Immortally Yours (3 page)

The doctor’s face took on a strange expression and he
adjusted his position in his seat. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I think you
should see me a little more often than weekly. Perhaps three times a week to
start.”

She rolled her eyes. “Terrific. I want to kill myself and
you want to torture me.”

“Torture you? How?”

“By spending more time on this friggin’ couch, looking
across the coffee table at your annoyingly perfect face and forking over a
hundred dollars an hour to do it.”

Dr. Brayer leaned one elbow on his armrest and set his jaw
into his cupped hand. He said nothing. He simply stared at her.

“What’s the matter, doc? No snappy comeback?”

“I’m trying to help you, Lizette. If that’s not what you
want, then what do you suggest I do?”

She shrugged. “Go look in your shrink’s manual. I’m sure
there’s some kind of advice in there for dealing with eternally pissed-off
patients like me.”

“There’s no manual and there’s no one quite like you,
either. Even though there are other immortals, they generally know how they
became that way and how to manage… You know what? I’d like to increase the
dosage of your medication.”

“Is that all you can do? Write a prescription?”

“It might help.”

“Un-fucking-believable.”

“We could possibly work out payments on a sliding scale…”

But it was too late. She was on her way out the door.

Fortunately, women get bolder as they get older.

Sister Nancy Schreck

Colin had both looked forward to and dreaded their next
meeting. Nothing turned him off like a belligerent patient but no one turned
him on like Lizette. She had marched out of his office one day and called to
set up another appointment the next. And he’d thought no one could surprise him
anymore. Well, it was time to face whatever she’d do today.

“Come in, Lizette.”

Why did she have to look like an ethereal pin-up girl each
time he saw her? His cock started to grow. On Monday she had resembled a
goddess of the sea, her long, damp hair hanging in wavy rivulets, dripping
water onto her breasts. She had been wearing a silver trench coat.

Today, her soft halo of platinum-blonde curls framed her
heart-shaped face and the warmth of a sunny day meant everyone was shedding
extra layers of clothing. She wore a figure-hugging pink top with a short black
skirt over her perfect legs.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“Maybe. At least I don’t feel like choking someone for no
reason.”

“That’s a start.” He smiled and hoped a better session was
in the offing as they settled into place.

Lizette fixed her bright blue eyes on him. “Can I ask you
something?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes. Of course.”
Get your mind out of the
gutter and concentrate on your patient, Brayer.

“If you were in my position, what would you do?”

Colin took a moment to think about it. “That’s a good
question. I imagine I’d take stock of myself, look at what opportunities might
be realistic and try to pursue something meaningful and lucrative. That way,
even if I were stuck on earth for a seemingly unlimited number of years, I’d be
a lot happier about it. I’d also try to be patient with myself and learn new
technology slowly rather than giving up altogether.”

She nodded. “That makes sense.” She leaned toward him and
rested her forearms on her knees. Her scoop neck dipped just low enough to
reveal her creamy white cleavage.

Shit. I wish she’d stop making my mouth water.

“So how would you go about finding something lucrative and
meaningful?”

He stared at the door while trying not to think of her lush
curves. “Well, there are a few things you could do. Certain tests can help
determine what sort of careers you might enjoy. I’m not saying you’d have to
get a job in any of those areas, but it may point toward volunteer work you’d
like or an interesting hobby that might lead to some income.” He had to admire
her survival skills up to this point. The woman had lived in a time when
courtesan was a legitimate profession and yet she had adapted to modern life by
creating a product and selling it. She had even been business savvy enough to
maintain a low-profile presence in the company, thereby continuing to earn a
share of the profits. She had brains and guts. She just needed to find a new
way to use those attributes.

“Great,” she said, perking up. “How can I get one of those
tests?”

“I imagine you could start with vocational centers and
career counselors. You’ll probably find some in the Yellow Pages. Ask if they
offer Meyers-Briggs testing specific to career compatibility.”

She cocked her head. “What’s that?”

“A personality test named after the men who created it.”

“Does it cost a hundred dollars an hour?”

Colin wanted to chuckle, but it wasn’t funny. How
frustrating to manage a limited income when one couldn’t get a good-paying job.
And she needed to support herself forever! The role of a kept woman may have
worked in the past, but those days were almost gone.

