As Belinda drove home from the hospital, exhausted and emotionally drained, she began to regret her hasty phone call.
What have I done? I felt that thing with him. How long has it been since I felt that thing?
Pulling into her garage she sat in her car, the regret washing over her.
Take a shower and a nap. When you wake up you’ll feel much better, your head will be clearer. The morning you had could rattle anyone.
Moving inside she headed straight to her bedroom, peeled off her uniform, and grabbing her robe she headed into the bathroom; staring at her reflection in the large mirror she shook her head.
“You look tired. You look tired and stressed,” she muttered.
Reaching into the shower stall she turned on the faucets, then grabbing some lavender bath gel she stepped under the steaming water. Closing her eyes she let the shower splash over her body, and as the fragrant lavender scent floated around her, she took a deep breath.
I need to hand in my notice. I’m just burned out. My reaction to Troy was that, burn out. If I can deal with the trauma ward for a decade, I can deal with a boyfriend who’s a stuntman for goodness sake. It was the shock of it all…finding out what he did for a living, and then the craziness this morning.
As she toweled off and ambled to her bed, she dropped down, pulled the soft, microfiber blanket over her body and let her eyes close.
Sorry, Troy. I hope you’ll understand.
As her mind drifted and sleep descended, she saw him walking towards her, arms crossed, a glint in his eye.
“Sure I understand, but you’re wired, Belinda. You know what you need.”
“I do?”
“Are you just being coy, or do you really not know?”
His voice was thick, and warm, and invited the truth.
“Yes, I know.”
The dream suddenly shifted; she was in a white cotton dress, bent over a table, and he was spanking her, his hot hand moving methodically from cheek to cheek.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, lifting the dress over her waist.
“Well, DUH,” she retorted, “you smacking my ass, and how it stings, OW!”
“Exactly!”
Sitting bolt upright, panting heavily, she gazed around her room.
“Holy crap, that was so real,” she muttered. “Oh, man, what I have done? I have to text him. What time is it? Okay, perfect, if he’s free later this afternoon there’s still time for me to get it together.”
Sighing heavily she grabbed her phone, brought up his last call and typed in the message.
Sorry about earlier. Would it be possible to meet at the cafe later today, around 4?
Waiting nervously, her heart jumped when he immediately replied.
Yes, see you there.
Thank goodness. I’ll tell him about the morning, about what happened with Mrs. Barrett. He’ll understand, I’m sure he will, I hope he will. I’m such an idiot sometimes.
Laying back on her bed she was about to reach for her remote control to turn on the television, but changed her mind.
No, I need to chill and nap some more, and then I need to draft my resignation letter. What a relief. He’s still willing to meet me after that stupid phone call.
Across town Troy was zipping his car out of the studio parking lot.
I find it hard to believe it’s just a coincidence. My name is being splashed everywhere and she calls? She was so sure just an hour ago. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but I’m not a big believer in coincidence.