Better Than None (6 page)

“Don’t you remember how good it was?” he leaned in, trying to be sexy
but all I was feeling was disgust at myself and at him.

“Actually, no.”

“Come on, I’ll remind you.” his grip on the back of my neck tightened
and I pulled back.

“No thanks.”

“Maybe you just need a little incentive.” He stepped closer so that his
semi-hard cock was now pressed against my knee.

“Seriously, I’m not interested.” I tried to pull away but he just
ground himself in harder as he dug his fingers in deeper. “Ow please, Dave,
seriously, I don’t want that.”

“Why are you being such a bitch?” he spat, literally. Little bits of
spit hit my face as if his insult weren’t bad enough.

“I don’t think she’s the bitch here.” I heard a familiar firm voice say
from behind me.

“Excuse me?” Dave said as he straightened up and puffed out his chest,
finally releasing my neck.

“I said, I don’t think she’s the bitch here. So, that would leave
you
as the bitch in this scenario.” I knew that voice. I still hadn’t turned
around. I didn’t need to.

Dave looked at me, and then at the man behind me and backed away. “Fine
dude. She’s all yours. Little bit of advice, get a few more drinks in her and
she’ll be begging you for it.”

I blushed with embarrassment and wished Dave’s crotch was still pressed
up against my knee because I would have pressed back, hard. Dave gave me one
last smirk and a wink before he turned and walked away. I couldn’t quite
believe my luck or timing. If I’d believed in fate or signs, I’m sure this
would have been a big bright shiny blinking neon sign telling me never to set
foot in a bar again. I really didn’t want to turn around and face the good
doctor, but eventually I would have to. Worse than that, I had to actually
thank the smug bastard. But hell, obviously I’d done a lot worse with men the
likes of Dave, so a little more pride swallowing wouldn’t kill me.

When I swiveled around and looked up, he wasn’t the ass I’d argued with
only a few hours earlier. It was the same look he’d had the last time I saw him
in the other bar. There was no arrogance or self-righteousness. He actually
looked kind.

“Thank you, Dr. Rosenberg.”

He just shrugged and tilted his head. He didn’t say anything, he just
looked at me. This man was big into eye contact, and the way he was looking at
me, I couldn’t tell what he was trying to see, but finally, I looked away.

“Hey, Brad, what can I get you?” the bartender asked.

“Macallan, thanks Jim.”

“Does every bartender in town know you?”

He sat down and actually smiled a little. “I’m probably giving you the
wrong impression.”

“Well after what good old Dave shared, I’m not so sure your impression
of me is any better.”

“I don’t listen to jackasses.”

“From what I’ve seen, you don’t listen to most anyone.”

He chuckled. “Well, most people are jackasses, so you’re probably right
there.”

 “So, just how many bartenders know you on a first name basis?”

“You happen to have chosen the two bars I frequent.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Do I strike you as the type of man who kids?”

I laughed, actually laughed, which made him smile. Not just smirk, but
a full on smile.

“No, not at all.”

He took a long sip and then mused, “Good to know my reputation’s still
in tact.”

“And that reputation is…?”

He thought for a moment as he looked into his glass of scotch and
swirled the amber liquid around before lifting the glass to his lips. He took a
deep breath before he answered.

“Whatever it is, it’s well-deserved.”

I could relate.

“You have no one to blame but yourself?” I asked, almost afraid to hear
his answer.

“Something like that.”

Emboldened by the alcohol, I asked, “So there
is
someone else to
blame?”

He gave me one of his trademark Dr. Rosenberg stares. “Sometimes,
Stephanie, there’s no one, nothing to blame. Sometimes, things just happen.
People think if they find out why something happened, it’ll miraculously change
the outcome.”

“Yep, your reputation is still in tact.” I said as I turned back to my
drink. Just like that he had switched back to condescending ass.

He exhaled loud enough for me to hear. “But to answer your question,
yes, I blame myself for a lot of things. There are others to blame too, but I
know what I’ve done, where I’ve fucked up. I can’t change that.”

“I hope you’re talking about your personal life and not your
professional one.”

The good doctor didn’t like the inference but hell, my mother’s life
was literally in his hands. If he’d fucked up in his personal life, what did I
care? But if he fucked up with patients, yeah, I cared.

“You strike me as a smart woman. I’m sure you can figure out which I’m
talking about.”

I shook my head and rolled my eyes as I downed the rest of my drink and
signaled the bartender for my bill. I really couldn’t believe that once again,
this man was driving me away from a bar.

“History’s repeating itself?”

“You strike me as a smart man, doctor. I’m sure you can figure out the
answer to that.”

He chuckled. “Touché.” He seemed amused, by what I wasn’t sure. Perhaps
people didn’t typically call him on his shit.

As I reached to grab the bill he put his hand on my forearm, startling
me. I tensed to move my arm but he just kept his hand there. I don’t know what
it was, his touch? His refusal to let go? Whatever it was, I hated that my body
betrayed me, as I felt something deep down inside me. It couldn’t be attraction
or desire. Not to him, not to this arrogant jerk.

“You can let go of my arm.”

“I know I can.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“I don’t want to make you leave again.”

