Smolder (8 page)

“How did you get the sweaty man smell out of here?” I asked.

“My girlfriend got nauseous the first time she rode with me, so I drove straight to a full service car wash. They did it.” He smiled at me as he pulled out of the driveway.

The ride to the store was quick. My brother took time to learn the area around my house and was pleasantly surprised to find a number of small shops tucked away on the side of the road. We went to a small mom and pop clothing store whose owner was a seamstress.

She took one look at me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me into a dressing area. There wasn't a mirror, and while I felt less self-conscious, she remained in the room. Once I was in my panties and bra, which she made sure to point out didn't match, she took my measurements and told me to stay put. Any thought I had of leaving the room disappeared when I heard voices I didn't recognize.

The woman was a genius. She pulled three dresses for me to try on and each one was a perfect fit. When she found out the man accompanying me was my brother, she shoved him behind the curtain with me. They talked about each dress and discussed the proper accessories. I honestly looked for the “your friends told us you need a makeover” cameras. I bought all three dresses and the jewelry to match. We stepped outside, and Josh pulled me to a shoe shop a short walk away.

“You are proud of yourself,” I said as he strutted in front of me.

“She told me I have a great eye for fashion
and
offered me a job in her family-owned shop if I ever decide to retire.”

It looked like I could have my brother for company in Savannah after all. The shoes we purchased had small heels and went with all three dresses. Coordination of outfits was something I could mess up with little to no effort. At one point in high school, Josh had used color markers to tell me what I could wear with what.

The day wore me out, and I hung my new clothes in the closet before falling into bed. I woke up in a cold sweat around three in the morning with no memory of what scared me. I washed my face, changed into my pajamas, and tried to shake the fear as I fell back to sleep. The alarm sounded distant as I drifted back from wherever I had gone. Dream analysts would have had a tough time with me. I never remembered anything.

Chapter Seven

The office sparkled the next morning. Lee had shopped for supplies and some decorative items with an assurance from the sales people that small children couldn't break them. The place felt more comfortable. I grabbed a cup of coffee and headed to my desk. The inbox was empty, but I was sure the electronic mailbox was not. I waded through the first fifty messages, most of them sent to the entire staff, and got up for a coffee refill.

A cough behind me as I filled my cup was followed by Dmitri’s voice.

“Good morning. Are you ready for our date tonight?"

Something made my gut clench, but I attributed it to coffee on an empty stomach and turned to see him leaning against the doorjamb in jeans and a button-down shirt. I had an urge to find out just how far down that small tuft of black hair bared by his shirt’s lapels traveled.

“I'm ready,” I answered. “I'll write down my address for you.”

“That much caffeine is not good for you,” he said in a gentle tone.

“I'm aware of that, Doctor. I am also aware that without it, my brain would defog around noon. That is a little late to start my workday.”

I wrote down my address and handed it to him.

“It's off the expressway,” I added.

“I think I know where this is," he said, but still looked confused. “I'll call you if I get lost.”

“See you at seven.” I blushed as he kissed my hand and left the room.

Lee had to have been right behind him because her huge grin filled the door the moment he left. “He kissed you? I thought I heard a kiss.”

“You have scary hearing. He kissed my hand.” I felt the tingle in the exact spot his lips parted on my skin.

“And?” She crossed her arms and waited on an assessment.

“Soft lips, gentle, and I still tingle.”

She nodded and was gone in a second. I went back to my email and read through some of the hospital-wide updates. It didn't help me to know when we were out of Type O blood, but it was nice to be included in the general loop. Lee came in while I worked and let me know my morning was free. A quick trip to the cafeteria netted a bagel, cream cheese, and some fruit for the kitchenette. A late breakfast calmed me down just as Owen walked into the office.

“Travis is pleading insanity,” he said.

The former detective wasn't happy.

“I'd be hard pressed to argue with it even if it does frustrate you. A thorough psychological evaluation can't hurt the prosecution. He enjoys hurting people, and that is hard to disguise in tests. Even if he could figure out which questions were specifically looking for that trait.” I tried to assure him.

“I know. But even the best security in mental health facilities is not going to stop him when he wants to leave.”

I hadn't thought about that. I'd pushed the threat away, but as the possibility of an escape sunk in, my heart began to beat faster.

“I feel better now.” Sarcasm and I were old friends when I was stressed.

Owen looked offended.

