Zenith Rising (9 page)

“Thank you? I was afraid you’d fire me.”

“Yet you did it anyway?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” she asked, tilting her head with
confusion.

“Because you don’t deserve having such lies
said about you. That pamphlet’s not helping anyone. You help women.
So I tried to first explain that to your preacher. When that didn’t
work, I convinced him to leave.”

A laugh escaped her lips and she shook her
head. “With the help of a brick wall, I assume. And your undeniable
height and irrepressible anger?”

“Yes, those can be very convincing.”

“What am I going to do about this? My
reputation?” Erica couldn’t even look at the sickening portrayal of
her again. Spencer came closer, and picked it up. Then he pulled a
lighter from his pocket, and lit it on fire, before throwing it
into the sink in her office.

Roy rushed over to the sink, quickly running
water over it. “What are you doing? You’ll set the sprinklers
off.”

Roy glared at Spencer and his eyebrows
furrowed in visible anger. At least, he wasn’t looking
through
Spencer anymore.

“Proving a point,” Spencer said, without
looking at Roy. He was still staring at Erica, who was trapped by
his deeply, powerful eye lock. She finally dropped her gaze and got
his point.
Fuck them. Burn it. Screw it
. She wasn’t a baby
killer. She got it. Roy didn’t. She looked up again, and felt
Spencer’s eyes burning into her: dark, smoldering, and very
serious. “Point taken, Doc?” he asked softly.

Erica nodded her head in a jerky yes as she
straightened her spine and stood up. She gathered strength from
Spencer’s cut-and-dried actions in her defense. If he felt that
sure of her, and what and who she was, then she could be that sure
of herself, her practice, and her morals. “Yes, point taken.”

Spencer turned to leave without another word.
His back was rigid and his smirk insolent as he glanced from her to
Roy. She cringed at what he must think of her choice of
boyfriend.

Erica was left alone with Roy, who was quiet
for a moment. Then he came closer to her. “Who is that?”

“Spencer? He works here, doing maintenance
for the building.”

“Yes, I know his job title. But who is he?
What is he to you? That was no handyman addressing you then. That
was a man telling a woman what he thought of her.”

Erica turned away to hide the warm rush that
was flooding her cheeks. As if Spencer even thought she had a
vagina! He detested her and everything she stood for. “I don’t know
what you mean.”

“Yes, I think you do. You’re the smartest
woman I ever met, so act like it.”

“Spencer is a friend of Joelle’s. I’ve known
him for a few years.”

“Oh.” Roy frowned, then asked, “Like a friend
of a friend?”

“Yes,” Erica said, but no. In no way, could
she call Spencer her friend.

“Seemed like he was a bit too interested in
this protest today.”

Perhaps Roy wasn’t showing
enough
interest in the nearly disastrous, career-altering protest. The
distressing, insulting, and harmful incident that refuted her good
will as a doctor, as well as a human being. Maybe her boyfriend
wasn’t upset enough on her behalf.

“Maybe your handyman has a crush on you.”

Erica laughed out loud. “Spencer having a
crush on me? No way. He hardly tolerates me as his boss. I’m like
the authority he loves to rebel against and hate.”

“He seemed to take that pamphlet rather
personally.”

“He was present when I had trouble with that
particular preacher before.”

Roy looked down at his feet, and glanced back
her with a smile pursing his lips. “I guess I’m being ridiculous,
aren’t I? The handyman, for Christ’s sake! Yeah, right.”

“Yeah, right,” Erica echoed. She was not
listening, but thinking of the pamphlet, feeling sick to her
stomach, and wondering how many people saw it. What did they think
of it? Of her? Of her as a doctor? More importantly, what exactly
did Spencer do to get the preacher off her front steps? Whatever it
was, she was eternally grateful that he took the risk and felt
enough loyalty towards her to take such a stand.

What might this preacher do next to discredit
her?

Why didn’t her boyfriend get upset over a
direct attack on her as a human being? As well as a doctor? Why did
her handyman go out there, but not Roy? Spencer easily took over
even though he hardly liked her.

“Let’s just go to dinner,” Erica finally said
quietly. Confused. Tired. Her gut churning in knots. And not
knowing how else to get rid of Roy.