An odd thought crossed his mind. If he weren’t treating her,
would he be able to set her up and “keep” her in exchange for hot, willing,
anytime-he-wanted-it sex? She’d probably go for it. The erection that had been
growing surged another inch.
No, another sugar daddy is not what she needs.
He
adjusted in his chair to hide the tent in his pants.

Her sky-blue eyes stared at him. “Well?”

Uh-oh.
What had she asked him? Had he gone off into
his own private land of nasty sexual thoughts and fantasies? If so, for how
long?

“Um… Well, what?”

“Are those counselors expensive? Because I can’t afford too
many more of these sessions and then add some other counseling too.”

“Oh, not at all.” He cleared his throat. “Career counselors
aren’t usually doctors, so they cost much less. Is my fee a hardship? Because
if it is, I could see about a payment plan.”

She waved away his suggestion. “No, forget it. Paying longer
won’t help. I can’t die my way out of debt. But I won’t be coming much longer.
Just knowing I’m not alone and that I could possibly find others like me…well,
that in itself is a big help.”

“How about your medication?” he asked, anxious about the
thought of her leaving. “You’ll still need me to prescribe—”

“No, I won’t. I stopped taking it.”

“You did? Why?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t need it.”

“You should really let me be the judge of that. If you feel
like changing your medication dosage or altering my recommendations, let me
know first. I can’t keep track of how it’s working if I don’t know how you’re
taking it.”

“But that’s just it. I’m not taking it, so I don’t need to
tell you anything. And if I go to the career counselor and find some kind of
meaningful activity, I won’t need you at all.”

Panic set in as the words
I won’t need you at all
echoed in his head. “Well, I’d like to see you a little longer to be sure
you’re going to be all right. Perhaps you can wait until after the career
counseling and I can give you some input as to which activities might be
practical in today’s world.”

“Can’t the career counselor do that? I mean, they’re
counselors too, aren’t they? And that’s probably part of what they do.”

“Are you concerned about the money? Because if you are,
there’s one way we can continue to see each other—maybe after work some night.”
Now he was getting desperate. He hoped she wouldn’t notice. Unfortunately, heat
was rising along his neck.

She glanced up at him coquettishly. “Doctor, is there
something you’re trying to say?”

He cleared his throat and came out with it. “Would you be
interested in going out to dinner with me?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

Busted.
“Well, if you’re going to terminate treatment
anyway and if you’d like it to be a date, it can be a date. I won’t be able to
be your doctor after that but I might be a good friend to have. I can help you
find interesting things to do in the outside world—and because I already know
you’re immortal, you don’t need to hide your secret from me.”

She sighed. “Mmm… I suppose so.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I miss the days of romance. A gentleman would make me feel
as if he enjoyed my company and longed for the day when he could see me again.”

“I see. Too logical. Impersonal. That’s the doctor in me.”

“Care to show me what else is in you?”

Despite his better judgment, he had developed feelings for
her. Not only did she want to hear it, he needed to admit it to himself and
deal with it. Colin rose, crossed to her quickly, pulled her up from her seat
and kissed her with the passion he had been trying to contain. He cupped her
head and crushed her body to his until she melted into him. She returned his
passion, opening her mouth until their tongues met. He knew he was showing her
what she did to him, since his erection pulsed against her abdomen. He didn’t
care. She was right. He needed to show her more than cold common sense, and
logic had left the building.

Right now, simply holding her and sliding their tongues
against the inside of each other’s mouths mattered. Her hands ignited a trail
of fire as they caressed his back and excitement sparked his imagination while
he visualized stroking her soft skin.

When he finally let her go, she smiled at him. “Yes, good
sir. Dinner would be lovely.”

* * * * *

Lizette had made an appointment and talked about careers at
a place advertised in the phone book. The results had only confused her more,
so she looked forward to discussing it with Dr. Brayer—Colin. She had to
remember to call him Colin from now on. He was due to pick her up for dinner
soon and she still hadn’t decided what to wear.

Staring at her small closet, she studied her wardrobe. Not
knowing where he was taking her, she couldn’t decide how to dress.

“Well,” she said out loud, “if I wear jeans and a t-shirt,
he’s apt to take me to a cheap family restaurant. On the other hand, if I wear my
little black dress…hmmm. I guess I’ll dress for the kind of date I want.”

