EMMA DAMIAN 24

D A M I A N

Christmas went well. That's perfectly fine.

Apart from the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about Emma.

I'd spent the majority of the day with Sharon, my mother. She resided in town, just a few blocks from the shop where she worked. Dad died a few years ago, leaving Mom and her two cats, Ginger and Pepper, to fend for themselves. The house was decked out in Christmas decorations, the most of which were island-themed and collected from her many visits.

“Remarry? " she'd inquired, sitting among the jungle plants that crammed her tiny condo. "Why would I marry again? ”

"Don't get me wrong," I'd said, two glasses of the bottle of whiskey Carlos had purchased for me on the mirror-topped coffee table in front of me, "the last thing I want to deal with is some dude dating my Mom."

Ginger's orange shape curled up right next to Mom as "Ho Ho Ho & a Bottle of Rum" from one of Jimmy Buffet's Christmas CDs played on the stereo.

"And why is that? " she inquired, her conniving smile on her face.

"With you, Mom, I'd be concerned about the person." He has no idea what he's getting himself into." I chuckled, raising the glass of whiskey to my lips and looking about at Mom's condo.

The house was as odd as the woman who lived in it.

"Seriously," I said. "Are you happy being single?" If it meant you were happy, I'd put up with a terrible stepfather."

She shook her head, as if it were the most insignificant question in the world.

"Of course I am," I say. What else could I want when I have my boys, my books, and my trips? " She leaned forward and raised her finger. "When it comes to this kind of thing, I'm thinking of you."

"What exactly do you mean? ”

She laughed quickly and sharply. "You understand exactly what I mean. You're still unmarried and don't have a family. It's one thing for a woman like me to live that way - I've been there, done that. And I have a fantastic son and memories with your father to show for it. You, on the other hand, have nothing but a house that is far too large for a single guy."

"It was a great deal." When you do it that way, you wind up paying less per square foot."

Another chuckle. "Oh, I'm sure that place saved you a lot of money."

"I kept telling you I'd get you one, Mom," I explained. "I'll find you a great pad right down the road." It makes no sense to spend your retirement years in such a little space."

She dismissed the idea by waving her hand through the air.

"Why would I want a big house if I'm going to spend half my time dusting?"

”

"Of course, I'd pay someone to do that."

"Listen, child, I understand where your heart is. But I'm content where I am. Now, if you found a nice girl and had a child or two, you might be able to persuade me to pack my belongings and relocate. Until then, I have all I require. In that regard..."

Mom leaned in, a devilish glint in her eye.

“The answer’s no,” I said. “Too busy with work for anything like that.”

It was a lie, but what was I supposed to say?

She shook her head, sitting back.

“You know, you had a good thing all those years ago.”

“What do you mean?”

“That girl you dated in high school – Emma.”

“You remember her name?”

Mom laughed. “Of course I do! When you’re a parent, you’ll get it – you remember the good ones your kid ends up with, and you push the bad ones out of your head as quickly as you can. Like…what was that one named, that gal you were married to, the one who smelled like she got drunk off cheap champagne and stumbled into the perfume counter at Macy’s.”

Now it was my turn to laugh.

“You mean Marian.”

Mom winced. “That’s the one. I swear, what were you thinking with her? You’re a smart boy, you had to know a woman like that would be nothing but trouble.”

Mom didn’t know the whole story, how Marian and more or less blackmailed me into getting married. That’d been part of Marian’s plan. She’d wanted it all to look picture perfect, and without the impression of it being a shotgun marriage – which is what it was.

“You had a great girl like Emma and dumped her for a total floozy like Mary.”

“Marian.”

Another dismissive hand wave, her bright pink nails a quick blur in the air in front of her face.

“Whatever – girl like that isn’t worth getting her name right.”

“It’s…more complicated than that,” I said.

Mom cocked her head to the side. “What? Complicated how?”

Part of me didn’t want to tell her. The whole affair had been such a disaster that I’d kept it to myself, never told a soul. Dad hadn’t known the truth, and Mom didn’t either.

But I realized it was time to fess up, to get it off my chest. Hell, I’d told Damian – telling Mom would be another good exercise in telling the truth.

Not to mention it’d be good practice for telling the woman I was really worried about letting know.

“Let’s hear it, kid,” she said. “You got something on your mind, and I want to know.”

I reached for the whiskey, but Mom swiped it off the table before I could get to it. With a wicked grin, she opened it up and began pouring.

“You talk, I pour.”

Once the glasses were full, she pushed one of them over to me. I took a sip and went to it.

Mom’s expressions, as always, let me know exactly how she felt about what I had to say.

And when I was done, she didn’t hold back.

“That…that bitch.”

I couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, sitting back and resting my glass of whiskey on my knee.

