Trifecta (12 page)

Jason nodded and shrugged.

"I see."  Vincent reached into his shirt pocket.  "Is it the showing or the lack of work?"

She wrapped her arms around herself and swallowed though it did nothing to moisten her throat.

"I have work." Jason's voice was wound tight, as if it wanted to break.

"Interesting."  He offered Jason a business card.  "If you want to talk about how long you've been blocked, or something other than commissioned work, I'm doing a showing at the Eaves in West Hollywood in two weeks.  An artist should only create what he or she is passionate about.  Then they don't have to try."

Jason took the card.

Vincent glanced at her and left.

After a few moments Jason turned to her.  "Are you ready for deli?"  He ripped the card in half and shoved the pieces in his pocket.

"Jase."  She went to reach for him.  

He caught her hand. 

"I think you're an amazing artist." 

"I think you're jaded."  He pulled her toward him, dipped his head down and stopped just short of her lips.

"I wish Russell were here."  She put her fingertips to his mouth.  Her attempt to help failed, and now he wouldn't kiss her because of their rule.

"Me too."  He kissed her fingers. "I'm can hardly wait to tell him you almost killed yourself by flinging yourself into the street for a purse."

No, she didn't help Jason, and she did almost kill herself in the quest for a handbag.  "I wish Russ could have snuck out of that meeting and joined us.  It would have been cool to go out all together."  Now she couldn't remember the last time the three of them did anything outside the house.  She was that self-centered.   All she did was come home and let these men tend her.  "Why don't we call it a day?"

"Sorry, no can do."  He reached down to the hem of her skirt once more.  "But I do think we need to make a pit stop before we see Dr. Dalton."

She pushed his hand away and followed him out.   The inevitable was here, and she still wasn't sure what they were doing.

Chapter Twelve

Russell looked up from his desk with enough time to watch Jason and Lauren zigzag through the cubicles towards his office.  He stood as they entered, filling up the small space. "What's going on?"  They were both here.  Both of them. He clenched his fist and forced himself to open it.  They had both been here hundreds of times.  Everything was fine.  He took a breath.

Lauren narrowed her eyes, jerked her arm away from Jason, and crossed her arms.

Jason pointed at him then pointed at himself.  "You and I need to talk about this."  He pointed to Lauren.

Lauren tapped her foot.  "I thought this was done."

"Weren't you on calls?"  He asked though he knew the answer.

Jason put both hands on his desk.  "I need to go to the bathroom.  With you."

"What happened?"  Russell swallowed and peeked out the door. No one was looking…yet.  He walked around the desk and hit his door closed.  "Maybe we should talk about it."

"He almost ruined a sale for me."  Lauren tattled first.  "I was talking to the doctor and he made a noise and tried to pull my skirt down.  The doctor almost got a different type of show if he would have yanked any harder."

"Why is she wearing a mini skirt to work?"  Jason motioned toward the hemline of Lauren's outfit.  "By the way, I can answer that question."

Lauren didn't appear any different.  Before he addressed his best friend, he held his finger up.  "Did you get the sale?"

"Yes, but only because I told the doc that I was taking Jason to get a refill for his tranquilizer and offered him a free syringe." She turned to Jason.

At the moment he needed medication to stop the headache that decided to make an appearance along with his two bedmates.  "What's the answer to the question?"

Jason straightened up and stared right at Lauren.  "Her job is pornography and she is the star."  With the words out, he held his arms up and backed away.

"How dare you!"  Lauren stalked toward him.  "So now I'm a porn star?  I thought you liked it that way."

"Shhh."  Russell wasn't sure if these walls were sound proof.

"Porn-og-ra-phy!" Jason clapped between syllables.  "How far would it have gone if I wasn't there, huh?"

Lauren opened her mouth.

"Wait!"  Russell pushed the button to lock the door and slipped in between them, putting one hand on Lauren and one on Jason.  "What's the answer to the question?"

They both faced him.

"I want you to finish out the afternoon on calls with our Lauren."  Jason tilted his head and smiled.  "You said you were busy for lunch, but it's after lunch and I need you."

He froze, careful before he made a move.  "How can Lauren take both of us?" He exhaled and leaned against the desk.

"Our next stop is Dr. Dalton's." Jason crossed his arms.

