Chapter 8: Acts of Salvation: Chapter 7

The Wilson family leaves for their vacation today, and of course, they’ve left their selections to the very last minute. I’m at their home about to drop off the final pieces they requested when my phone buzzes. I see it’s Bella, so of course, I answer.

“Hey, chica. What’s up?”

“You busy?” Bella’s voice comes out a few octaves higher than usual. Something’s up.

“I’m at a client’s house but I’m never too busy for you. You’re my ride or die, girl. So talk to me.” It’s true, Bella is my ride or die—another reason why I could never betray her by dating her uncle. It’s already fucked-up enough that I’ve slept with him.

“I just need some advice. You up for some girl time later?”

“Of course. Meet me at my place in a couple of hours.” My mood instantly lifts at the idea of spending a fun night in. Maybe it’ll help take my mind off the looming contract and my mother’s increasing pile of bills.

“Awesome,” Bella singsongs. “I’ll bring Torchy’s.”

“Bless your heart!” I love that she knows me and my penchant for street tacos so well. “Okay, see you later. The butler is waving me in.”

“Ooooh, fancy.” Bella snickers into the phone.

“Stop. You know your dad would have one too if it wasn’t for his ingrained distrust of everyone… Okay, for real now. Bye.” I cut the line as I begin to march forward, a rolling cart full of clothes in tow.

Moments later I’m standing in front of Blair, wondering how in the hell I got myself into this mess. “What do you mean?” A bead of sweat rolls down my back at the idea of being alone with Mr. McCreeperson again. “Why can’t I just leave Dr. Wilson’s selections with you? Aren’t you all going to the same place?”

“Yes, darling, of course. But Woodrow has a business dinner before his flight.” Blair stares blankly at me as if that should explain everything.

Newsflash, it doesn’t.

Demurely huffing out air and rolling her eyes, she continues. “He’ll need the Audemars Piguet you special ordered for him from Vegas. Thank you for that, by the way. I know it was the last one on the market and we’re very impressed you were able to get your hands on it.” Blair purses her lips again, recreating her favorite duck lip pose. “See, this is why we simply must have you as our personal stylist.” She circles me like a shark circles its prey. “Have you given the contract any thought? Things are going extremely well, and that bonus is burning a hole in my pocket.”

There she goes again, pursing those lips. Wanting to stop any further discussion of the contract, I acquiesce. “Fine. I’ll stop by Dr. Wilson’s office on my way home. Will I be taking all of his selections or just the watch?”

“Just the watch.” Blair claps as if she’s won the war.

Just the battle, Blair. Just the battle.

McCreeperson’s office is located between Oak Lawn and Turtle Creek. To say that his place of business is swanky would be an understatement.

For fuck’s sake, the man has chandeliers in his waiting area. Who needs chandeliers in a waiting area?

“You must be Cassie.” A blond woman wearing white scrubs greets me from behind the reception desk. “Could I interest you in some cucumber water while you wait? Dr. Wilson is with a patient right now.”

“No, thank you.” Of course, they have cucumber water. They probably offer a complimentary massage while you wait. I shake my head at the absurdity.

Luckily, I don’t have to wait long. Woodrow appears from behind a door before I’m able to take a seat in one of their luxurious armchairs.

Trailing behind him is a petite blond woman—I’m beginning to see a pattern here—who won’t take her eyes off of the good ol’ doctor. Her adoration is so intense that she practically runs into Woodrow when he stops abruptly, noticing me for the first time.

“Cassie, what a pleasure.” Woodrow directs his attention toward me, completely dismissing his patient, much to her dismay as evidenced by her staring daggers at me.

“Hi.” I awkwardly wave, unsure of how to act around him. “Blair asked me to make a special delivery for you.” Even though Woodrow’s office is flashy, I don’t want to come right out and say, ‘Hey, I brought you your hundred-thousand-dollar watch.’

“Ah, the watch.” The corner of his mouth lifts in a half-smile. “Follow me into my office would you?”

Not really sure why I can’t just hand over the box. I’m about to argue the point when the man in question disappears behind the door, leaving me no choice but to follow.

Making my way past several exam rooms, I notice they’re all dimly lit with mood music playing within. I have to give it to the man, he certainly knows his clientele.

Snickering to myself, I picture what his ad would be like…

How about a little cucumber mask with your injectables? Here at Dr. McCreeperson’s, we’ve got you covered.