“No, Mom,” I said. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“What on earth am I supposed to say?” I asked. “She blackmailed you into marrying her, made you dump the love of your life, and now she’s sauntering back into the picture like she didn’t do a damn thing wrong.”

I raised my palm, asking wordlessly for her to stop.

“Whoa-whoa-whoa – love of my life?”

Mom gave me a cock-eyed glance, as if she weren’t sure she’d heard me right.

“Uh, yeah. You were crazy about that girl, kid. She was all you talked about.”

“I don’t know about that. I mean, we had feelings for each other, but we were way too young.”

“Sounds to me like you’re doing some selective editing of your past. Even if you hadn’t said anything, which you did, I knew how much she meant to you by the way your face lit up whenever I asked about her.

“I still think you’re exaggerating the situation but go on.”

As I spoke, I knew Mom was right. I could feel in my heart how much I wanted her, the depth of my wanting.

I was being a total idiot, just like I had all those years ago when I’d managed to trick myself into thinking I wasn’t hurting Emma, that it wouldn’t sting to let her go, that I could make a good life with Marian.

“You’ve always played things close to the chest, Dame. And I know that’s what you’re doing now. But let me tell you this – second chances don’t come around all that often. If she comes back into your life, you’d better do whatever it takes to make her stay. And to make up for what you did to her.”

She tossed back her whiskey.

“And telling her the truth? That wouldn’t hurt matters either.”

A couple of days later, I was back at work. The office was running a skeleton crew, just enough staff to handle emergencies, the rest taking their holiday break.

No such luck for me when it came to time off. I ran my clinic, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. And part of being on top meant the buck stopped at me.

And that meant paperwork – lots and lots of paperwork.

Nearly every damn decision made by anyone in my clinic, from the doctors to the support staff, required some sort of documentation. It was a pain in the ass, but keeping records made things run more smoothly.

So, while the rest of the staff was enjoying their time off with family, paperwork had been building up. After taking a couple of days off for Christmas, it was time to get it done.

Seated at my desk, the door shut and some Depeche Mode on the stereo, I powered through the massive stack of paperwork on my desk. Most of it required nothing more than a looking over, followed by some signing and dating.

I was in the zone when a chime sounded through my office.

“Yes?” I asked, my finger on the intercom.

“Dr. Aquino?” The words weren’t delivered in the chipper tone of my secretary, Lori.

“Who is this?”

“It’s Beth.” Beth Quizon was my head nurse – and a damn good one. I was in charge of the clinic, but some days I wondered how the hell I’d be able to run the place without her.

“Beth! What’s up? And does Lori know you’re in her command center? If so, watch out – you move a pencil and she’ll be all over you.”

She chuckled. “She knows. Lori’s in the little girl’s room, so I’m manning the front for a minute.”

“Well,” I said, a smirk on my lips. “As much as I admire your commitment to keeping me in the loop, I think Lori’s free to use the facilities without me knowing about it.”

She chuckled at my smart-ass joke.

“Not why I buzzed you.”

“What’s up?” I was curious, actually – as far as I knew, we didn’t have any appointments for the day.

“There’s, um, a woman here for you.”

This got an eyebrow raise. “A woman?”

“Yep, and a good-looking one, too. Very glamorous, very va-va-voom.”

“Gimme a sec – I’ll be right with them.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

I took my finger off the talk button and got up, straightening my tie and giving myself a quick once-over in the reflection of my computer monitor.

Was it Emma? Beth had made a point of mentioning how beautiful the woman had been. And Emma was the picture of beauty as far as I was concerned. But why would she be here?

I stepped over to the door and opened it up, and the smell of perfume thick in the air answered the question of my guest’s identity.

Marian.

Before I had a chance to react, she sashayed around the corner, all boobs and blonde hair and a mouth full of pearl-white veneers. She was dressed in a matching top and bottom of gold velour, a black leather overcoat on top, a big, big smile on her face.

“There’s my handsome doctor,” she said.

Then she was all over me, throwing her arms around my body and pulling me close, the overpowering scent of her perfume wrapping around me like a big, misty hand. Even through her outfit her fake boobs were like a pair of bowling balls.

“Marian,” I said, stepping back and out of her grasp. “What the hell are you doing here? And what’s with this outfit? You looking like an over-the-hill Russian mobster’s third mistress.”

“What, you don’t like it?” she asked, cocking her hip to the side as if making damn sure I saw how tight her pants were. “Just a little something I threw on.”

Marian and I hadn’t been married for long, but it’d been long enough for me to know she never just threw anything on. She always dressed with a purpose, and her showing up to my place of work wearing an outfit that looked more like body paint than clothes had already made me suspicious of her intentions.

“Anyway,” she said, sliding past me, the smell of her perfume making my eyes water like I’d just eaten a habanero or two. “How are you?”

Marian entered my office, and I was so bowled over by her audacity that all I could do was step in after her. She took a seat on the edge of the desk, leaning forward just enough to draw attention to how low her top was zipped.