“Why, because you so clearly enjoy my company?”

He relaxed his grip and removed his hand. The spot where it was
suddenly felt cold. He shrugged and downed the rest of his drink.

“You probably won’t find this hard to believe, but I have a knack of
driving people away. It’s one of my many skills.”

I smiled. “One you’ve honed over the years?”

“It takes a lot of practice to be as big of a prick as I am.”

I snorted as I laughed. “Did you really just brag about your size?”

He smiled as he let his eyes drift down and then back up my body. “I
don’t need to brag, Stephanie.”

I rolled my eyes and reached again for the bill. This conversation was
going nowhere, though I was actually enjoying the sparring. And again he
grabbed my arm.

“Dr. Rosenberg.”

“Brad.”

“Dr. Rosenberg.” I repeated and he smiled. I think he enjoyed the
sparring too.

“Have a drink with me. Let me fool myself into believing I didn’t drive
you away for a second time.”

“No offense, but you’re kind of the reason I came here. Much like the
last time I ran into you. I wanted to forget the cancer for a couple of hours.”
Before he could give me some depressing speech again, I clarified. “I know
it’ll still be there, but I just wanted to pretend for a little while before I
go back to reality.”

He nodded. “No offense taken. I get it. If anyone gets it, I do.”

He signaled the bartender and ordered another round for both of us.

“I thought you understood that I wasn’t staying.”

“I understood that you wanted to get away from cancer.” He stuck out
his hand and said, “Hi, I’m Brad.” He forced a bit of a smile.

I rolled my eyes and shook his hand. I’d lost my fight, and if I were
being truly honest with myself, a part of me was enjoying talking or arguing
with the good doctor.

“Hi, I’m Steph.”

“It’s nice to meet you Steph.” He paused and I could almost see the
wheels turning trying to think of what to say next, but all he came back with
was, “Uh, is that short for Stephanie?”

I burst out laughing. “Wow, maybe we should talk about cancer if that’s
your witty repartee.”

“I’ve never been one for small talk.”

“You don’t say?”

He shrugged and took a sip of the fresh cocktail in front of him.

“Actually, neither am I.” I took a sip, and then, it must have been the
alcohol talking. “In fact, as messed up as some of this conversation has been,
I think I’ve talked more here with you than I ever have with any man in a bar.”

“Uh, thank you?”

“My point exactly.”

He laughed and then raised his glass. “To small talk.” I repeated it
and we clinked glasses. Then there was silence.

“I think this is the part where we ask each other what we do for a living
or talk about sports or…”

His expression changed and became somber. He shook his head and took a
moment, like he was warring with himself before he spoke. “How was your mom
feeling after today’s session?”

“What? I thought you understood. I thought we just agreed… I don’t want
to talk about that.” I huffed.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t sit here and pretend.”

“Well, you didn’t try very hard.” I sounded like a petulant child, but
I didn’t care.

“No, I didn’t.” He said almost apologetically. “I just know I can’t.”

“And I can’t either.” I wasn’t going to delay leaving any longer. He
could pick up my damn tab again. I grabbed my purse, slid off the stool and
once again walked out of the bar because of the good doctor.

As I walked to the bathroom, I chided myself for starting to enjoy
sitting and talking with my mother’s oncologist. Even flirting. I’m not sure
what the hell I expected from him or from me. I should have known better than
to think that people could change just like that, that I could have a nice conversation
with someone who could be such a jerk. Then again, there was that other side of
him. Who knew, maybe that was what Dave thought of me. Two totally different
people.

Lost in thought as I dug through my purse to find my keys I walked
straight into Dr. Rosenberg as I came out of the bathroom.

“Seriously?” I was getting tired of this game. I didn’t know what he
wanted but with everything that was going on, I didn’t have the energy to play.

“I came to apologize.”

I stared up at him and tried to read his expression. He was back to his
soft side, and damn it if I didn’t soften too.

“You don’t need to.” I said softly and started to walk past him, but he
shifted so I couldn’t pass.

“Yes, I do. You told me you were trying to get away from something and
I shoved it right back in your face. I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m just not very
good at bullshit.”

“Yeah, I got that.” I looked down at my shoes as I tried to reconcile
what I was feeling. Maybe I was a glutton for punishment. I knew the man
standing before me could be a colossal asshole, but there was something so sad
about him, so broken. Maybe I saw me in him. The way he lashed out pushed
people away before they could get close. I know that’s what I did.

When I looked back up his expression was neither sad nor arrogant. It
was one that I recognized from many men in many different bars. He reached out
and gently tucked my hair behind my ear. My heart started pounding, as his hand
traced down my cheek and stopped when it got under my chin, gently tilting my
head up towards his as he leaned down and kissed me. It wasn’t a kiss like most
of my drunken kisses with strangers. For one, I wasn’t drunk. Second, I knew
this man. Not well, but he wasn’t a stranger. Strange perhaps, but when his
lips met mine, I felt something I never had with all those other men. A
connection. Desire. I wasn’t just returning his kiss to prove something, I
actually liked it, liked the way his lips and tongue felt. For once, my body
was responding without my mind playing a part. He walked me backwards as we
kissed and when my back hit the wall he pressed against me with a passion that
terrified me. His kiss became so intense, so needy, I pulled away, gasping for
breath. As good as it felt, my brain finally kicked in.

