Saved By The Doctor (BWWM Romance) (11 page)

He shrugged, prompting Jackie to playfully punch him in the arm.

As their laughs died down, Jackie realized that she was running out of time and opportunities. “Look, we need to talk.”

Allan grunted. “I thought you'd never ask.”

Jackie sighed. “Okay, so last night was weird.”

Allan nodded.

“And I just want to let you know that it had nothing to do with you,” she explained, thinking that she was making things better.

She wasn't. “See, Jackie, that's just the problem with you. It's never about me.”

“I don't understand,” Jackie muttered.

“You don't know what I'd give to just be able to look inside myself and find the solution to this problem. I wish it was only a matter of me changing my behavior or doing something for you to make it all better, but it's not. It doesn't get better. I'm completely helpless.”

Jackie knew that doctors hated feeling helpless. It was the one thing she couldn't stand, but, “That seems to be a common theme...” she muttered. “Helplessness.”

“What?” Allan asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Jackie sighed. “I was raped.” The words were like three identical knives.

Allan's eyes seemed to brighten with enlightenment, but darken with anger all at the same time.  He glowered at her, as his every muscle stiffened and his perfect fingers clenched into a fist. “What.” His voice came out low and hard.

“It was a long time ago. Obviously,” she muttered.

“I could kill him,” he hissed.

Jackie raised an eyebrow. “Well, that would be pretty hard, considering the fact that I never saw his face.”

“Was he wearing a mask?” Allan demanded.

Jackie shook her head. Her heart began to flutter in her chest; her stomach churning as she proceeded to reach inside of the deep, dark confines of her mind to pull out the worst memory she had ever made and lay it out into the light of morning. “No,” she sighed. “He wasn't. It happened in a club... and I was drunk... and he slammed my head against- …I just couldn't see him at all.”

Allan rested his head in his hands.

Jackie's eyes went wide as she observed the cut of every one of his taut muscles. His chest rose and fell as he continued to take in deep breaths. Jackie opened her mouth twice to say something to him, something to diminish the whole situation, but the trouble was that it could not be... at all.

Finally, after a moment that seemed to last for a year, Allan spoke. “I'm sorry,” he breathed as he uncurled himself and turned to face her. He ran his hands through her hair, setting it on the small of her neck and drawing her face towards his.

Jackie put her mug down and wrapped her arms around him, resting her forehead on his. “You don't have to apologize. You had nothing to do with it.”

He shook his head. “I know, but the thought of someone touching you...” his voice caught and he had to stop. “...hurting you…” it was hard and heavy, “It makes me sick.”

“Well, it made me pregnant. With Laila... and I know it's odd, but I can't imagine my life without her. She brings more joy into my life than I could ever imagine. So, sometimes it makes it hard for me to think back about that awful night and wish it never happened-”

Allan tilted up her chin. “This is too much for one person to bear,” he replied with that warm gaze of his.

“Yeah, well, I never thought about it that way. I never thought about it at all.”

“That's strange, because it's a part of everything you do. I look at you right now and I'm afraid that that man destroyed us; that we never had a fighting chance.”

Jackie's heart swelled. If ever there was a time to tell him, that was it. “Look, Allan. Until recently, I didn't realize that I had let him into every part of my life.” Her eyes were starting to sting all over again. She gulped and continued talking. “Which is stupid because I never even saw the guy's face.”

At that, the both of them broke out in dark sobs.

“But what I'm trying to say is that the good thing is that I noticed that, or rather, you helped me notice that. And, the other day, when you said you loved me...”

“That was almost three weeks ago.”

Jackie pursed her lips. “I get that. It was three weeks ago. I'm sorry. You know I love you. Come on, there's no way that you don't. Your eyes can see right through me and you're always five steps ahead of me. Hell, you wouldn't even be here if you didn't believe that I loved you. So there it was, all out there in the open and obvious and I still couldn't say it and I'm sorry. I'm sorry that it was so hard for me because I love you. I love you so much. I love you more than I've ever loved a man in my life. I love you so much that now I've started saying it, I can't stop-”

She would have said it a million more times if he didn't interrupt her with a celebratory kiss.

“And here I was thinking that all was lost,” Allan muttered.

“It's not. We have a fighting chance and there's nothing I'd want more than to share it with you,” Jackie replied, opening up to him with more conviction than she had had with anyone since that terrible night.

“I know, but this means you have to actually let me in,” Allan replied with a severe voice.

Jackie nodded. “I will.” She found her eyes watering with tears of joy. “God, I want this so bad.”

Allan squeezed her so tight she found it hard to breathe, but she loved it anyway.

“I want you so bad,” Jackie cried into his chest.

“Shh...” he rubbed his hand down her back. “You have me,” he whispered.

Chapter Twelve

Jackie stared at herself in the mirror, taking in every unrecognizable inch of her body from her flat-ironed, blown out mane of hair, to the ruby red dress that hugged her body. She couldn't believe it was her, standing in the bathroom of the Met, taking a breather because all the champagne was starting to get to her. There were all sorts of important people, Allan's friends, just outside and even though she was loving being attached to his hip and introduced as his girlfriend to everyone, what she hated was always having to explain why she wasn't anything but a waitress at the moment. It was as she was thinking that the door swung open and three people she recognized from the gala came waltzing in, that same expression on their faces like they had the most splitting headache. They pressed themselves around her, taking up all of the mirror space and squeezing her out of the equation, so she took her rented clutch bag and went back outside to find Allan.

