Lust (16 page)

Samantha wanted to hang with Marcus; I just pretended or alluded
to a hot little threesome. Stop looking at me like that.

He deserved it after that stalkerish note he sent over. He—”

Chrissy jumped up. “Oh my God.”

The nurse and I both stared at her. The nurse leaned in to
check her arm, looked at me, and then shrugged, confirming
that the “Oh my god” had been directed toward me.

Chrissy started up again, not even noticing the panic she
had just caused the two of us. “The note. The friggin’ note. I
can’t believe I forgot. What was on the damn note? You looked
heated when you got back from the bathroom, and I was so not
feeling the conversation, so I figured I would get the dish today
and then I forgot. So, wait. Did you say ‘stalker,’ like…really?”

Chrissy took a breath, eyes opened wide, and she rolled her free
hand in a circular motion telling me to “come on and tell the
story.”

“It’s so weird. OK so maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but
here, look.” I reached into my front pocket and pulled out a
small piece of paper. It was Alexander’s note. I handed it to
Chrissy to read and slumped back in my chair. I didn’t know
what to make of all of it, or if I should be reading into any of
it at all.

“OK, so, one comment and two questions.” Chrissy was
ready to be the judge and jury.

I held my hand up to Chrissy to stall her. “Questions first,
so I can answer in my own defense. Your comment last, because
you will probably be right and I won’t be able to argue past it.”

Nodding her head, Chrissy agreed. “OK, so, question one.

What’s with the comment about you finding your voice? Did
you have laryngitis when you first met him? It’s not stalkerlike,
but it is confusing as shit.” Chrissy’s face looked as confused
as ever.

“No, I wasn’t sick. I told you, or I started to kind of tell
you, the first few times I met him, I wasn’t me. I couldn’t put
words together, never mind sentences. My thoughts were consumed
by his Burberry cologne and Saturday night’s debacle.

Then to boot, the last time we were alone together in my office
was yesterday. Not only did I almost fall into him but, I had
a spontaneous orgasm just from standing near him, smelling
him, taking in his voice—”

Chrissy grabbed my arm and pulled me close to whisper,
“Easy, killer. If you orgasm here and now, I’m gonna be pissed,
’cause I haven’t had an orgasm in at least a year. So don’t go there.”

We laughed in fun. “You ass. I won’t, I promise. That is, unless
I smell Burberry. Kidding, kidding. Anyway, I actually had
to run out of my office because I thought I had gotten my period,
and what a surprise I found. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I could
fuck him in so many ways I’d probably break him. But I honestly
don’t know what came over me. So he hadn’t actually met
the real—sarcastic, bitch—director me until last night. At which
point I’m sure he either decided to fire me or have me committed.

We’ll know tomorrow.”

“Ugh, OK. I’m going to stick to the questions and leave
the comments for later as I said I would. OK, so weird question
number two, who the hell is Evangeline? Did he just make up
a name for you like…Guinevere?”

Chrissy looked puzzled and interested, waiting for me to
explain. I twiddled my thumbs nervously, my eyes moving from
one end of the room to the other, trying to avoid eye contact. I
didn’t want to give away all my life’s secrets, but I also wasn’t
willing to tell a lie to my friend, who most likely wouldn’t be
in my life much longer.

“Evangeline is my legal name; my mom loves a poem
called, Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie. That’s where she got the
name from, and since I got out of school, no one has known me
by that name, except of course my parents, who refuse to call
me anything else.”

I knew the questions were going to arise. Instead of being
bombarded, I could easily tell by the look in Chrissy’s eyes that
she wanted details.

“I list my name and introduce myself as Eva because it fits
me better, I guess. I don’t know, It’s silly, but I just, well…my
life just doesn’t fit ‘Evangeline.’

“Eva, you look uncomfortable talking about this, and I’m
not sure why. But it is a beautiful name! Is there more to this
story? I don’t want to push you, but you just look saddened.”

Chrissy’s expression was as sad as I felt.

“I guess, yes. So, long story short, the poem about Evangeline
is about a girl who searches for her lost love. She spends a lifetime
looking for him, and in the end when she finally finds him,
he dies in her arms. That is neither a life nor a fate that I want
to be associated with. When I learned the story behind my naming,
it didn’t feel like a story but more like a death sentence.

Like I too was fated to have this outcome or ending in my story.

So, I guess I work every day to prove the story wrong. Like I
said, it’s silly but—”

Chrissy stopped me in my story. When I looked up, Chrissy
had tears running down her pale cheeks.

“Do you realize…” Taking a deep breathe, Chrissy tried to
gather her thoughts and hold her emotions. “You are so blind,
Eva. In the process of ‘trying to prove it wrong,’ you’ve been
purposely missing out on any chance of the greatest thing you
could ever feel—love!” Continuing to hold my hand in her own,
the tears flowing down her face, Chrissy spoke so passionately,
desperately trying to make me understand. “You are throwing
away all of life’s miracles for fear of what could happen. Don’t
you see how precious love is? A woman spends her life selflessly
searching for a man she loves. That’s not a death sentence, sweetie.

