Cheating to Survive (Fix It or Get Out) (15 page)

Sweltering temperatures engulfed her body. Not a hot flash, not now. “Thank you. I did work hard on it.”

“Victoria, do you write other pieces? You’re a dietitian, correct?”

“Yes, I am.”

“You should consider handing in some pieces on nutrition. We have many articles on general health, even fitness but no one is writing anything specifically on nutritional concerns. Would you be interested?”

Victoria jumped into her car, her fingers unable to turn the ignition. Writing? She never considered this. What exactly had she written? She pulled out a copy of the article and held it up to read. The glorious sunlight sparkled on the page and magnified its excellence. This represented a fine piece of work.

The phone hummed in her pocket book. She snatched it dreading Ed’s voice on the other end. Obviously he wanted something. Food? Beer? More white underwear?

The number unfamiliar, she hit the green key. “Hello?”

“Victoria? It’s Aiden McLoughlin, from the Cancer Research Center.”

Of course she knew who he was. He was all she thought about lately. She dreamt of that salt and pepper hair, spiked and gelled into soft peaks. “Yes of course, how are you?”

“Quite well, and you?”

Victoria sank into the car seat and looped her finger around a clump of hair. His voice fluttered through the phone like the sweet lullabies she sang to Andrew and Sara as children. She managed to block her humble nature and disclosed her meeting with Pearlie Zelman to him. The excitement still pulsed through her core.

“Why, that’s wonderful Victoria, you should feel very proud. I expressed to you how incredible you were. You must take her up on her offer, you have a lot to offer this world.”

Victoria squirmed at his continued accolades. It has been so long since she received praise for her achievements. Her body tingled under the skirt, too bad he couldn’t see for himself.

“Where are you now?” Aiden asked.

“Still sitting in the parking lot.”

Aiden chuckled. “Please, join me for lunch, I’d love to celebrate your accomplishment.”

Feeling as if she was on autopilot, she agreed.

Aiden sat across from her, twirling the ice in his glass of water with the straw. The cubes jiggled and clinked but his eyes never looked away from hers. The waitress arrived and coffee flowed as did their conversation. No loss of words, no silence. Aiden, a widow of three years, listened intently to Victoria while she shared tales of her thirty years of marriage.

Victoria glanced over her menu unable to decide what to order. Too nervous again to eat but the chicken salad with walnuts, grapes and avocado tempted her.

“So, what is your position at the hospital like, Victoria?”

“I’ve worked there for over fifteen years. I cover the cancer unit and CCU. I love my floors and the staff but Jean, my boss for the last two years, is condescending and demeaning.”

“How is that any way to work? She should be encouraging and supportive, bring out the best in you, use your impressive resources to her benefit.”

“She feels there’s no one better than her. We’re her puppets.”

“Does she realize your background? Your achievements and potential? She’s wasting talent. Why isn’t Ed pushing you to your potential? Does he support your efforts?”

Victoria’s neck and ears grew hot. She hid her face before the humiliation surfaced. He continued to inspire her when the waitress returned. Still unable to decide, she let Aiden order first.

“I’ll have the chicken salad with walnuts, grapes and avocado, please,” he said.

Victoria’s pulse accelerated. Too embarrassed to order the same thing, she chose something from the back corner of the menu.

The waitress returned with their sandwiches and Aiden thankfully turned the conversation away from her hollow job. “You’re on the Board of Directors at the Cancer Foundation. How did you venture into that?”

“Almost a year ago, we hired a new dietitian at the hospital. Catherine. It was her first job working in a hospital. She had three children shortly after she married but hadn’t worked in years. When she began she was so enthusiastic, passionate. I wanted to feel like that again. About my job, about my life.” Her mouth crooked down, as did her head.

Aiden gently placed his hand under her chin and lifted her head to face him. “Why so sad, Victoria? I notice there’s always a halting air about you, as if you’re afraid to free yourself completely.”

“No, not at all. I’m sorry.”

“No, really. What’s troubling you? I don’t like to see you upset, you have so much going for you.”

