I slapped her file closed and picked up the envelope I’d previously had in my hands. Slipping out a folded sheet of paper, I immediately noticed what looked like red marker bleeding through the page. Once it was unfolded, the message jumped straight at me. “Your time has come to pay for what you have gotten away with. The guilty will burn in hell.”
I tossed the paper on my desk and walked back over to the window. A woman was walking down the sidewalk with two young children as the sun’s rays shined through the branches of the trees above them. They looked happy and peaceful, which was a direct contrast to the storm I felt brewing deep inside.
Walking back to my desk, I picked up the phone and dialed a number from memory. After a couple of rings, a man’s voice answered. “This is Thad.”
“Thad, it’s Kean. It’s starting again.”
Chapter Nine
Ciaran
We live in a society where women pay hundreds of thousands of dollars for chemicals to be injected into their bodies because they hope for acceptance in a world that bases everything on appearances. Dr. Kean Bennett is no different than any of those holding a magnifying glass. Driven only by the method of payment he will receive he cares nothing for the physical or emotional well-being of his patients. He is a fraud. A cold, rude, asshole fraud who takes advantage of those who are too weak to stand up for themselves. And when he isn’t pumping their bodies full of poison, he is pumping them between the sheets, breaking every code of ethics imaginable.
I killed the car engine and flipped the visor down, willing myself to not think about the last paragraph I had written. In the tiny mirror my eyes were bloodshot and puffy from all the crying I had done over the last twenty-four hours.
I was a mess.
After I flew out of Dr. Bennett’s office yesterday, I floored the gas pedal all the way back to work. I was going to tell Shawna I would not be completing my assignment because Dr. Bennett was a walking dick.
It wasn’t until after I sat in the Polish office parking lot trying to pull myself together that I reconsidered taking such a drastic measure. I drove home instead where I spent the rest of the day suffering through bouts of crying as I typed my draft.
Dr. Kean Bennett deserved every word I wrote.
Well, almost every word.
My writing may have lost its objectivity towards the end, but after the rude way he treated me I couldn’t care less. The entire experience left a nasty taste in my mouth I couldn’t seem to get rid of no matter what I did. I slept. I washed a load of laundry. I watched a couple of reruns on the television. And I wrote. I wrote and wrote and wrote with the feeling of rejection looming over me. Which was why when Stuart called to extend a dinner invitation I jumped at the chance. I needed to escape my own head and Stuart provided an out.
Le Chocolat Noir, the French restaurant where we were going to meet specialized in infusing chocolate into their gourmet dishes. It was a place I had always wanted to try but it was expensive and the practical side of me couldn’t rationalize spending a ton on food.
I stood in line at the reservation podium and began to feel a bit better as I basked in the pretty atmosphere. Cream, rose and antique gold were featured on the walls and decor, while chunky pieces of dark wood furniture filled the front area, allowing guests to comfortably lounge while they waited for a table. The room was packed with people but the check-in line moved quickly and before long I was next.
“Welcome to Le Chocolat Noir. How many in your party?” the young hostess asked.
“I’m meeting someone, Stuart Whitman.”
Looking down at the reservation list in front of her, she nodded her head, sending her dark curls bobbing.
“Yes, Mr. Whitman is already seated. If you will please follow me.”
Trailing after her, I fiddled with the clasp on the clutch in my hand. I hadn’t been sure about the dress code so I had thrown on a classic black swing dress that fell above my knees. I’d dressed it up with a silver cuff bracelet, silver hoop earrings and a pair of heels. As we walked through the seated patrons, I was relieved to see I fit in well with the other women.
We approached a table towards the back of the restaurant where Stuart was seated. A wide smile spread across his face as he stood and pulled me into a hug.
“Ciaran, you’re gorgeous, as always,” he complimented, as he pulled my chair out, before sliding back into his seat.
“Thank you, Stuart. And thanks for inviting me.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Angel. I’ve already ordered a bottle of white wine. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I never mind wine,” I assured him with a smile.
As if on cue, a waiter appeared with a bottle. Once both our glasses were full, he placed the bottle in a silver ice bucket next to the table and promised to be back shortly to take our order before backing away.
I took a small sip allowing the fruity undertones to roll over my taste buds. Stuart smirked proudly as he watched me. This dinner may be giving him the wrong impression on where our relationship was going. I was going to have to break it to him gently.
Setting my glass down, I asked, “So, why did you invite me to dinner?”
“Do I need a reason to take my sexy woman out to eat?”
Yup, I was definitely going to have to spell it out for him because we were not on the same page about where we stood.
“Stuart, we should talk.”
Stuart cut me off. “Ciaran, I like spending time with you. Our relationship means everything to me.”
The look on his face was so earnest, I struggled with my decision to pop his expanded balloon. I opened the thick, leather bound menu and squirmed in my chair. I needed to focus on something other than the lovesick expression he wore on his boyish face.
“How is your piece on Kean Bennett turning out?” he asked, forgetting to add the doctor’s title to the front of Kean’s name.
“You mean Dr. Bennett? Fine, I guess. I completed the rough draft of my article earlier today.” At the mention of the asshole, tears threatened to make an appearance from behind my eyes. I blinked rapidly to prevent it. Stuart didn’t need to know how my assignment was really going. He was liable to be the nice guy he was and attempt to come to my rescue, which would only make the situation worse. I wasn’t the type of girl who needed saving. I could take care of myself. Besides, the whole reason I came to dinner was to avoid thinking about the drama with my assignment.
Thankfully, the waiter returned to take our order distracting me from my thoughts.
“Ciaran, do you know what you want?”
“Yes, I’ll have the mussels with Roquefort sauce.”
The waiter smiled. “Very good, madam. One of my favorites. And for you, sir?”
While Stuart proceeded to bombard the waiter with questions in French, I took another sip of my wine and watched the young hostess seat a couple at a table adjacent to ours. The striking woman was hard not to notice. She wore a red bandage dress that hugged every inch of her perfect body. As she gracefully lowered into a chair her date moved into view. When he looked in my direction, dark green eyes collided with mine. They blinked once then jetted to where Stuart was finishing up with the waiter.
Suddenly feeling overheated, I grabbed my wine glass and took a huge gulp.
“So, tell me about your draft?” Stuart requested.
I shook my head as my eyes nervously shifted over his shoulder eyeing the close distance Dr. Bennett and his date were sitting. “You know, I would rather not discuss it right now.”
Stuart looked over his shoulder to see what held my attention. I watched with interest as Dr. Bennett shot a hate filled glare in my date’s direction before nodding. It was a nod that spoke volumes. It wordlessly acknowledged the men somehow knew each other.
Stuart had been keeping secrets.
“Oh my God. You know Dr. Bennett,” I hissed.
Stuart took a sip from his glass before answering my accusation. “We may have crossed paths a time or two.”