabling me to wrap my legs around his hard, rugged body. I’ve
been so eager to be touched by him. And as our tongues are in this rapturous
dance, the feel of his hands skimming over my breasts, then my hips and down to
my ass leave me wanting more. I want him. I want him inside me.

It’s been too long, and now that I
feel his firm arousal between my legs, I know he wants this, too. Releasing the
buttons of his shirt, I slowly slip it over his shoulders, and it floats away
into the water. I want to touch him, to feel him in my palms even more so now
that I feel him fondling my bare ass.

“Do you want this as badly as I
do?” he whispers, his soft breaths gently teasing my neck.

“I need it more than you can imagine,”
I reply.

With that confirmation, I get the
guts to take it a step further. Passionately, he devours my lips, pressing his
body into mine against the pool’s walls. Through the fabric of his pants, I
massage his thick erection then release his belt, his buttons and his zipper.
Finally, I push his trousers out of the way.