Wait.
  He stood again. Dr. Dalton.  Dr. Fix Your Face.  Lauren usually swooned when he was mentioned, or on television, or the Internet, or a magazine.  "Dr. Dalton?" 

With one eye narrowed, Jason nodded.  "Dr. Dalton."

Lauren shifted her weight from one foot to the other and turned to the floor. 

She didn't want him to go.  Of course, up until five seconds ago, he didn't want to go.  Now he didn't know what he wanted, except he wanted Lauren to want him to go.  "Lauren?"

Suddenly, she raised her head. "Yes, dear Russell, come with us to Dr. Dalton's."  She went to him, pressed her body to his, wrapped her arms around his neck and connected their lips.

She opened her mouth and searched out his tongue, sucking on it, causing him to hold her tighter and moan.  Right now he knew what he wanted.

As fast as she kissed him, she pushed him back.  "Is that the kiss of a porn star?"  She licked her lips and let her gaze travel down to the front of his pants. 

He glanced over at Jason. 

"Trust me on this one."  Jason shoved his hands in his pockets. 

"That's the last one either of you will get until I get a real apology. If you are so worried why don't you come with me?"  She held her head high, spun on her heel and left. 

"Okay."  He motioned for Jason to go ahead.  

Jason stopped in front of him.  "It would have been nice if the three of us would have gone to lunch today."

"I got called into a meeting."  He turned away from Jason to grab his suit jacket.

"That's how you can just take off now." 

He arched his back at Jason's words.  "I'm not in a meeting now."

"I suppose Lauren's work is safe, what could happen there?" 

Russell faced him.  "Your jealousy brought you here.  Lauren didn't want us to go."

"Jealousy doesn't live here."  Jason motioned toward himself.  "Neither does embarrassment."

"Maybe we should get going, we don’t want to make her late."  He walked away.  Yes, work was safe, and he needed to see the man Lauren didn't want them to meet.  More importantly, no way would he be called on the carpet by the man who knew him better than anyone.  Everything was a mess.

***

The moment the elevator opened, Jason knew this wasn't the typical doctor's office.   

First, this doctor's practice took up the whole floor.  Second, the patients in the waiting room didn't appear to be sick at all, in fact everyone there seemed to have stepped directly off a runway.  Third, the office wasn't an office.  It was a showcase, from the marble walls and floors to the planned lighting and furniture.  Everything planned to provide a perfect background for every masterpiece in the place, from the art to the patients.

After some hushed whispers to the front office staff, Lauren and the two of them tiptoed to the doctor's private office. 

Maybe Russell was right.  They shouldn't have come here, shouldn't have been privy to their competition.

However, it wasn't the books or degrees that told the tale of Dr. Dalton.  Plenty of men earned their M.D.

It was the art.

Art connoisseurs came in only three flavors.  Those who could both afford and love the art, those who loved the art but couldn't afford it, and those who cared less about the art but wanted to own it.

As they sat in the famous and infamous office of Dr. Dalton, Jason had no doubt which type of art connoisseur the good doctor was, with his mix of styles and fashionable choices.  The selection here was eclectic, but deliberate.  Designed both for maximum impact and impression, not because the art was appreciated.

He swung his leg and rocked back and forth in the red leather chair waiting for the appearance of Lauren's number one account. 

"Stop fidgeting."  Lauren crossed her legs and spun her chair toward the desk.

Her skirt rode up on her leg, her bare leg.  "Her skirt is too short.

             
She squirmed in her chair causing the skirt to rise even higher.

"Lauren." 

Russell shook his head.  He hadn't said a word since they left.   

"Say something."  Jason motioned toward his friend.  The man was going to have to face a lot of things if he wanted this to work, including this doctor and their situation.

Russell opened his mouth

Jason nodded. Now Lauren would get it from the king of sanity.

"How can anyone even speak when we are in the presence of such beauty?"

Saved by the interruption, Russell shut his mouth.

They were finally face to face with who had to be Dr. Dalton, complete with the white doctor's coat, various medical instruments in his pockets, and a toothpaste smile.

For exactly one second he held out hope that this man may not be Dr. Dalton.

Exactly one second later his hope was gone, exactly like a wrinkle in this office.

"Doctor Dalton."

