8. Lex
8
Isat in my desk chair staring out the window looking at the bay, but my mind wasn’t on the water. Just one glimpse of the tiny whitecaps frothing on the choppy waters reminded me of Friday evening on my yacht with Charlie, and what a good time we had. And it wasn’t just the sex either, although that was incredible and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. My mind was on what transpired after that; when we left that bedroom and Charlie joined me on the deck acting like nothing even happened.
I saw the looks my guests gave us, and while a few of them pulled me to the side and whispered “at a boy,” a few of them were bolder with their jokes and insinuations. Charlie smiled through it all, allowing the comments to roll off her like water off a duck’s back, and that turned me on even more than that dress she’d been wearing.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Every spare second of my day, any time there was a lull between patients, or I found myself with a few moments to think, she was on my mind. She ticked off every single thing I’d ever looked for in a woman. I saw myself having a long-term relationship with her, which sort of scared me. Because every woman I’d been with—even the ones who didn’t tick all my boxes—walked away before I had a chance.
Maybe I was crazy because Charlie was just in this for a story and not for me, but I felt like there was a bit of magic between us. A magic I’d like to explore and investigate a bit further. I fingered my phone through the thin fabric of my slacks and wondered what she was up to. We didn’t have anything on the calendar for her to return for another interview, but she didn’t have to come solely for that purpose.
It intimidated me that I was already so smitten with her. I’d never fallen so hard so quickly either, and with my reputation for losing women, it meant I was at a high risk of having my heart broken again. Which only made me want to nail it so hard this time—do things I hadn’t done before, try new things, be more open. Anything it required to help Charlie see that I was worth taking a shot on.
And sure she was young, super young, in fact. I assumed maybe she was as young as twenty-one years old, but age was just a number after twenty-one. Right?
I made the decision to take a chance and text her, find out what she had going on this evening, see if she’d fly to Miami to meet me. If she didn’t have the money or couldn’t swing it with her boss, I’d buy her flight. It was what I wanted.
Lex 10:37 AM: Hey beautiful. How are you doing today?
After hitting send I laid my phone down and turned to my computer. I wanted to peruse the flights from Tampa to Miami for this evening and see if there were any spots available. Even if she responded as late as three, I could still swing a trip for her here tonight and back first thing in the morning. But to my surprise, before I even got my search typed into the website, she responded.
Charlie 10:39 AM: I’m well. And thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.
Three heart emojis followed the sentence and made me smile. So she was one of those types who used smiley faces and hearts as punctuation. How unprofessional for a journalist. I loved it.
Lex 10:40 AM: I really enjoyed our time on the yacht.
My thumbs hovered over the tiny keyboard for a few seconds as my mind tried to come up with something else to say but I drew a blank. I hit send and waited for a response. Three dots rolled across the screen like she was typing but then they vanished. I waited a second longer and all she sent was a smiley face emoji. Good, I made her blush.
I could almost picture those rosy cheeks and her eyelashes batting. I didn’t like making her uncomfortable in any way, but the way she squirmed when she was feeling flustered was cute.
Lex 10:43 AM: Thank you for an enjoyable evening. I’d like to see you again.
This time I never put my phone down. I held it eagerly in my hand knowing I had only two minutes until the nurse brought my next patient in and I wanted to continue the conversation.
Charlie 10:43 AM: I’d love that. When are you thinking? Something on the books or…
Her ellipses intrigued me. She was something else. She really did like me and this wasn’t just about the article, even if it was sex and nothing more. Hopefully more, but for now I had to be patient and take one step at a time.
Lex 10:44 AM: Tonight. 7. My place. If you can’t swing the ticket through work, let me know. I’ll set you up.
There was a knock at my door so I called, “Come in.” But my attention was fully focused on my phone screen. I wanted to see her response and she didn’t disappoint.
Charlie 10:44 AM: It’ll be hard to convince my boss this late in the game. You set me up this time. But next time you fly to me.
I grinned and responded.
Lex 10:45 AM: Deal.
Then I looked up to see my next patient walk in. I couldn’t wait to get this day over with, and as soon as this appointment was done, I’d be back on my computer ordering that airline ticket for Charlie to fly in to see me.
Eight hours later I was pacing, waiting for her to arrive at my front door, with a large pepperoni pizza, a bottle of wine with two glasses, and an appetite for her. She was a breath of fresh air the minute Victor escorted her from the door to my arms. I offered a casual hug and a kiss on each cheek, and she allowed me to take her hand as I nodded at the modest meal I planned. I didn’t want anything fancy. I intended to make her the main course.
“Wow…billionaires eat pizza?” She chuckled and followed me to the couch where we sat down.
“Only if they’re hosting gorgeous reporters who deserve to be treated to a normal experience. Otherwise it’s escargot all the way.” God, I wanted to devour her so badly. I just had to keep my hands to myself for a while longer. Besides, I also wanted to enjoy the time with her, get to know her better too.
“Wow, I’m so exhausted. Today was a long day and I’m so hungry.” She wasn’t shy about pulling a slice of pizza out of the box and having a large bite. I joined her, savoring the scent of her perfume more than the flavor of the greasy pizza.
“Well you’re here now. I hope you understand I haven’t booked you a hotel room.” I watched her eyes for a reaction, but she seemed as calm as a cucumber, minus the ruby lips that flushed with desire at my comment.
“I hope you understand I have to slip a few questions in about the story. Sort of obligatory at this point.” Charlie winked at me as she took another bite, and I had no problem opening up to her about things.
We chatted while we ate, sipping wine and indulging ourselves a little until the bottle was empty and I had to call on Victor for a second. She asked about my practice and my dreams. She asked why I’d truly gotten into this field and how I liked it. But when the mood shifted, I sensed her demeanor shift too.
