I'll Be Seeing You Page 3

  "He likes you,” Laura sings, taking my hands and dancing me around the room, chanting the three words over and over. I smile with the hope that she may be right.

  "Now, tell me about this doctor guy," I say, sitting down next to each other.

  “His name is Jessie Montgomery, and he works at that Davis eye place."

  "The Davis Institute?" I ask, correcting her.

  "Yeah, that's it. Anyway, it was like magic. We couldn't quit staring at each other. That other doctor that was with him? God, he was hot, too, but Jessie really does it for me. Anyway, he asked me out this weekend, but I had to turn him down. He said he would call me next week."

  I recall my conversation with Matthew on the phone and he said something to Jess about needing to take my call.

  "Laura, the guy that was with Jessie? That's my mystery man."

  "Shut. Up," she yells. "Are you saying you’re meeting Matthew Davis for coffee tomorrow? Because Jessie said he was Matthew Davis, the founder of the clinic. Joy, he is stunning."

  "Do I need to be nervous?" I ask, about ready to bite off what little nails I have.

  "No. If Dr. Davis wants to date you, be honored because he is beyond handsome. I bet he will let you see him … ask him." I can’t believe she said all that seemingly in one breath. “And your mystery man is drop dead gorgeous.”

  "What about this Dr. Montgomery?” I ask, waiting for her answer.

  After not receiving a response and sensing something is heavily on her mind, I ask again.

  "What is it, Laura?"

  "I don't want to go away this weekend,” she finally answers. “I had this … connection with Jessie and now —”

  "You’re serious, aren't you?" I hold out my hand, and she takes it immediately.

  "I’m very serious. I just don't know if I should get in touch with him now. I would love to see him this weekend. He said he would call me next week."

  "Well, I do have the number to the clinic. Maybe you can call him and tell him your plans have changed.”

  “Give me the number, and I'll call him now."

  Giving her the card Matthew gave me, Laura dials the number.

  "Hello, this is Laura Reed, is Dr. Montgomery available please?" She whispers to tell me that his secretary is getting him. I lean in when she puts the phone next to my ear.

  "Laura?" he answers, surprised to hear from her.

  "Hello, Jessie, so you remember me?" I stifle a giggle when he shouts over the phone.

  "Hell yes, I remember you. How could I forget?" he answers, excitedly.

  "Well, I wanted to let you know that I've had a change of plans this weekend and was wondering if you still wanted to get together." He shouts again causing me to pull my ear away.

  "Absolutely," he replies through a chuckle. He has a nice laugh and there’s sincerity in his voice.

  “Perfect. Call me Saturday morning, and I’ll tell you where to pick me up. We’ll go from there." Laura grabs my hand and squeezes it in a death grip.

  “I’m looking forward to it," he tells her before he hangs up. As soon as Laura ends the call, I rub the blood back into my hand.

  "There. That wasn't so hard, was it?" I say to her as she begins jumping up and down squealing. "Don’t forget, you still have to break the news to your date in Vancouver," I remind her.

  “I'll go back to my office and do that. I don’t need you hearing how creative I’ll be just to get out of it. Thanks for all your help, babe," she says, kissing my cheek.

  Drop dead gorgeous, huh? I don't even know what that means. I only know about the heart and soul. Dr. Davis has a good heart. It takes a special person helping people to see and get through tragedies.

  ~.~

  ‘Wednesday … Wednesday. What appointments do I have this morning?’ I ask myself, mentally scrolling through my calendar. Krista’s going to have to make sure she doesn't schedule any appointments between nine-thirty and eleven-thirty from here on out. I have to be available for what could possibly be a standing coffee date.

  Stepping into the shower, the rain head directly above me streams over my face. My head sags forward and my body finally relaxes. Closing my eyes tight, trying to get her image, her smile, her laugh out of my mind, but it doesn't work. More visions of her enter my head and if she knew she was the star of my shower fantasy this morning, she probably wouldn't speak to me again.