“Can I give you a doctor’s opinion?”

“Always.”

“Might want to pull that zipper up a little higher unless you want to risk frostbite on those things. Not sure if the warranty’s still good, you know?”

She glanced down at her breasts, then back up at me. Marian still seemed pleased as hell, as if her only takeaway from my joke was that she’d succeeding in drawing attention to her chest.

“Funny as always, Doc.”

“Seriously,” I said, putting some firmness into my tone. “What’s up? You know I’m not big on unexpected visits – especially to the office.”

I was throwing out about as many hints as I could that I wasn’t happy at all that she’d stopped by. With a quick button press on the stereo remote, I turned down the music.

She curled her lip in a sly smile. “You know how much I love when you’re so businesslike and to-the-point. In that case, I’ll get right to it.”

“That’d be nice.”

She narrowed her eyes, tilting her head forward.

“I want you back, Damian.”

Should’ve figured she’d show up for a reason like that.

I didn’t even need to think about it. “Not going to happen.”

“And why not?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips. “You’re single, aren’t you?”

I laughed at the idea that my single-dom was as good of a reason as any to get back with the woman who’d almost ruined my life.

“OK, yes. And you’re not. What about your, uh, marriage? I doubt ol’ hubby would be too pleased to know what you were up to.” The situation between her and the dude I’d seen her with at the auction was so obviously a sham that even calling it a “marriage” seemed like an insult to the institution.

“Oh, him?” She spoke as if it were the most minor detail imaginable. “He’s on the way out. Trust me – I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t ready to give myself over to you totally.”

I was pissed, so pissed that I didn’t even know what to say.

“Think about it,” she said. “We don’t have to have anything serious. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance, spend a little time with me and see how it goes.”

“Give you a chance? Marian, we were married. And you got me into that marriage by telling the lie to end all lies.”

Another dismissive look. “I was a kid, Damian. Kids make mistakes. All I knew back then was that I had to have you, and I was ready to do whatever it took to make it happen.”

“Yeah, I’ll fucking say.”

“But you can’t act like there’s nothing between us, like we didn’t have potential. What I want now is to give it another try, to be together as two mature adults, adults who are in crazy-love with one another.”

I held up my hands, not even sure to begin with all this nonsense.

“What…what the hell are you talking about? Crazy-love?”

“Please, Damian. Don’t act like you don’t feel it the same why I do. The moment I laid eyes on you at that auction, dressed in that oh-so-tight set of scrubs…I knew I had to have you again. I want you back, I want what he had but without the lies. And you’re out of your mind if you don’t think I know you feel the same way.”

“Wow. That’s…OK. You need to see a damn shrink for your delusions.”

She only shook her head slowly, as if I were some dumb kid who just wasn’t getting it.

“Damian, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re not going to get anyone more perfect for you than me. And I’m willing to do anything to convince you I’m right.”

She lifted herself off the desk and began moving slowly toward me, sexual heat burning in her shadowed eyes.

“Listen, Marian,” I said. Losing my temper. “It’s not going to happen. What you did back then was unforgivable, and you’re out of your mind if you think I’m ever going to give you another shot.”

Anger briefly flashed over her face.

“I know what it is,” she said. “It’s her. You’re distracted from where your attention needs to be because you’re too focused on that murderer’s daughter.”

Putting up with Marian’s typical bullshit was one thing – bringing Emma into the conversation was another matter.

I raised a finger in accusation. “What’s going on between Emma and me is none of your business. And you’d be smart to keep her name out of your mouth.”

“I don’t know what happened between you and her in Vegas, but I don’t have any hesitation in telling you it was nothing compared to what we have. But tell me, Damian, you’re not still into that clueless little idiot, are you?”

That was the last straw.

“Get out Marian,” I said, sticking my finger toward the door. “Get the fuck out now.”

She laughed, as if amused by the whole thing. “Aw, you’re so cute when you’re angry. Please. Damian, I don’t want to see you make an ass out of yourself trying to get her back. So, I’m giving you the chance to forget all about that, to pick up where we left off.”

I opened my mouth to tell her “no” once and for all. But she didn’t get me the chance.

Instead, she swooped in, putting her hand on my inner thigh and moving it up between my legs.

“Now,” she said. “Let me show you what you’ve been missing.”

Before I could move out of her grasp, she shoved her hand into the back of my hair and pulled my face toward hers, Marian’s lips sealing against mine.

I was so stunned at what was happening that it took me a few seconds to come to my senses. But when I finally did, I managed to put my hands on her hips and push her back, the force of her lips separating from mine reminding me of pulling a suction cup off a glass window.

“What the hell?”

I froze. My back was to the office door, but Marian was facing it. She looked over my shoulder, a knife-slit scheming smile on her face.

I didn’t need to turn to see who the voice belonged to.

Emma.