“I, I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” I panted as I pushed him back. He gave
me my space and nodded. He didn’t ask why, he didn’t protest or push. He just
slid his hands in his pockets as he took another step backwards to watch me
leave.

****

As I drove home, I wondered how stupid or fucked up I must have been to
have felt what I was feeling. I didn’t feel bad about having kissed him, I’d
done far worse in the past and was at the point in my life to know that if I
continued to feel bad about all that I’d done, well, I’d never feel good again.
So it wasn’t that we’d kissed. It was that I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
He was a dick, and probably pretty messed up, and I liked him. I don’t know if
it was because I wasn’t piss drunk or actually him, but whatever I was feeling
wasn’t anything I was used to.

I had a fitful night’s sleep and by 4am, when it was clear that I
wouldn’t be dozing back off, I took my dogs for an extra long run and was in
the office by 6:45. I tried to get my mind to focus on work, but instead it
kept bouncing between kissing Dr. Rosenberg, worrying about my mom, and waiting
and hoping Marty would be in early. I didn’t want to start taking our early
morning chats for granted, but I was becoming so comfortable with him, he made
me feel taken care of and didn’t seem to want anything in return.

So when he stood in my doorway, I smiled and felt my shoulders relax
even though I didn’t like admitting to myself that I had actually been waiting
for him.

“It’s nice to see you smile, Steph. How did yesterday go?” he asked as
he set down a coffee and a scone.

“Marty, if you keep this up, I’m going to have to tack on an extra
couple miles to my runs.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “If anything, I should be
bringing you two scones instead of just one. You’ve lost weight since you
started here. I’m worried about you. You’re not taking care of yourself.”

Marty wasn’t wrong. With everything that had been going on over the
last couple months, I’d lost my appetite most days. Still, it wasn’t exactly
appropriate for my boss to notice that type of thing, no matter how nice it
felt that he did. As much as part of me liked how caring he was, this was too
much. If he was this in tune with me, if he noticed this, then he’d eventually
see through my flimsy façade, if he hadn’t already. I’d worked too hard to
become someone new. I didn’t want to push Marty away, but I had to protect
myself.

“I’m fine Marty. Plus, I’ve got my mom to take care of.”

“And who’s taking care of you?

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me. That’s my job. As is this.” I
pointed to my computer. I didn’t like being under this type of scrutiny. He
clenched his jaw and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’re right. It’s none of my business.”

“I’m sorry, Marty. I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth.”

He smiled and relaxed. “So now I’m a horse?”

I smiled and relaxed too. “There are worse animals to be compared to.”

“Like?”

“A monkey. Pig. Hedgehog. You want me to keep going?”

He shook his head, erasing the small smile that had been there,
replacing it with something else. Exasperation? “Look, I’m sorry if I’m
overstepping. I’m just concerned, that’s all. I know you’ve got a lot on your
plate and I don’t think you’d ask anyone for help if you needed it.”

“I’ve already asked you for more than I’m comfortable asking. Speaking
of which, I have to take my mom in for another procedure tomorrow. I’ll be out
all day. But everything on the Illusion campaign is still on track and I’ll
have my laptop with me so I can work while I’m at the hospital, I just can’t
come in. I’m sorry, Marty. You have no idea how much I hate asking.”

“I think I do.” He paused and then looked uncomfortable. “Speaking of
the Illusion account, everything I’ve seen looks great…” his words hung in the
air. There was obviously something bothering him.

“But?”

“No but. It’s just…”

“Marty, you’re starting to worry me, have I done something wrong?”

“No, no, not at all. I just talked with Dave Abraham, the photographer
and…” Marty trailed off as I felt my stomach sink.

“And? What did Dave say? Was he not pleased with how the shoot turned
out?” I tried to keep my voice steady and the conversation focused on work.

“No, I mean yeah, everyone’s thrilled with the work. It looks great. He
just said that you, well, that you were kind of rude to him.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

I surprised Marty with my outburst, which perhaps confirmed what he
just said, but I didn’t care. Maybe this was what I needed to put a little
distance between us.

“Look, Marty. You believe what you want to believe. I know you don’t
really know me, and he said you guys have worked together for years, so…” I
trailed off. I wasn’t going to explain or dignify whatever it was that Dave had
said. I needed this conversation to end. “Thanks for the coffee and scone. I’ve
got a lot of work to do to keep on schedule.”

“I’m sorry if I upset you, Steph.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m a big girl.” I turned back to my computer
but I could see out of the corner of my eyes that Marty stood there staring at
me for a few more seconds before he grabbed his bag and walked out.

I couldn’t believe that Dave’s ego was so fragile that he actually told
my boss I was rude. Rude because I wouldn’t fuck him again? God, what an
asshole. I also had a hard time coming to grips with the fact that my worlds
were colliding like this. I had tried so hard to keep things separate, to start
fresh, but like my mom’s cancer, it was becoming clear that there were just
some things that were far beyond my control.