  Drying myself, I look in the mirror to shave but am too lazy this morning. Besides, I hear the girls like it. Even wet, my hair has a mind of its own so I work a small amount of gel into the unruly mop, just to give it some sort of order. It didn't work yesterday, and it isn’t working today. After splashing on my favorite cologne, I make my way to my walk-in closet. Laughing at myself because I have so many suits that I’ve had to color coordinate them. Stepping into a pair of boxer briefs, I select a white shirt, black Armani suit, deep purple tie, and black tie up shoes. I step back and give myself one last inspection. The humor out of all of this primping is that she can't even see the effort I'm putting forth to look nice for her. Looking and feeling good for her is important though.

  In the kitchen, I drop a K-cup in the Keurig before throwing a bagel in the toaster. Smiling as a reminder of meeting Joy at nine-thirty flashes into my head, I check my watch again. -It’s going to be a long morning but at least I have a seven-thirty appointment to occupy my mind until we meet.

  ~.~

  "Come on, Matthew, come out with me Friday. Those girls are a package deal, man. One won't come home with me unless the other gets some, so I need you to keep the other occupied." Jessie whines, following me through the automatic sliding doors leading inside the Institute's lobby.

  "I suppose you want me to fuck her in the same room with you?" I say looking around the lobby, making sure no one heard that. I nod good morning to Eugene, who mans the security desk, and walk to the elevators.

  "Hey, if that floats your boat, sure," he replies smugly.

  "Jess, listen, I'm not into that right now. I really like this girl. I mean like, really like her. She's a good girl, and I’m not going to mess this up before it gets started," I explain stepping into the elevator, pushing the button for the tenth floor.

  "Okay, okay. Oh, well, it's all right. Laura called and said that her plans had changed this weekend anyway. She wants to hook up on Saturday, so maybe I can tap that instead." Listening to him talk like this is disgusting, and I wonder how these women put up with it.

  "Jessie, do you think Laura would let you 'tap that' if she heard how you were talking about her? You make me sick listening how you regard the female species." He really does repulse me sometimes, and this is one of those times.

  Jess follows me into my office, and wanting to change the subject, I jump into the subject of the woman we will be meeting with this morning.

  Peggy Miller suffered abuse from her husband for years, and then a few years ago, he hit her on the side of the head with a baseball bat. After a year of recovery, her eyesight never returned. We will be assessing her to see if she is permanently blind.

  Peggy arrives on time for her seven-thirty appointment and after we go through her history, she begins to ask us some tough questions of her own. She came prepared that's for sure.

  "How is it that you opened the institute here, Dr. Davis?" she asks pointedly.

  "Well, a little history about myself first, my mother and father are both physicians. Cardiac surgeons, more specifically. My mother specializes in pediatrics. So, I have a lot of medical experience running through my family. I attended Harvard and Johns Hopkins and started my education in cardiology then later took a special interest in optic neuropathy. I rather enjoy fixing sight and with a small inheritance from my grandfather, I put that money to use by financing this institute that not only is a respected surgical center, but an educational institute as well. Here, we assist the visually impaired to learn Braille, life adjustment, among other areas of educating the blind." I stop and look at Jessie.

  "Dr. Mont
gomery here has been my friend since we were children. We attended the same schools, and once I decided to open this institute, I approached him with an offer to run his practice here. The rest is history."

  After our consultation and examination, it’s determined that her damage is in fact repairable, and we refer her to the scheduling team to complete the paperwork.

  "Okay, I'm going for coffee, Krista. I'll be back for my eleven-thirty," I say heading toward the elevator.

  After walking through the doors that lead outside, I run across the street opposite of the café so that I can see her through the window. She looks more beautiful today than ever. Her hair is up in a sexy mess held together with a clip. She’s wearing a pale yellow leather jacket, almost the color of butter. The color looks good on her. She’s reading. or trying to read, but every time someone enters or exits the cafe she stops, and after a few moments, she goes back to her book. She's waiting for me, and that pleases me immensely.