“Really, I’m fine. Just hungry I suppose.” She took a large bite out of her roast beef sandwich and then continued her story about how she met Noreen Emberton, the Chair of the Cancer Foundation, at a nutrition networking conference.

“I’m impressed again,” he said. “Tell me, when is this 10K race? I think I’d like to join.”

“No, really, you don’t have to.”

“I would love to. You’re running too?”

“Me? No, I can’t run.”

“Why not? We should train together, it would be fun. You never know what you’re capable of until you try.”

This was happening too fast. The lunch, the compliments, the encouragement. Now training for a race together? Suddenly she felt ill.

Victoria excused herself to the bathroom. Her watch informed her that she had left the magazine interview over an hour and a half ago. She pressed her hands against her stomach, the sandwich laid there like a boulder. What was she doing here? With him? Having lunch with a man she barely knew.

Just grabbing a bite and having a little chat. Yeah, right.

She rinsed her hands and returned to the table.

“I took the liberty of ordering us some dessert.” Victoria peered down and saw a blueberry cobbler, her favorite. “I even asked for a small scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side. I hope that’s not too much for a dietitian. I thought something with fruit would be appropriate.”

“It’s wonderful, truly. So thoughtful of you and yes, it’s actually one of my favorites.” Victoria’s cheeks glowed. A silly grin appeared on her face while she focused on Aiden’s strong features. She smiled at nothing, smiled at everything. His tongue licked a smidgen of sweet violet crumbles from the corner of his mouth. A morsel of blueberry stuck to his lip and Victoria found her finger wiping it away.

He flinched, as did she. Aiden touched the spot her finger just left. His chest rose and fell with each quickened breath. He leaned back as if to protect her from his thoughts.

“Thank you,” he said. “How silly I must have looked with that on my face.”

“No, actually you looked kind of cute.” Victoria gasped. What was she saying? She was acting like a child, a schoolgirl in a playground. She looked down at the dessert.

Aiden slanted toward her. His mouth separated, as if to speak, then closed. He grasped his fork instead and pierced the cobbler. Victoria’s fork clinked the bottom of the plate a moment later. Their utensils connected, intertwined, and Aiden immediately let go, dropping his fork on the plate. Victoria’s head shot up and the two examined each other, considering, suggesting, exposing.

Aiden accompanied Victoria to her car and then held the door for her to step in. She wanted to speak, say something witty, something as incredible as the way he made her feel during the past two hours. But her car door slammed shut, the sound denoted the inevitable end of their meeting. Victoria opened her window to provide one last good-bye.

“You know Victoria, if you weren’t married, I would have loved to take you out on a real date.”

Chapter 22
Heather

At one o’clock on Saturday, Heather left work on her lunch hour and drove to Dr. Silvatri’s office, a quick five-minute drive from the hospital. She eased open the main door, scanned the patient’s waiting room along with the receptionist area, but found both vacant. The knob on the door leading into the examination rooms rotated in her grasp and she peeked in.

After waiting an additional minute, she slipped into the corridor and inched her way down the hall. Had she made a mistake? He told her one o’clock. Was it today? Or Sunday? Would someone see her sneaking in?

Heather hesitated calling his name in case any employees lingered behind. She tiptoed down the hallway and with each glance into the unoccupied exam rooms, the shakiness in her limbs increased. Disinfectant and alcohol prep pads filled her nose, eliminating the sweet smell of her banana-cream body lotion. The deserted office, both eerie and unsettling, urged her to turn back.

She reached the final door and paused, took a deep breath and then slid her right foot ahead one last step. Heather arched her body forward inch by inch, and peered into the doorway. There, sat Silvatri, behind his desk with his feet propped on top, hands folded behind his head, and a smile extending clear across his face.

She shook her head. “You think you’re funny? You heard me come in, didn’t you?”

Silvatri summoned Heather to him with the curving of his finger.

She sauntered over to him and then he unlocked his legs from his desk and entwined them around her instead. She teetered from his restraint but only until he bolted up, grasped her head and drew it into him, parting her mouth with more intensity than before.