She grabbed the dress and her silver pumps from the closet,
pulled some hosiery out of her dresser drawer and dressed quickly, hoping for
at least a four-star restaurant. After all, the three hundred dollars she had
already given him should cover that.

Not to say she was cheap, but remembering when a meal and
ale at a London tavern cost less than a shilling and a typical family’s wages
might be forty pounds per year…she could do the math. Meals cost more these
days but he could afford it.

By the time the doorbell rang, Lizette was dressed, her hair
was perfect and she looked like a million bucks—which made her a bargain at
whatever the meal cost.

She opened the door to—if possible—an even
handsomer-than-usual Colin dressed in business casual attire. Blue shirt, gray
slacks.

His eyes bugged out. “Lizette! You look…wow.”

“Thank you. You look ‘wow’ too, Dr. Bray—er, Colin. But I’m
afraid I overdressed. Shall I change?” she asked innocently.

“Huh? No! Don’t change a thing. I have a jacket and tie in
the car. I didn’t make reservations but since it’s a weeknight it shouldn’t be
too hard to find a decent seat in a nice restaurant. Is there any place in
particular you’d like to go?”

“Well, I’ve never been up in that Space Needle thing. I
think there’s a restaurant up there, no?”

“Uh, yes. There is. They usually require reservations but I
can check to see if they can squeeze us in.”

He whipped out his cell phone and dialed information for the
number. With only a short wait, he had secured a table. Apparently the
restaurant had a number of cancellations due to the miserable flu spreading
throughout the city.

She was curious to see what kind of car Colin drove and was
surprised when he escorted her to an SUV. He held the door open for her before
he jogged around to the other side and let himself in.

“Why do you drive such a large car? I hope you didn’t fail
to mention having a family.”

He looked horrified and shook his head. “No. I just like the
outdoors and four-wheel drive helps me get places I wouldn’t normally be able
to reach. Rock faces, hiking trails—”

She gasped. “You rock climb?”

“Among other things.”

“Like what?”

“Let’s see. I’ve gone bungee jumping—not very fond of
that—hang gliding, base jumping, mountain climbing and sky diving—now
that’s
a thrill I could get addicted to.”

“
Mon dieu
!”

He smiled over at her. “Exactly.”

Excited, she asked, “Do you speak French?”

“Not really. I speak German and Spanish but I know only a
few words in French and none of them are nice.”

She smiled. “Pardon my French, eh?”

“Something like that. So, how did the career testing go?”

“Changing the subject?”

“Not really. I’m just intensely curious. We can wait until
dinner to discuss it if you like.”

“No, that’s all right. But I’m confused why you would send
me there. They seemed to want me to sign up for classes and prepare me for a
job.”

“Where did you go?”

“A place called a vocational-technical training center. The
ad said they did career counseling and it was free.”

Even watching him in profile, she thought Colin frowned.
“I’m afraid that wasn’t what I meant. Maybe we can simply talk about your
talents and interests over dinner and come up with some ideas.”

“Are you going to charge me for that?”

He glanced at her quickly. “Of course not. Friends don’t
charge each other for their opinions. Why would you think that?”

She shrugged.

“This is a date, Lizette. I’m not going to charge you for
anything. Unless you’re a liberated woman and want to pay for half of
everything but even then I’d try to talk you out of it.”

“No, thank you. I haven’t been liberated since the French
Revolution.”

He chuckled. “Then don’t worry about paying me for my
opinions. And by the way, I’ll only be offering you my ideas. I’m not an expert
as far as career placement goes, so don’t be upset with me if you don’t like my
suggestions.”

* * * * *

Lizette hoped that dinner would give her a chance to learn a
little more about where to find these other immortals. Colin’s desire to give
her life meaning was nice and everything, but she still preferred her hidden
agenda. Her priorities, in order, were to find other immortals to play with,
maybe add meaning to her life and find a way to end her miserable existence if
neither of those two worked out.

After the waiter had taken their orders, she said, “So, you
were going to tell me about what you’d do if you were in my shoes.”

“I was?”

She shrugged.

“Before I suggest anything, I need to know more about you.
What are your likes and dislikes?”

“Just like that? You want me to name all of my likes and
dislikes?”

“Start with the ones that pop into your head first.”

“You sound like Freud.”

“Have you studied psychology?”

“No. But I had dinner with him one night.”

Colin’s jaw almost hit the table. “You—you did? What was he
like?”