  Looking in both directions, I run across the street and open the door, deliberately looking to see her reaction. She lifts her head from her book, and a faint smile reaches her lips. She takes a deep breath, inhaling my scent, just like she did yesterday. What’s intriguing is how she keeps her sensory perception to herself. She’s adapted perfectly to the world around her, and I have a newfound admiration for her.

  "Good morning, Dr. Davis. Here is your double espresso with a dollop. Is there anything else I can get for you?" Myra asks, taking the twenty-dollar bill off the counter.

  "Yes, I'd like a lemon poppy seed muffin with two plates please," I reply, looking back at Joy who is putting her book away. Sneaking a glance at Conrad, he’s watching me with his head raised.

  Walking over to her table, I set my cup and muffin down across from her.

  "Good morning, Conrad. I have a treat for you," I say, bending down to pet him. Leaning in, I whisper, "I hope this doesn't prevent you from your girl time again tonight. If it does, then maybe you can come to my place for some male bonding. I have every sports channel known to man. Girls do not know about these because girls have cooties. Well, all except that girl right there, I don't think she has cooties, do you?" I look up into smiling eyes, "Do you know her?" He licks my face, "You do? Well maybe you can put in a good word for me or something." He’s panting as I scratch behind his ears, "You will? Terrific. Well, it was good chatting with you, Conrad," I say patting his head as I stand up.

  "Oh! Good morning, Ms. Johnson." I grin at the beautiful smile she has for me. "I didn't see you sitting there. I was visiting with my new friend, Conrad, here."

  "Why, good morning, Dr. Davis, I didn't see you either," she giggles. "That's the first time I've ever used that line," she says, laughing now. It's such a beautiful sound.

  "Good one," I reply, chuckling and taking a seat across from her.

  "I must say you are looking particularly lovely in yellow today. It's a flattering color on you," I compliment, sipping my espresso.

  "Thank you. Black looks good on you as well," she says with a saucy grin.

  "What? Wait? How did you know?" I stammer, shocked at her accuracy.

  "Really? You're wearing black today? It was just a wild guess," she laughs again. I join her shaking my head.

  "Your senses are sharp, Joy, but you had me freaked out there a little bit on that one," I declare, reaching for the muffin.

  "I have a lemon poppy seed muffin to share with you. Here," I say, scooting the plate in front of her.

  "Why, thank you, Dr. Davis." I watch her reach with accurate precision for the plate. She feels for the muffin, breaks a small piece off, and places the morsel between her pink lips.

  "So, Doctor," she begins, chewing. "Save any lives today?"

  "Well, I guess I did if you were to ask her," I boast, recalling my consultation this morning. "I saw a patient this morning to see if she qualified for surgery and it turned out she does, so I will be doing the surgery in two weeks," I say, watching as she breaks another piece of the muffin.

  "That's wonderful, Matthew. I'm happy for her," she says wistfully. Before I can ask her about her own medical history, she changes the subject quickly.

  "I’m starting a new story today. It sounds intriguing. It's about a woman who drives through a small town, meets and falls in love with a rancher that’s hiding a secret. It's been written in a series of four books, so it should be a fun project."

  Trying to keep my attention on what she’s saying, I sense that she doesn’t want to talk about her medical history right now, so I go with her change of subject.

  "Matthew?"

  "Hmmm?" I reply

  "You still with me?"

  "Yes. Yes, I am. Sorry,” I say, shaking my head, bringing myself back to the present. “Hey, Joy, I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me on Saturday night." There. I did it. Just like that.

  "I… I … I can't," she says as she twists in her chair like she's getting ready to leave but doesn't. Panic has set in across her face.

  "Did I upset you?" I ask sitting up higher in my seat.

  "No, I just… I …" she stammers again.

  "You what? You don't eat?"

  "Of course I eat, silly," she giggles. "It’s just — I don't really date."

  "Oh. Well, that does pose a problem then, doesn't it?" I sit back and rub my chin trying to figure out how to get around the 'not dating' thing. "All right, why don't we do this? You buy," I suggest sarcastically and can’t help but join her when she bursts out laughing. She’s twisting her hands, obviously wanting to say something, but she’s preventing herself, either that or she is scared to death.