“And after? Your place?”

Erica shrugged. How could Roy even suggest
after what happened that she would like him to come over to her
place? How could Roy not get that after being called a baby killer,
she might not feel like having sex? Good God. It seemed so obvious.
“Not tonight.”

When would she feel like it again? She hadn’t
felt like it in a long time. Not with Roy. Not with anyone, it
seemed. Maybe not for years.

****

The next few weeks were quiet and she
encountered no more problems from the preacher, although there were
a few comments from those who saw the pamphlet. She tried to go
about her work, her practice, and her life, as if it hadn’t shaken
her to the core. Which it had. She couldn’t understand why she was
targeted. So hatefully targeted. It wasn’t just a protest against
her, but an attempt to sully her entire reputation. That pamphlet
could have ruined her practice.

She still saw Roy, but less than before.
After his failure to do anything about the horrible pamphlet on her
behalf, she was pretty sure things weren’t going to improve for
them.

She was in the last few weeks of preparing
for a charity dinner and dance of which she was the chairperson.
The clinic was only one of several sponsors who donated both time
and money to the dinner, and its purpose to raise research money
for breast cancer.

The theme this year was “Winter in Summer”
and each plate cost one thousand dollars. It attracted all the Nick
Lassiters of the area, and was something she firmly believed in
because it was part of her life and her practice. She dealt with
breast cancer regularly with patients. She handled the screening,
first diagnosis, and treatment of it, as well as death from it. She
removed women’s breasts, and even replaced them. She was at the
forefront of the breast cancer battle and this particular event was
far more than an evening out to her. It was her cause. It was a
symbol of what she dedicated her time, as well as her life, to
preventing.

It was also a nice change from her days at
the office. It was more fun than most of her work, and she was
excited to see how it all came together.

Then she got the news that the band they
booked ditched her. They said they were double-booked, and chose
the larger venue, leaving her in the lurch. She didn’t have enough
time to find another band so soon before the event. Joelle, who
helped Erica create the tables’ centerpieces, overheard Erica on
the phone.

“What am I going to do?” Erica said as she
sat down dejectedly.

“You’re going to call Spencer. He and Rob can
do this. They can play anything.”

“Your ex-husband, Rob?”

“Sure. He’s the best.”

“What about Nick?”

“What about Nick? Nick can deal with Rob.
Besides, Spencer could use the boost. He hasn’t played seriously in
much too long. I think it would help him.”

“Why doesn’t he just play for fun?”

Joelle’s eyebrows quirked enigmatically.
“Does anything about Spencer strike you as fun? Anyway, just call
them.”

She did, but no one answered. She began to
pace. At least, it was an idea and the only one she had. She didn’t
know what else to do. Dancing to a live band was advertised on all
the event’s pamphlets and flyers. She couldn’t manufacture a band
from thin air, or tell all the paying dinner guests the dance
portion of the evening was cancelled.

“Maybe I’ll just go there.”

Joelle looked up from the fake flowers she
was arranging. “I’d go with you, but I promised the baby sitter I’d
get back right about now.”

“It’s fine. I can handle it.”

“You should. They really are unbelievable,
despite
Zenith
breaking up.”

“Thanks for the idea.”

Erica wondered if it really was such a hot
idea, now that she was standing on the street before Spencer’s
house. It was nearly nine o’clock already. God, this couldn’t go
over well, but she was so desperate to get a band, she felt like
she couldn’t relax until she found one. She called their phone
number again, as well as the cell phone numbers Joelle gave her,
but nothing. She could leave a note on the door, or a message on
their voicemails. Spencer would, no doubt, talk to her
tomorrow.

Erica got out of her car and walked to the
front door before knocking. She was surprised when she heard
movement from inside. The entire house was dark.
What the
hell?
There was definitely movement and soft murmuring.
Finally, after what seemed like several minutes, the door
opened.

Spencer answered, dressed only in jeans that
were zipped, with the top button undone. He was barefoot and
shirtless, so his long torso was exposed: rippled abs, wide
shoulders, and lean, but muscular arms. He was gorgeous,
stunningly, eye-widening gorgeous. She was speechless and stared
open-mouthed, in awe, at his chest. Finally shaking herself back to
the present, she managed to raise her eyes to his.