“What’s so funny?” Woodrow pulls me out of my thoughts, making me realize I’ve actually laughed out loud.

“Oh, nothing. So why the need to come back to your office?” I quickly change the subject, not wanting him to know I was laughing at his expense.

“My safe. I wanted to take off the watch I’m wearing now and put it in the safe.”

I don’t point out that he could have done that without me, or the fact that he’d be sharing the location of his safe by letting me be in here while he accessed it. Not very smart.

Before I know it, he’s right in front of me, reaching out his hand to brush a strand of hair out of my face. I freeze in horror, completely taken off-guard by his audacity.

“Pardon me saying this but has anybody told you you have the most symmetrical face? It’s absolutely stunning. Would have made Nefertiti green with envy.” He laughs at his own brand of joke, one I don’t think is very funny. In fact, this whole thing is downright creepy.

I try to take a step back but the wall prevents me from moving further. My heart begins to race and my palms sweat from the unexpected proximity to this creep. Should I knee him in the balls? Slap him and run?

A vision of the bonus flashes across my mind’s eye and it fortifies my resolve to see this trial run through the end. That check could really help Mom, and this weirdo isn’t anything I haven’t had to handle before.

A faint buzzing breaks the awkward moment and I realize it’s my phone. Fishing it out of my bag, I answer, despite not knowing who it is. I need a reprieve from this man and fast.

“Hello?” I rush out before McCreeperson can try anything else.

“Hey girl, where are you? I’m outside your place, but nobody is home?” Bella sounds worried, and rightfully so.

“Hi, yes. I’m not there yet but I will be in like ten minutes. Let yourself in but don’t let Bruce have any of my Torchy’s I’m not sharing tonight.” I give her a weak laugh because it’s all I can muster.

Before I’ve even put away my phone, Woodrow is back in my personal space. “Who’s Bruce? Is that your boyfriend?”

Not sure where in the hell this man got the idea that this information is any of his business but I answer him anyway, needing to push him away any way I can. He doesn’t need to know that Bruce is actually my hundred-pound dog.

“Yes, he is. And he’s at home waiting for me. So if you’ll excuse me, I better get going.” I slide to the side, escaping the little bubble of tension he had me under.

“I understand. If I had someone as lovely as you, I’d never want to let you out of my sight.” Woodrow’s brows scrunch together as if it pains him to let me go. This man just keeps getting creepier and creepier.

“Right.” Giving him a quick nod, I grab on to the doorjamb, needing to secure my freedom as soon as possible. “Well, you have a wonderful trip.”

I turn and speed walk out the door, hightailing it out of there and practically slam into the nurse who’d greeted me earlier.

“Cassie. Is everything alright?” Her super sweet demeanor makes me wonder if she knows what kind of creep she’s working for.

Smoothing my hand over my dress, I attempt to recompose myself. “Yes, thank you. Just running late for girls’ night.”

Clapping her hands together excitedly, the nurse begins to talk a mile a minute. “Oh, that sounds like so much fun. It’s been a while since I’ve had a night out with the girls. Maybe I could tag along? We don’t have any patients for the rest of the day, and I’m sure Dr. Wilson won’t mind if I duck out early…” Seeing the look of surprise cross my face, the woman decides to introduce herself. “My name is Barbie, by the way.”

It takes a herculean feat to keep myself from snickering. The way she just spoke, all high-pitched, super-fast, and extremely bubbly—let’s just say her name suits her perfectly.

“Barbie, that sounds like fun and maybe next time we could make that happen, but my bestie was counting on one-on-one time tonight. You understand, right?”

Blushing profusely, Barbie bobs her head up and down. “Of course, I didn’t mean to invite myself like that. It’s just that I recently moved here and I don’t have that many friends yet.”

Now I just feel like a heel. “Okay, how about we grab a coffee sometime soon? Get to know each other more. You might come to realize you don’t even like me as a friend.” I give Barbie a sheepish smile, hoping she doesn’t feel as embarrassed anymore.

“Oh, I’d love that. Thank you.” She grabs my hand and squeezes—wow, Barbie has a grip on her. “I’ll get your number from Dr. Wilson and text you later in the week so we can set that up.”

“Sounds good.” I give her a quick nod and begin to speed walk away. The last thing I want is for Dr. Wilson to come out of his office and find that I’m still here.

Time to make like a banana and split.