I pull my hair to the front to allow him full access. If his hand hesitates a little as the zip slides down, the warmth of his fingers is more than welcome. Perhaps it’s residual heat from the coffee, but everything about this morning is unfolding exactly as it should. Despite everything – don’t mention my Ex and the Minx, nor Phoebe – life is a dream. A good one.
Chapter 3
Dirk
APPOINTMENTS:Lunch with Jamison
Not my best day. With Millie gone two years, I’d finally agreed to retire early and relocate to the city, closer to my children. I’m still getting into the swing of my new life – and now I’ve spilled coffee on a stranger in Jill’s frock shop.
Won’t mention it to the kids. Jamison and Dee are so grown up they now boss me around. Jamison asked me to collect his car after its overnight service; insisted I take a spin in his shiny red convertible, so I visited my sister at her dress store.
The last payment from selling my family medical practice in Franklin came through yesterday, so I wanted to tell Jill in person I’m cancelling her debt to me.
Unfortunately, I had trouble starting Jamison’s fancy car. The kid at the service desk told me I didn’t actually need a key, and when he fiddled with my phone and the engine started up by itself, my old face was as red as the car.
I still had time to drive to Jill’s boutique, surprise her with the good news, and then meet Jamison at his business with the car. He’s promised me lunch in return.
My mistake was to overdo the whole Jill thing. I got take-out coffees for us before dropping in.
I drop in, alright – drop coffee on Jill’s classy customer.
I don’t generally notice women – Millie was my one and only – but I’d be lying if I pretended this one didn’t catch my eye, so ... shapely. In one of Jill’s best gowns – emerald green, sleek as an otter – she reminds me of Elizabeth Taylor.
The coffee lands on the full skirt and I breathe a sigh of relief, glad I avoid giving her beautiful bare back third degree burns. Jill’s horrified. She loves her stock.
Flush with cash for the first time in my life, I take the easy way out – fish out some notes and hand them over to the customer – to let her buy the dress and get it dry-cleaned. She hands the cash to Jill. Win. Always feels good to do the right thing.
Okay. I see the price tag when I helped the lady with the zipper. Expensive, but all of Jill’s stock is expensive. Accidents like this must happen from time to time in retail. Jamison calls it risk management. They even happen in medicine, though I worked like a demon to keep my patients as healthy as possible and heal them fast. Sure kept me busy. Too busy. Whole decades went by while I wasn’t looking.
Jill frowns at me. She always was a terrible sulk.
Her customer flashes her extraordinary eyes all the way down me and up again, then gives me full beam. Are they violet, or deep green? When she flutters her eyelashes, she has me stuttering like a teenager.
Those eyes are quicksilver. She masks her shock; replaces it with something else – curiosity? A calculation? I’ve met thousands of people. As a family practice doctor, I never saw them at their best. For sure, no patient was ever dressed in a gown this alluring; more like farm overalls. And they were in pain, or sad. This woman’s in great health and raring to go ... somewhere. With me?
I tear my eyes away from hers; stare down at the eye-catching waistline of the outfit. Frying pan to fire. The woman whips out her phone and asks for mine. Sends herself a message so she has my number; says she’ll pay me back if the stain comes out.