I continued, “I know you needed to tell me so I would take precautions.”

He paused in the doorway and smiled at me.

“Thank you.” And I meant it.

The bagel thudded in my stomach like a boulder. I realized I never asked Owen to call me if Travis moved to a mental health hospital. I sent an email to his account and hoped he checked it from his phone. I wanted to enjoy my date tonight without wondering if he went to court today. Owen responded immediately that Travis's trial was set up for next week, and he wouldn’t be moved until after his conviction.

I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair. My diaphragmatic breathing exercises got my heart rate back to normal. Lee was in the doorway when I was done.

“What did he tell you that had your pulse pounding in your neck? I could see it.”

Now, she looked worried.

“The man who threatened me is pleading insanity, and Owen isn't sure a mental health facility is secure enough.” The words brought the fear back, and I slowed my breath in response.

Lee said something I didn't understand and walked off. At least he didn't threaten anyone else. It was a small comfort, but it did help to know I was alone on that list as long as his wife and her sister stayed out of the state. For a brief moment, I thought about joining them. I brushed the thought aside and focused on my job. I needed to make rounds and introduce myself to the nurses. The nurses ran the hospitals, all of them.

A stack of new business cards tucked into a pocket in my lab coat, I set off. My first stop was the emergency room. One of the nurses remembered me from the incident with the stuck couple and filled me on what happened when I left. Apparently, the man's wife stormed into the room and shouted at him right up until her lover came inside to find her. He'd been out in the car the entire time. The nurse laughed while she told me how each spouse left with their lover, leaving a relieved staff in their wake.

One of the residents asked me to speak with a young couple who were showing signs of severe alcohol withdrawal. The explanation of why we would have to tie them to the bed in order to prevent injury made an impact, and they called a local rehabilitation and recovery center to set up appointments before they left.

The next stop was the adult intensive care unit. The staff wasn't sure I could help patients who were unconscious or intubated. I explained I also worked with families. They lit up and gave me a list of them they thought could use my services. There were times my job was to help the family members so they didn't frustrate the medical staff. The best surgeons didn't have the answer to every question no matter how many times it was asked.

A text message came in from Lee. “Please get back to the office. I need you to sign paperwork before you leave for your date.”

The smile on my face grew, and I headed back to the office. I was done worrying for the day and now had a date to look forward to. I was sure Josh had a small dinner made so I wouldn't be lightheaded if the restaurant food took a while to get to the table. My first week of work at the new job completed. I was relieved. Other than the threat from Travis, it was an enjoyable start, and I was happy I took the job.

My drive home took longer as I daydreamed a bit on the way. My thoughts kept going back to the kiss on my hand from Dmitri, and I wondered if his lips would feel that soft on mine. I hoped they would, and I wanted to find out. The garage door opened as I drove up, the door stood open and Josh waited for me in the kitchen. He handed me half a sandwich and shooed me to my room to get cleaned up.

The smell of vanilla wafted through the air as the bathtub filled up. A window in the bathroom looked over the backyard, and the sunlight shone on the water of the marsh as I stepped into the tub. The water relaxed my muscles and washed away the smells that clung to my hair from work. Clean and eager to get ready, I dried my hair and put on my makeup. The red wraparound dress fit perfectly and complimented the blue in my eyes. Silver earrings dangled to my shoulders. I felt beautiful, and the look on Josh's face when I stepped into the den for his opinion said he thought so too.

The doorbell rang, and Josh went to greet Dmitri. I heard their introductions as I stepped into the front hallway. Dmitri stopped talking and stared at me. His gaze traveled from my head to my toes and back.

“Good evening, Ellie. You are stunning.”

He leaned in and kissed both of my cheeks, and it took me a minute to regain my balance.

“Thank you, Dmitri. You look elegant in your suit.” James Bond didn't look that hot in a tuxedo.

“It is a monkey suit. All men are required to get one for all occasions.” He brushed off my compliment, but I saw him straighten his collar.

“You two take care tonight. I'll hold down the fort.” Josh pushed both of us out the front door.

Dmitri's car was a black Mercedes Benz SLK Roadster. It was beautiful. I had to fight the urge to run my hands along the curves as he let me into the passenger seat. The drive to dinner was quiet. The radio was set to a classical station. I looked at the beautiful buildings lining the streets of Savannah. Every old movie where the women stepped out onto their personal balcony couldn't do these homes justice. Wrought-iron gates worn from weather and time closed in front of brick walkways that wandered through front yards to wide wraparound porches. I'd never seen a real wraparound porch with the Victorian columns covered in ivy. Large azalea bushes surrounded the homes in pink blossoms that looked like cotton candy.