His hands clutched her shirt and freed the top button, then another. It was off and thrown to the floor in a wink. He stepped back, viewed her black lace bra with pink embroidery and the metallic thread weaved through it. His hands traveled from her waist and then under the lace on one side, while his mouth joined in, finding the soft flesh on the other.

Silvatri stopped, examined his desk, and then launched an immediate removal of his papers, frames, and books while Heather removed her red skirt. He twisted back and jarred to a halt. She fidgeted with the elastic on the top of her thigh highs attempting to remove them.

He lunged at Heather, prevented her from removing them and then ran his fingers across her thong, brushing the scallop-laced fringe that hung over the band. Silvatri’s breath heaved and his eyes shut tight, then unlocked to reveal cannons that sparked fire, thirst and his unquenchable appetite.

He grasped her shoulders, crushing them and smashed his lips onto hers, pushing Heather back with his mouth until she lay across his desk. His door remained wide-open. The hallway one left ajar as well. Her heart thundered knowing anyone could enter and hear them, see them, naked upon his desk.

Her bra and thong ripped from her, only the thigh highs remained. He unzipped his pants and lowered them to his knees. She had yet to see him completely naked, only his upper thighs revealed themselves to her each time. Heather wanted to see his perfect chest, his muscular stomach, his broad shoulders. His ass.

Silvatri stood on one side of the desk and tugged her body close to the edge so he could enter. She closed her eyes as he slid himself in. He hammered away and she lifted her legs up and rested them on his shoulders.

Thoughts waved in and out of her mind. The vision of her black blouse tossed to the ground on a stack of files. His eager eyes as he ripped off the thong with such yearning. The warmth of his mouth. The wide-open door and the thought of a misguided patient wandering in. The obvious bruises on her back she would acquire from the hard desk.

He pumped harder and moved his hands to her shoulders pushing her into him. She glided with him in sync – the perfect fit.

Heather enjoyed her escape. Although only sporadic moments like this existed, it became her diversion, lasting with her until their next encounter. Arguments with Lance and Jean became mere annoyances and she knew in the end she’d won. Let them yell, let them harass her. She discovered an amazing reward that the two of them could never take away from her.

He finished, bounced himself inside several more times, and let out the usual howl. Heather adored his sounds and roars. Lance’s silent romps made Heather feel like she was alone in the room, having sex with the mattress.

Silvatri pulled out and watched Heather lie there, unable to catch her breath. He hoisted up his pants and jerked his belt tight across his hips. He took a step back, sloped into the wall, brought his thumb up and dragged it across his lower lip. His eyes squinted, and he examined her, naked and arranged on his desk. Studied her as his breath continued to surge.

She could not move, could not get up, could not stop shaking. Silvatri pounded his fist into the wall and let out a grunt. He hobbled over and skimmed the bottom of his lip against hers. His tongue swept inside one final time. “I could fuck you all day, Heather.”

He boosted her up, gathered her belongings and handed them to her. The pile of clothes, overwhelming. Unable to figure out which direction the thong went, her stockings hung low, one by the calf, the other by the knee, and buttoning her shirt was impossible with trembling hands.

As she dressed, he sat in his chair inspecting her, his feet back on the desk, hands clasped behind his head. A glint of arrogance in his guise. His blue eyes ogled her, making her feel prized.

She fastened her last button, glad she completed the ordeal. He lurched out of his chair and kneeled before her. Silvatri lifted her skirt, grabbed her thigh and dug his teeth in. He wrapped his arms around her legs and pulled her down on the rug with him.

He kissed her feverishly, and unbuttoned her shirt again.

Chapter 23
Catherine

Catherine completed meal rounds on her floor and then called the diet clerks with multiple food preferences. She knew it annoyed them and increased their workload but the patients came first. Obtaining long lists of food requests made her feel wanted and appreciated.

She hung up the phone and her heart fluttered. The charming and handsome Dr. Mangle entered the unit. Everyone else had vacated the nurse’s station and the thought of being alone with him excited her. Would he finally acknowledge her? Would today be the day? But then claustrophobia consumed her. Please, someone drift in to alleviate the pressure. What would she talk about, her boring life compared to his glorious one? She loved hearing him speak about the wild parties at his home and vacations abroad.