| |
ELIZABETH
––––––––
I PRESSED THE “END call” button with unnecessary force. “I don’t get it.”
“What’s wrong, Elizabeth?” Lottie asked.
“One moment he is seducing me, which is, by the way, inappropriate given our employer-employee relationship, and when I respond to that, stupid me, he plays dumb. The man is playing the hot-and-cold game with me.”
“Men usually don’t do hot-and-cold games,” Lottie said. “They like chasing games. He’s intrigued. And while falling in love with your employer may complicate your working relationship, it’s not against the law.”
“I am not ...” I paused to sneeze, “falling in love. That wouldn’t make any sense. I do not know him.”
“Of course you’re not,” Lottie said and patted my hand. “I was talking in more general terms. You’re only awestruck, and it seems he is, too.”
I looked at her suspiciously. “Do you know something that I don’t?”
Lottie ignored my question. “So, Ned Prentice is coming to see you, huh?” she said. “Well, it’ll save us a trip to his office.”
––––––––
NOT LONG AFTERWARD, we heard the doorbell.
“I didn’t know you were still doing house visits, Ned,” I heard Lottie’s voice as she ushered in Dr. Prentice. “I would have called you instead of waiting in your office for hours last Friday.”
“Come on, Charlotte, they brought in a construction worker with a piece of plank nailed to his hand. You saw him. You know what? I’ll take you out to dinner for your trouble ... Hi Elizabeth.”
“Hello, Dr. Prentice.”
Dr. Edward Prentice was a tall, good-looking man, with soft brown eyes and a youthful face. At first glance, he looked to be in his mid-fifties, although his completely white hair suggested he might be older. I’d heard he was a widower.
As he examined me, I glanced at Lottie. She stood by the door, arms crossed over her chest. She looked a bit confused and her cheeks were red.
As soon as he started packing his instruments, she moved closer.
“So, is she okay?” Lottie asked. “She didn’t catch bronchitis or pneumonia, did she?”
Dr. Prentice smiled, shaking his head. “I know that you have our architect’s best interest at heart, but doctor-patient confidentiality also applies to house visits. Would you mind waiting in the kitchen?”
“Oh, it’s okay, Dr. Prentice,” I said. “Lottie can stay. You don’t have bad news, do you?”
“No. It’s just a bad cold. Your lungs are clear. However, a cold can sometimes lead to something that might require antibiotics. If you develop shortness of breath or you feel worse, call me immediately.” He took a business card out of his black bag. “Here are my office, home and cell phone numbers. I’ll stop by tomorrow afternoon to see how you’re doing. Rest and take a lot of fluids. Don’t forget to eat.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“Tell her to slow down, Ned. She’s been working too much,” Lottie said, peeking over Dr. Prentice’s shoulder.
He smiled at me. “She’s right. Don’t work too much. The job can wait a bit.”
Lottie walked Dr. Prentice to the door.
“Is Saturday okay, then?” I heard him ask. “I’ll reserve a table at La Petit Maison, let’s say, for seven o’clock? I’ll be here at six fifty to pick you up.”
There was a long silence.
Lottie must’ve nodded, because the next thing I heard was Dr. Prentice’s voice again, soft and emotional. “Thank you, Charlotte.”
Lottie returned to the living room. Before I could say a word, she pointed her index finger in my direction. “No questions. There’s nothing to discuss. Do you want some more soup?”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on! I just let you hear my confidential medical diagnosis, and before that you made me confess that I had a crush on my boss. You said that’s okay. Now the handsome Dr. Prentice asks you out and you’re trying to tell me it is not okay. Please explain.”
Lottie’s lips tugged upward. “Well, it’s only a friendly dinner.”
“Yeah. Right. He’s your friend, I know that. But is he more than that? He calls you ‘Charlotte’, not Lottie like everyone else.”
“We dated when we were young,” Lottie said, looking somewhere above my head. “Then we broke up and married other people. We were both happy, you know.”
“And now you’re both widowed. Nothing’s preventing you from continuing where you left off long ago.”
She didn’t say anything, lost in her memories. She looked distant and fragile and I felt a rush of emotion. I reached out and took her hand. “Listen,” I said, “I have an idea. I’ve already shared my germs with you so why don’t you stay for a sleepover? I feel better, my fever’s down. I promise I won’t ask you about Dr. Prentice. We can watch a movie and eat the rest of the soup you brought.”
She looked a bit surprised yet pleased by my offer. “I won’t get sick, don’t worry; I have quite a robust immune system. But you’ll need your privacy if your long-distance boyfriend calls.”
“We’re not going to have phone sex. We don’t need privacy. Come on, Lottie. When was the last time you had a slumber party at your best friend’s place?”
“Before you were born,” she said and then looked up at me. “I like Ned a lot, you know, and he likes me. He keeps asking me to go out with him. I don’t know what is stopping me, to be honest. A fear of emotional involvement? Who knows?”
“And now?”
Her shoulders relaxed and her blue eyes smiled. “We’ll go out for dinner and see where it takes us. I don’t have lots of expectations. I don’t know how much is possible to expect at our age.”
I reached for her hand and squeezed it. “What age? Sixties are the new forties, Lottie. Take a chance. If you don’t try, you won’t know.”
––––––––
MY STRANGE EMPLOYER called around six o’clock to check on my condition. I was reminded to stay in bed and forget about my work. He was pleased to hear Lottie was staying overnight.
The emotional distance was gone. I felt wrapped up in his deep voice, filled with concern.
It left me even more confused. What was going on in his life that made him toggle all the time between two distinct dispositions? Which one was the true Khalid Nouri?
At the moment, the one that I liked more had won. God, the man had an ability to hug from a considerable distance. Was he aware he’d been seducing me again? Where was the other Khalid, the brisk and reserved one?
Maybe he was just being polite, but I felt seduced nonetheless.
“I’ll call you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, Elizabeth.”
I liked the sound of my name coming from his lips.
“Good night—”
Good night, Khalid, I wanted to say and wrap him in the softness of my voice. He hadn’t suggested that I call him by his first name yet. I had a feeling I might be Miss Chatwin again soon enough.
“Good night, Mr. Nouri,” I said instead and finished the call.
Later, Lottie and I watched two romcoms, ate soup and some sandwiches she made from leftovers in my fridge. At about half-past midnight we finally went to sleep.
My dreams were not sweet. They were wild and sweaty, with my Khalid Nouri as the protagonist.
I was determined to push him out of my thoughts. Until the next day. Or next call.
He didn’t let me. Around ten o’clock the following morning I got a special delivery: two dozen white roses, a box of the finest Belgian chocolates, and a note, which said, “A serious cold is bad enough without the medical advice of an architect, but please stay in bed and relax. K.”
––––––––
SAVE FOR AN IRRITATING cough, I recovered fast. I believed that the roses, which stayed amazingly fresh long after I’d recovered, had somehow helped.