I wouldn't have been surprised to see a woman or man in period costume step outside to smoke a cigarette. The smells as we passed small restaurants nestled on street corners in the middle of neighborhoods made my stomach growl. Barbecue smoke filled the air behind these squat one-story places and drifted down the street. I sat up higher in my seat and peered up at the three-story homes being renovated and restored. I was in love with Savannah and knew before we reached the restaurant that I would call this city home for a long time.

“It is quite beautiful,” Dmitri said. “In Russia, we have great architecture on our government buildings. In Italy, the beauty is like it is here. It is on the homes, and stretches away from the cities into the surrounding country.”

“I may never leave,” I replied.

“I had that same thought the first time I explored the city.”

He reached over, and with his right hand, he brushed my elbow. I sank back into my seat and offered my hand in response. His hand was soft, and he held on until we reached the front of the valet parking line.

The maitre d’ addressed Dmitri by name and took us immediately to a secluded table on the second floor. It sat next to a window that overlooked a courtyard full of flowers in full bloom.

“I can see why you like this table.”

“We see a lot of death at the hospital. I needed a place to come occasionally to get away.”

Again, I noticed he seemed embarrassed and looked away for a moment.

“I was going to ask how you manage to see all of that blood every day. I couldn't do your job. I'm not any good with body fluids.”

“You get used to it after a while,” he said and smiled at me. “At first it did bother me, but as I went through my residency and saw how we can put someone back together it became less of a problem.” He reached across the table and took my hand in his, stroking my hand with his fingers. “I love putting people back together when it looks impossible.” He paused and kissed my palm. “I don’t know how you do your job. It would feel like interrogation to me. The Soviet government used to ask questions. I never liked it because my parents said there was never a right answer. If the KGB wanted to take you in, they would. Even if you answered the questions the way we were taught.”

“I'm not good at answering questions about myself,” I confessed. “I’m good at asking them and using the answers to form better questions to solve a problem.”

“But your job is to talk to people.” He looked surprised.

“From the moment I step into a patient's room or they step into my office, it's all about them. I've learned enough to help them with their problems, but the sessions are never about me.” I liked that part of my job.

My problems faded completely when I was in a patient’s room. It was a great way to stop mulling over something I couldn't figure out and let something, or someone, else, be the focus for an hour.

“I never thought about it that way. But it does make sense.”

The waiter brought our dinners. We had each ordered a small steak with baked potato and salad. After dinner, we sat in comfortable silence sipping coffee.

“We need to get going.” Dmitri sounded disappointed. “I would rather sit here and enjoy your beauty and this coffee.”

“There will be more opportunities,” I said without thinking.

“Really?” he replied.

I nodded as he took my hand and squeezed it to help me to my feet. At the valet station, he handed over his ticket and then put his arm around me. I leaned into the embrace, and he kissed the top of my head. He tilted my head until I looked in his eyes. He bent down, and when his lips touched mine, I held on tighter. His kiss was gentle, and too brief, as the valet arrived with the car.

The Savannah Philharmonic performed at the Lucas Theatre on Broughton Street downtown. It was the theatre on Savannah's College of Arts and Design campus whose buildings scattered around downtown. Dmitri had front row seats for this performance. We were seated ten minutes before the performance started. I checked my phone, as did he, and saw that I had two text messages from Josh. I didn't read them, sure he asked how the date progressed. I figured my silence would suffice as an answer.

The performance was entertaining, and afterward, Dmitri talked to one of the musicians he knew. He put his arm around my waist as we walked to the parking deck. I put my arm around him and leaned into him. We walked slowly, and he pointed out some of the architecture on the buildings. The streets weren’t crowded, but when we passed a group of people coming the other way he traced his hand down my arm and held my hand.

The breeze that came down the streets smelled of food and flowers. I held on and realized he made me happy. It was the best first date I’d ever been on, and I didn’t want it to end. Once in the car, he again reached for my hand, and I don't know how he concentrated on driving because my thoughts were focused on his fingers gently rubbing my palm. My breathing was shallow by the time we pulled into my driveway.