Once out in the atmosphere of house music mixed with the mingling of high class voices, she grabbed another glass of champagne at the soonest opportunity, even though it was already starting to make her feel lightheaded, and pressed through the bodies until she found herself staring at Allan's perfect frame.

He turned at the sound of her approach. “Hey, where have you been?” he asked.

Jackie shrugged. “I just needed a breather, so I went to the bathroom.”

Allan wrapped his arm around her waist, a small statement of ownership that made Jackie want to scream with delight. “Are you sure you're feeling okay?” he asked, his eyebrow raised in concern. “There are a lot of people in here.”

Jackie chuckled at how much he sounded like her mother. “No. I'll be fine. All of these dresses are making me kind of want a cigarette, but other than that, I am gonna be just fine,” she replied.

Allan laughed, taking away her fears that he wasn't going to understand the joke. “Okay, okay. I get it. All the shiny colors are giving me a headache too,” he replied.

Jackie glanced around nervously. “It's not the shiny colors, it's the shiny people,” she retorted.

Allan just laughed again, taking her hand in his. “You're a funny when you're nervous. You know that?”

Jackie cocked her head to the side. “I'm not nervous!” she cried defiantly as he pulled her through the crowd.

“Well, then you're perfectly ready to meet my best friend.”

Jackie's heart stopped. It was one thing to meet rich people she would never have to talk to again, but an entirely different struggle to try to prove to the people Allan cared about that she belonged with him. But before she could do anything to protest it, the two of them were staring at a tall man in a royal purple blazer and Jimmy Choo shoes.

“Hey, Jack!”

The man turned around to face the both of them. Jackie's eyes went wide when she realized that this was the Jack Reynolds; a man who owned one amazing gallery in Hell's Kitchen, but secretly controlled half of the art spaces in Manhattan. She focused on trying to keep her fangirl under control while Allan introduced her to him.

He turned his scrutinous eye on her, and much to her satisfaction, raised an eyebrow in intrigue. “And this is the painter you won't shut up about.”

Jackie could feel a lump welling up in her throat as she realized with glee that there, she wasn't the waitress.... she was the painter. She gave Allan a playful punch in his torso.

He grunted, but grabbed her hand and trapped it there. “Oh Jack, you really are a funny,” he replied in a voice that suggested he was trying extremely hard to hide his own embarrassment. “But I assure you, I say only good things.”

Jack nodded at this as he extended his hand to her. When she took it, he raised it to his lips and planted a kiss on the back of it that was so soft, it made her feel like a delicate flower. “But nothing he said could have prepared me for the real thing,” he replied.

Jackie could feel a fluttering in her stomach. It made her feel like she was swimming in cashmere to hear someone speak to her that way. “Oh wow. You two are too nice.”

Allan shrugged. “It's nothing to be honest,” he replied.

“So, Allan tells me you paint?” he asked.

Jackie nodded. “Yeah, I've been filling canvases with my ideas since I was in high school,” she replied, taking another sip of her drink.

Jack nodded, a chuckle escaping from his lips. “I absolutely love that: filling canvases with my ideas. Brilliant,” he replied.

Jackie could think of nothing to do but laugh in response.

“So, did you go to an art school?”

Jackie shook her head. “I grew up in Maryland, so I went to a public school, but my parents moved up to the city when I got into NYU.”

The man nodded, an expression of immense fascination on his face. “And that's where you studied art?”

Jackie nodded. “Yes, I majored in fine art.”

Jack turned to Allan, raising an eyebrow at him. “NYU is partnered with Julliard. Do you realize that you have a gem on your hands?” he asked.

Jackie could barely contain her excitement. “You're too kind.”

But Jack shook his head. “No. We'll decide how kind I am after I take a look at your artwork.”

Jackie could feel her heart swelling so much that she feared it would burst right out of her chest. “Oh my God... Are you serious?” she demanded. Then, before he could answer, she turned to Allan and asked, “Is he serious?”

Allan nodded. “It's a surprise I had planned for you tonight,” he replied.

Jack continued with, “So bring me your best sketches on Monday morning.” He pulled out his phone as if to pencil her in to his calendar. “Come at, say, 10:00 AM to my studio on 5th. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.”

Jackie nodded eagerly. “Of course I do,” she replied.

Just then, Jack swiped a glass of bubbly from a waitress and lifted it to the two of them. “Well, we're still on for golf on Wednesday, right, Allan?”

Allan shrugged. “Of course,” he replied.

Jack nodded. “Well, then it's about time I tried my hand at networking.” He nodded once at the two of them, but, before he turned around to leave them for good, he chuckled.

Both Jackie and Allan gave him an identical look of confusion. “What is it?” they asked.

He just shrugged. “Jack and Jackie. We will make a good team,” he replied.