Page 26 of Doctor's Demands
I make a confession that I probably shouldn’t, “Petra, it’s not that easy. You see, I long to feel your soft skin. It’s almost impossible for me to want less than that. I must admit, I want even more from you.”
“You don’t have to do the same old thing, Owen. This may not be my place to say, but what if you’re evolving? You might be expecting more out of a woman you’ve paid so much for. I am yours to do with whatever you want. Anything at all. Just come back to me tonight. Let’s see if you can do to me what you did with the others, or do something different. Just come back, please.”
A sudden, gigantic burst of pure guilt comes over me, and I spurt, “I’m not sure what I want from you. And you’re not to call me. We are not friends, and I’ll see you when I want to.” I hang up the phone and feel awful before I even toss it back onto the passenger seat.
I’m an ass!
Why does this have to be so damn hard? And why am I getting out of my car and heading back into the club? And what the fuck am I going to do about this thing?
Leaving my cell behind, I lock the car up and head back inside. My heart is leading me, and my brain is letting it win. I go to the gift shop and look over the jewelry. The Dungeon of Decorum has a nice collection to choose from, and I pick out a necklace with a heart made from diamonds that should hit her about where her collarbones meet. It’ll look gorgeous on her, and that’s all I want. I want her to feel gorgeous. And I haven’t made her feel that way.
“Will this be all?” the cashier asks as she nods toward a very nice basket full of cheeses, fresh fruits, and a bottle of wine. “Because that’s a perfect place to hide this little beauty and really give your sub a surprise.” She pulls it over to show me everything that’s in the ornate basket. “I bet she’s been very good to you and you want to show her how much you appreciate everything she’s done.”
“She’s been perfect,” I mumble. “Better than I deserve.”
“Aww, I’m glad you got a good one,” she says as she puts the necklace in a black box. “How long have you two been partners?”
“Um, not long.” I pull the basket to me and look at the perfume too. “Add in a nice perfume, as well. She’s been very good for such a short amount of time. And I’ll take this basket. Can you have it delivered to apartment twenty-two?”
“I can. Do you want it delivered right away or some other time?” she asks as she pulls out a nice-looking perfume and sprays some on a small sampler, then wafts is around.
Taking in a sniff of the floral aroma, I nod. “That one will be perfect. And have it taken to her right away. I’m going to go to the bar.”
“Would you care to write her a note?” she asks as she pushes a pen and a pad of paper covered with hearts toward me.
I take it and write two words, ‘I’m sorry.’ Then I push it back to her and see a smile move over her face.
“I’m sure this will get her to accept your apology.” She pushes the bill to me and I sign it. “You’re so handsome; I can’t imagine any woman who could stay mad at you for very long, anyway.”
With a nod, I leave. Petra deserves more than trinkets as an apology for my shitty mouth. She deserves to hear the words come out of my mouth. She deserves so much more from me. And I’m not about to give it to her.
Finding the bar packed with couples, I already feel badly about being there and leaving Petra alone. But I have to do some soul searching. Something is different inside of me.
As I take a barstool near the end of the long bar, the bartender comes to me, drying a crystal glass. “Name your poison?”
“You name it for me. I want to get drunk. Can you help me with that?” I ask the man who looks at me with dark eyes which I know have seen some pretty bad things.
“Before I do you that service, can you tell me if you have a ride home this evening? If not, I’ll arrange one for you before I fix what ails you.”
“Oh, a bartender with responsibility. I like you already. I have an apartment here. But if I tell you I’m going to my hotel, get me a ride.”
“Sure thing,” he says as he holds out his hands. “Car keys, please, and I’ll get you set up.”
Handing him my keys, I make the pact with him that we’ll see me drunk in no time. Sometimes I just need a restart. I drink until I can’t anymore and it kind of resets my brain and gets me back on the right track. I need that right now.
I have no idea of what the man places in front of me, but I down it in one shot that leaves my throat burning. The heat moves down to my stomach and I give him a nod of approval. He sets me up again, then places a cold mug of beer in front of me. “I’ll let you finish that, then see how you’re doing.”
Sipping the beer, I think about my distaste for drunk women and why I feel it’s okay for me and not them. Maybe there’s a place inside of me that thinks they should be stronger than men. Women should be the support system of the family, not just as weak as their counterparts.
Mom was not a nurturer. Dad brought that up a lot when we were growing up. She’d go out and send us over to dad’s, telling us she had to have some ‘her time,’ My brother, sisters, and I would go to dad’s, tell him what mom had said, and he’d tell us how she was leaving us to go get drunk and laid and what a selfish bitch she was.
He did all this while consuming copious amounts of beer and watching things on television that were about as close to porn as one could get on public television. While making comments about Mom that had us kids, thinking some pretty bad thoughts about her.
Looking back at it all leaves me thinking about how I’m not fit to have children or a real woman in my life. I find my drinks gone and the bartender is setting me up again. “Thanks,” I tell him as he places the shot glass and another mug of beer down in front of me.
“I can get you some female company if you want,” he offers.
“Nah, I got some if I want it. She’s locked away in my apartment.” I take the shot as I think about the fact I have a beautiful woman who wants to do anything for me and who will allow me to do anything I want to her. And here I am, getting wasted.