“What about the image that’s been leaked to the tabloids recently. You getting into the car with Jonahlie Prince… They say she’s just a notch in your belt.” Charlie avoided eye contact with me as she asked, and I didn’t blame her. Wherever she’d seen that photo it was of no good intent. Paparazzi were probably following the actress and caught me in the picture with her.
The hint of mistrust and apprehension in her eyes before she looked away, however, bothered me. It also intrigued me. It was as if she felt jealous or uncertain about me because of the photo. So I squashed those thoughts as quickly as I could.
“Ms. Prince is a patient of mine. You understand she prides herself on having natural beauty. If it got out that she was seeing a plastic surgeon for any reason, the press would have a hay day.” I touched Charlie’s knee lightly and she looked up at me.
“So you’re not sleeping with her?”
I tried not to take the direct question as an affront and calmed myself. “No. I am not sleeping with her at all. She and I meet outside the office for her consultations and she comes here to my home office when she needs work.”
It irritated me that she had to ask, but it was better for me to be calm and explain rationally instead of being defensive and snapping at her for believing the tabloids. Charlie hardly knew me. I couldn’t fault her for naively believing the narrative someone else force-fed her.
“Good…” Her simple response was followed by a huge gulp of wine and before she changed her mind, I chose to move things in the direction I’d been waiting for.
“Should we take the bottle of wine and retire?” I asked, picking up the bottle as I stood.
A smirk flashed across her face and she rose with me, leaving her purse on the sofa. I took her hand and led her up the staircase and down the hall to my bedroom. Her eyes drank everything in as we walked. Every door we passed, every picture hung on the wall. My home seemed to her a museum of all things “Dr. Hartman” and she was a fanatic, eagerly devouring every morsel.
In the bedroom, I set the wine on the nightstand and realized I’d forgotten my glass. She carried hers in hand, so I led her to the bed and kissed her forehead. “Stay right there. I have to get my glass.”
“Mmm…don’t take too long.”
Her mewl of desire made my body flush with warmth. I hurried back downstairs to retrieve my glass, but when I came back, she was sitting cross-legged in her bra and panties on the bed, holding the framed photo from my nightstand in her hands. She looked up at me with curiosity as I approached her.
“Who’s this?”
My chest constricted as I walked toward her, knowing where this conversation was going. I kicked off my shoes, set my glass on the nightstand next to hers, then stripped off my tie and my shirt.
For a brief moment her eyes lingered on my body. It was a bit of an ego boost to see her flush with arousal, but I knew the mood would be broken for me if I answered the question. Still, I didn’t want her to think the only thing I was interested in was sex. My God was I interested in sex, but if I was ever going to break my streak of bad luck, I had to do things differently.
“That is a portrait of my parents.” I crawled onto the bed and lay down, curling my body around hers as she sat there. My legs pushed up along her thigh and my arm wrapped around her waist, resting on her middle.
“They look so happy.” She smiled and looked down at me, but I couldn’t really look at the image. It remained on my nightstand where I could see it and remind myself every time I looked at it what sort of person I wanted to be—the polar opposite of them.
“I think they were very good at wearing masks.” My sour comment made her grimace.
“That bad?” She set the picture back on the nightstand where it belonged and turned to face me.
My hand lingered on her thigh inches from her panties, but now any thought of intimacy with her was gone. She was going to ask about my childhood, and I was going to talk about it whether or not I wanted to.
“Off the record?”
Charlie held her hand up and said, “I swear.”
It took me a few seconds to muster the courage to speak without letting my temper get the better of me. I hated speaking of my childhood, and when I did I always felt so bitter and unpleasant. But I continued to remind myself that if I wanted this, I had to be open.
“Well, I was raised in money. My parents shipped me off to boarding schools and private institutions. I had nannies and butlers but no affection. I never learned how to form attachments or relationships, and I’m really messed up because of it. I’m not single because I choose to be. I’m single because I have issues and they all stem from a really messed-up childhood.”
Charlie didn’t respond the way I thought she would. This didn’t seem like the sort of topic that was appropriate for so early in a relationship, if that’s where we were headed. I thought she’d be uncomfortable, excuse herself even, or maybe she’d shy away from me for being creepy. But her hand cupped my cheek and she cooed.
“Oh, Lex… I’m so sorry. That had to have been horrible.”
And for the first time, instead of feeling angry and hostile about my upbringing, I felt comforted. It was such a shocking emotion to me that I couldn’t even put words to what I was feeling. I stared at her in disbelief as she just kept talking.
“I’m so sorry I brought that up. I didn’t know it was such a painful memory. We don’t have to talk about that. Here, let me get you a drink.” Charlie poured a glass full of wine, and for the next hour, we discussed how different our upbringings were.
I was neglected and distracted by material goods. She was nurtured in a barely livable home with two loving parents who gave her the best they could even though it was all hand-me-downs. I was given the best education on a silver platter, and she had to fight to get where she was, working hard to earn scholarships since her parents couldn’t afford a thing. It made me wish I’d grown up with her family too.
After the second bottle of wine was gone and my heart was trashed from talking about my parents, all I wanted to do was hold her. So I folded the blankets back and kissed her deeply, then asked her if it was okay if we just lay together.
She fell asleep in minutes, and I lay awake for hours, wondering how a talk like that could make me feel more complete and whole than a lifetime of sexual encounters.
Charlie Martinez had messed with my heart in such a good way, and I’d be damned if I let her slip through my fingers. This was a woman I wanted in my life, for the rest of my life, and I was determined to keep her here.