  "Joy?"

  "Matthew, I haven't dated anyone since I was nineteen. You of all people know how difficult it is for someone like me. Dining in public is a difficult thing for me. There's nothing like putting my fingers in my mashed potatoes or trying to eat my consommé with a fork," she jokes. My heart is aching for her right now.

  "Hey," I say, reaching over to take her hand in mine. She closes her eyes at my touch. "Do you think I would let you falter? Do you think I would ask you out and not be willing to take care of you?" I visualize taking each and every finger, licking off those mashed potatoes for her.

  "Um… I…I don't expect you to take care of me, Matthew. I just have this aversion to public humiliation. I had too much of it as a teen," she confesses.

  "Is that your only reason?" I ask, watching her closely. Lord, I hope she doesn't start crying. If I saw tears coming out of those eyes, I couldn’t take it. She slowly starts shaking her head.

  "What's the real reason?" Looking down, I see Conrad come out from under the table to sit facing her. Reaching down to pet him, I reassure him that his human is all right, and but he growls at me anyway. Joy did say he was fiercely protective. He even protects her when she’s emotional and that pleases me.

  "I haven't dated in a long time, Matthew. I've only ever had one boyfriend, and he didn't stick around long enough to get to know me." Her eyes look down as she begins to destroy her nails.

  "I don't want to take no for an answer, Joy. Funny that you say you might stick your hands in your potatoes when I have dribbled more gravy down my tie than you could ever imagine.” My heart soars when I hear her tinkling giggle again. “I wish you would trust me," I whisper, placing my hand over hers.

  "I do, Matthew. I do trust you," she replies quietly.

  "Then say yes. Please?"

  CHAPTER THREE

  Continuing to watch her, it’s obvious she’s uncomfortable.

  "Perhaps I should go. I don't like seeing you like this." Frustrated, I make a move to leave.

  "No!” she nearly shouts, her hand reaching out to stop me. “Please, don't go, Matthew. I'm sorry. It's just …” She takes a deep breath and calms herself before speaking again. “Okay — when I was a young girl in school, I met a boy." She pauses and nervously licks her bottom lip, pulling it in between her teeth. "He worked at the school and was sighted. He follow
ed me everywhere and became persistent in asking me out. When I finally agreed, that wasn't good enough. He wanted more," she explains, sadness etched on her face.

  My heart aches for her as I listen to her relive this period of her life.

  "We dated for quite a while, with him telling me he loved me, how he wouldn't leave me, and wanting to take care of me for the rest of my life. He won me over, and I thought I was in love with him. But every time we were alone in a room, he pushed for more." She pauses again, taking another deep breath and slowly releasing it. "I had no mother to guide me through my teen years. No woman figure at all, really, to educate me. He’d get angry at me when I pushed away his advances. His angry persistence frightened me. Anyway, it had been about eight months into our relationship when he tried one last time. That night, his anger reached a new level when he wanted to become physical. He threw me down on my bed and forced himself on me until I screamed. Kelly, my former guide dog, attacked him and pulled him off me. He was so mad and yelled at me saying he had wasted eight months of his life trying to get in my pants and fucking me was all he really wanted to do anyway.” I inwardly grin when she whispers that word, even though it’s wrong of me. She blushes. I can see the subject is still painful for her when the tears come.

  "I'm sorry, Joy," I say, reaching out for her hand. "There are real assholes out there. Please trust me when I say I'm not one of them. My friend, on the other hand, is another matter," I jest, trying to lighten her dark mood.

  "What?" she exclaims, sniffing into the back of her hand. "Do you mean Jess? The friend you had lunch with yesterday?" she asks, anxiously.

  "Yes. How do you know about him?"

  "He has a date with my best friend on Saturday. Do I need to warn her about him? She's been hurt enough, and if you think there's a chance that he might use her, you need to tell me.” I listen to her come to her friend’s defense I can’t help but snicker.

  "What is so funny, Matthew?" she asks angrily, sitting back, folding her arms over her chest.