Jason whipped back around toward Lauren.  Her voice was low, both breathy and breathless. He knew that voice.  That voice belonged to him and to Russell.  It was the voice she used when she wanted something, namely them, and she was willingly giving it to this Dr. Dalton.

"Lauren."  He held his arms out.

Unlike the playful hugs he watched Lauren give to everyone from doctors to janitors throughout the day, this hug was different.

Along with the voice that was only for him and Russell, she also had their look, right down to her flushed cheeks and plump, ripe lips.  She pushed herself out of the chair and didn't jump, skip or dash to the recipient.  Instead, she stood up straight, and with only one side of her mouth curling up in a smile walked straight into his arms.

She leaned into him while he wrapped his arms around her. 

Jason moved to the edge of his seat, and glanced at Russell.  The man hadn't moved.

Dr. Dalton and held her at arm’s length.  "Don't you love me anymore?"

Jason grabbed the arms of the chair.  How could Russell sit there and do nothing?  This man way too charming.

"Of course I love you."  She patted him.

He knew pickup lines.  In fact, he was both the recipient and giver of many a line.  Was Lauren flirting in front of them?

"Then why so long since you've been here?  What if I needed to place an order?"  The doctor licked his lips.

"I'm only a phone call away.  You can call me anytime."  She purred her answer.

"Look up."  The doctor took her face in his hand and moved her side to side as he seemed to study her.

Jason almost fell out of his seat, but Russell finally reacted by crossing his arms.  At least it was something.

"Just about perfect." The doctor took a long Q-tip out of his pocket and pressed it to her face.  "When are you going to let me add the final touch?  Let me make amazing, magnificent."

All day he was wound up, as if someone shoved a key in his back and turned it every time Lauren hugged someone, or showed too much leg.  The art gallery only amped up his energy.  But this was it.  No one would call her amazing and then allude to her looks not being perfect.  This man may be a doctor, but he was an artist, and he knew beauty. "Excuse me!"  The chair tilted back when he stood.

Russell caught the chair before it hit the floor, and Lauren spun toward him with her mouth open as if she were going to start yelling.

"The front told me you were training."  The doctor lifted his chin toward them but kept his hand on her back.

"Lauren doesn't need any plastic surgery."  He stepped forward. 

"Jason!"  She went into her full 'dare to say another word stance' complete with her hands on her hips and one foot jutted out.

He moved away from Lauren and held his hand out to him.  "I don't think she needs plastic surgery either." 

Lauren widened her eyes at him.

As if his hand had an anvil weighing it down, it pained him to raise it and shake this man's hand, but he knew he better if he ever wanted to make up with Lauren.  He swore the man's hand was wet, clammy, cold and untrustworthy. 

"Dr. Dalton."  He nodded and shook Russell's hand.

"Russell."  Russell glanced down at the palm of his hand when the doctor let go.  At least Jason knew it wasn't only him.

"I didn't mean to interrupt your day."  Lauren focused her attention on Dr. Douche.

"Place my usual order, and double whatever you need to get my syringes to help your quota out, then when we're in Vegas you can take me out with that chunky commission check."  He winked.

Vegas?  He didn't recall any Vegas activities.

"Thank you."  She gave the man another hug. 

"Don't be such a stranger."  He nodded at the two of them.  "Watch her, she's the best."  With that he backed out of the room and left.

"Let's go." Lauren looked between them, pressed her lips together and stormed away.

They both followed and managed to slip into the elevator with her.

She crossed her arms and waited.

One of them needed to say something.  He hit Russell in the shoulder.

Russell cleared his throat.  "I have to admit I didn't understand how personal your job really was until now."

Personal?  He leaned back until his back hit the wall of the elevator.  Personal?  That's what Russell was going to call it.  Maybe his best friend wasn't as into this as he thought.

"What does that mean?"  She put her hands on her hips.

Russell glanced back at him.  "What I meant is that there is a lot of closeness in your business relationships."

There were three times where Jason remembered being thankful for Russell's analytical and calm mind.  Well, there were many times, but three stood out in this moment in the elevator. 

The first one was in math class in seventh grade where Russell spent five hours explaining pre-algebra to him.  He never got upset but he never wavered.  Russell only continued to repeat himself until Jason understood.  The second time was in college where Russell somehow, someway talked his professor into extending the deadline for the term paper.