Rebound by Rosemary Rey Page A

head
in. It would be great if I could spend ten minutes soaking my face
in the cold water to reduce the puffiness. As I dipped my face into
the water for a third time, I felt the dull pain and remembered
that I’d hurt my leg. I remembered, he’d left to get his medical
bag when I cut my shin. Think, Perla. What happened
next?
    Dashing knocked on the door. “Are you
okay in there?” He must’ve thought that I was looking through his
medicine cabinets, which would be the thing I would do.
    “ I’ll be out soon.” I
yelled. I knew I had to get out and face Dashing. I took some of
the water into my hands and ran my moist hands into my hair, hoping
to reactivate the products I’d used last night to smooth out the
frizz. I pulled my hair to the side and twisted my long curls into
a loose bun. I smoothed out the curls at my temples. After pressing
down the stopper, I watched the water drain out quickly. I rinsed
my mouth with warm water. I took the hand towel and patted my face
and hands. I wiped down the sink to dry everything. I saw water on
the floor. Nice. I bent down and wiped the floor. Not knowing what
to do with the towel, I held onto it. I said a little prayer, sign
of the cross on my forehead, deep inhale, and exhaled on turning
the door knob.
    I stepped out into the bright room. I
could see the skyline clearly now that the sun was partially
covered by clouds; gorgeous view. From my peripheral vision, I saw
Dashing coming toward me from the kitchen. Nervous bubbles rose in
my belly to my chest. I felt flushed.
    “ I made coffee. How do you
take yours?” He asked gently.
    “ I’ll just take it black.”
He looked at me quizzically, raising a dark, full brow that he’d
raised when I met with him in his consultation room.
    “ Really? I thought you
would want it light and sweet.” It was my turn to question that
remark.
    “ What does that mean? Is
there a way people take their coffee based on personality. I’m
neither light or sweet.” I declared. He smirked and grabbed at my
hand.
    “ When you came into my
office, you were drinking a latte. I could smell the sugar when I
leaned over you to test your legs. What’s this?” He looked at my
hand. I raised the towel. I was still mulling over his recollection
that I drank a latte and that my breath smelled sweet. I almost
came.
    “ I used it to clean up
some of the water off the floor. I couldn’t find a place to put it
for laundering.”
    “ No worries. Glynnis will
take care of that.” He took the towel.
    “ Glynnis?” I asked. A bit
of concern that he may have a girlfriend, or worse, a
wife.
    “ My house keeper. She’ll
wash it when she comes in on Monday.”
    I was relieved that Glynnis is his
house keeper, but I was more intrigued that he had one. It always
sounded like such a luxury, one that I couldn’t reconcile when
married to Ben. There was an expectation that I take care of work
and home.
    He took my hand and walked me toward
the kitchen counter. He pulled out the stool and lifted my arm to
have a seat. He’s such a gentleman. I experienced it last night
when we were at the club. I found his manners and control
irresistible, but I needed to proceed with caution. Alcohol, on
both of our parts, could have been the reason for why he approached
me at the club. If I hadn’t had a few shots of liquid courage, I
wouldn’t have had the courage to tell him that I was sober enough
to fuck him.
    Despite having a house keeper, he
looked very comfortable in the kitchen. He retrieved two glass mugs
and poured coffee into both. He poured steamed milk into one and
stirred. He handed me the black coffee. I’m lactose intolerant. I
didn’t want to get into it with a doctor, albeit an orthopedic
surgeon.
    “ Thank you.” I took a sip
and while I knew it would wake me up and beat back the lingering
hangover, it was horrible without steamed almond or soy milk and
five raw sugars.
    “ Would you like something
to eat? I can make you some eggs or