I would give anything to have had that feeling, to have hurt
and want so badly to be united with a man I love and who loves
me in return. I haven’t been lucky enough to find that man, nor
will I have the time to. And yet, you are here telling me you
throw the opportunity away every day of your life because you
are afraid you could get hurt in the end? The end shouldn’t be
your focus. It’s every moment in every day leading up to the end
that you should be completely engulfed in, and every second
should be filled with love and passion and desire. Do you know
when I realized my regrets? It was the day I was diagnosed. I
didn’t know whether I was going to live or die, but I suddenly
had a mental list of all my regrets. I somehow knew that I would
never get to make them right.”

My tears now matched Chrissy’s. We spoke little after that.

After all, what could be said? Chrissy was right, and I could neither
argue it nor admit it.

We spent the rest of the afternoon going through the motions,
filling the time with books and small talk. Chrissy began
feeling the effects of the chemo. Being so emotional earlier
made us both more exhausted. My thoughts and Chrissy’s
words filled my entire body. I ached in my chest and belly. I felt
cold and empty. Chrissy’s words resonated within me. And how
I would get passed the truth of my life, I had no clue.

Alexander’s stare and teasing penetration kept appearing
in my thoughts. His scent, of course, would always follow, but
today I wasn’t feeling sexual from thoughts of him. Instead I
felt a need for his touch, even though he had only touched me
briefly: for his chest to lay on, his embrace to comfort me, and
his heart to consume mine.

My intentions and plan were never to be alone, but imagining
adding a life of love, a relationship, a marriage to my already
booked life seemed just impossible. Being loved and loving
someone right now would consume me. It didn’t fit. It had
to wait…But what if, like Chrissy, what if my time was taken
away?

“Hey, we ready to go? Do you have plans? We could take
separate cabs if you have things to do.” Chrissy was beat, mentally,
physically, and emotionally exhausted. Her skin had
changed from pale to green, and I could see that this would be
a rough night for her.

“Seriously, you’re stuck with me for the night, babe; I
brought my clothes for tomorrow and everything. I’m not leaving
you like this; I am your buddy for the day and night…if, of
course, that’s OK with you?”

Without pause, Chrissy leaned into me with whatever
strength she had left and embraced me, accepting the help she
knew she would need. “Thank you, that would be really nice,”

she said, trying to hold back her tears yet again.

I clasped my hand in Chrissy’s, and out we went, off to
Chrissy’s apartment to deal with the pain and suffering that
awaited her.

The next morning, I gathered my things and kissed Chrissy
on her forehead as she slept soundly, recuperating from the horrendous
night she had. Checking my cell phone, I noticed I
had twenty-three missed calls from the same number but no
voice mails. The number looked familiar, but not having had it
stored in my contacts, I dismissed it; anyone who wasn’t stored
in my contacts was not important.

Reaching my office, I noticed Samantha was not there to
greet me. When I checked her desk, her computer was on and
there lay a note on her desk from Alexander, asking her to go to
his office as soon as she got in.

What the fuck is that about?

I headed for Alexander’s office at a quick pace and knocked
on the door loudly.

Alexander snapped from behind the door, “What?”

And as I opened the door, my heart melted. Samantha
and Alexander were sitting closely on the couch, deep in
conversation.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Well, isn’t this quaint. Is one personal assistant not enough
for you, Mr. Mason? You’re trying to steal mine from under my
nose? Ms. Carlo, good morning. Can you prep the portfolios for
the ten o’clock please? I’d like to have a word with Mr. Mason
in private.”

Samantha smirked. She knew that I could make even the
strongest of men quiver and that this was all a show; but I knew
she hoped I wouldn’t push it too far.

“Absolutely, Ms. Chase. Mr. Mason, it’s been a pleasure.”

Lowering her voice to a whisper, she mumbled something to
him, “Be smart. Fate will do the rest.” She winked at him and
turned to smirk at me as she left.

At that moment, I felt my stomach churning. They were
up to something, something that involved me, and I didn’t like
to be played.

“Seriously, this is a little low, even for you. I personally
trained—”

Alexander stood to approach me and cut off my words.

“Would you mind closing the door before you proceed to
wrongly accuse me of taking your staff?” Walking toward his
desk, he turned his back to me now. He was being smart with
me.

I remained where I stood but shut the door with force.

Crossing my arms over my chest, standing tall in pinstripes,
perfectly collected, I stood waiting for an explanation. “Are you
going to tell me what this private meeting with my PA was
about? Or should I stand here for your amusement all day?”

The thought excited me, but I couldn’t show it. Except I envisioned
myself kneeling, not standing, by his desk, naked, and
taking him into my mouth. Now that was amusement!

“Ms. Chase, do me a favor and put your attitude away.

Perhaps you want to start explaining your whereabouts yesterday,
and then we can discuss Samantha.” Alexander’s anger
grew as he stared me down, and I had no idea why. What was
his reasoning?

My arms fell. I was stunned. “Wow, twenty minutes in
and you’re on a first name basis with Samantha. Well, let’s see,
where do we start…Ah yes, perhaps when you were snooping
through my extended files in HR, you could have taken
a moment to notice that I had taken a personal day yesterday,
a request that was approved months ago. But then again, how
could you? You were too busy looking into my history and legal
documents. Did you review my family tree as well? Run a
background check?”