As she did, her face grew warm and it
suddenly occurred to her, albeit belatedly, why the house was so
dark, the phones weren’t being answered, Spencer was half-naked,
and taking forever to answer the door with his jeans partially
undone. He wasn’t alone.

She attempted to speak, but couldn’t form a
coherent thought.

Spencer, meanwhile, looked her over, and his
eyebrows rose. “What are you doing here?”

“I called. Earlier. I needed to talk to you…
but it can wait. Until later. Tomorrow. Goodbye.” She turned away,
fully intending to leave.

Then she heard the giggle, a giggle she
recognized. She froze and turned back around. There, behind
Spencer, was Tamira, her bookkeeper, wearing, God, worse than
nothing. She was dressed in fake leather lingerie. She had on a
pleather corset, a black thong, fishnet black stockings, and
spiked, thigh-high boots. She stopped abruptly the moment she saw
Erica’s horrified stare through the front door. The flirtatious
smile died on her lips and she gaped at Erica as Erica did her.

“Dr. Heathersby? What are you doing here?”
Tamira asked, glancing down at herself, then back up at Erica. She
turned and fled just as she seemed to remember what she was
wearing.

Spencer, meanwhile, glanced over his
shoulder, and looked back at Erica, his face blank. Cold. Erica
shut her mouth. No apology or awkwardness on Spencer’s end of the
conversation.

She turned to leave, and stepped down onto
the porch, but stopped dead when a hand gripped her wrist. Turning
back again, Spencer was out of the house, and holding her back. He
let go as soon as her eyes met his.

“Why are you here, Doc? Certainly not to
check up on me.” Arms crossed over his chest, he looked down at her
expectantly. His abs flexed and her mouth went dry. Damn her
stupid, wandering eyes.

“I need your help.”

“Mine?” His eyes widened. “With what?”

“I was hoping you could play for me.”

“Excuse me?” His expression went from cold
and annoyed to genuine astonishment. She surprised
him,
for
once. Well, maybe not as much as her glimpsing his sexual escapades
with her bookkeeper, but surprised nevertheless.

“The piano. I know it’s a lot to ask, and
Zenith
, isn’t together anymore. But I’m on the committee of
this huge fundraiser for cancer research, and the band I booked
just backed out about an hour ago. The event is two weeks from
Saturday. I don’t know of any other band I could book on such short
notice. Joelle said I should ask you, and Rob.”

Silence followed her announcement and she
shifted her feet. Why couldn’t he react to anything? Why didn’t he
even blush at her finding Tamira there? And dressed as she was? Or…
well, why didn’t he seem to care at all what she thought?

“You could have called me.”

“I did. But no one answered.”

He frowned and considered her statement, then
slowly smiled, as if remembering
why
he didn’t answer the
phone. “No. I guess I didn’t.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“You could have left a message. I’d have
called you back.”

Erica nodded. She wished she’d been smart,
and practical as usual, rather than driving to this man’s house,
and interrupting
that.
“I think we can agree that I should
have. I was… just so anxious to get another band. This fundraiser
is very important. It brings in a lot of money. I can’t screw it
up.”

“I don’t see how we can play for you. We
haven’t been together in over a year. Rob’s not going to agree to
do it.”

“But you would?”

“That depends… What kind of crowd? What kind
of music?”

She bit her lip. “I guess a crowd of people
like me. What does that tell you?”

He smirked at her. “A lot. It tells me they
won’t like what I play.”

“Can’t you play anything? Joelle said you
could! Why couldn’t you do that for one night? It’s not like a
career. It’s one night for charity. I don’t care what you play, if
it’s appropriate.”

He regarded her, and frowned. “You honestly
expect me to come up with something ‘appropriate’?”

“Yes,” she said with complete honesty. For
some reason, she knew in her gut if Spencer agreed to help her, he
would not betray her trust. She didn’t know why she knew that, but
she did. Spencer might be a lot of things, but when he gave his
word, he kept it. She swallowed and said quietly, “I trust you on
that, Spencer.”