Shark Out of Water (10 page)

“This could be bad,” Guy said quietly.

Vance nodded slowly. “Just try not to jump to conclusions before you speak to her, okay?”

Guy nodded, but he was not sure he could avoid it. He muttered a goodbye to Vance, then retreated back to his chair. What was he thinking getting involved in something like this? His longest, most serious relationship had lasted two months. What did he know about doing something like this? He shook his head as Vance’s comments filtered back into his mind. Although his romantic track record was less than impressive, Guy knew how to be a friend, he knew how to support someone through a difficult time in their life. He could do that for Charlotte… if she even wanted him to, that was. That was another unanswered question.

Chapter 11

Partir en Courant

It was a cruel form of torture, not calling Charlotte the morning after his discussion with Vance. He was desperate to know what was going on with her, but he knew she was preparing to visit her parents and did not want to compound the difficulty of what she was already facing. Guy guessed that she had not yet told them about the diagnosis, and when he spoke to Myles about it over the weekend, he could not confirm anything, but he left Guy with the impression that the diagnosis was recent and he did not think she had told anyone yet.

It killed Guy not to beg him for more information, but he knew he could not. Instead, he spent as much time as he could manage with Carmody’s family and his friends, to distract himself. He was disappointed Eli and Leila were still on their honeymoon. He could have used a little of Leila’s wit and spunk to take his mind off Charlotte. She was rarely so lively with any of the others in their group, but Guy seemed to bring out a spirited side to her. Or perhaps she just enjoyed making fun of him more than anyone else.

Guy was so eager to keep from dwelling on his impending discussion with Charlotte that when he walked up to
Dolcini
for his meeting Sunday evening with the next date shark client, he was glad to have something else to think about. He regretted the thought as soon as he walked in the door and found his client waiting for him.

“Dr. Guy,” Jemma cooed. “Aren’t you just so adorable! Look at you! You’re just such a cutiepie, yes you are!”

Taking a deep, deep breath, Guy tried not to push her away as she started pawing at him like he was a three-year-old being faced with an overly loving grandmother, despite the fact that she was a young woman in her twenties. She even proceeded to pinch his cheeks and squash his face between her hands as she made bizarre faces at him. It took everything he had not to step away from her.

What is she thinking?
he thought to himself.
How could she possibly think this is acceptable?

Putting on a professional face, he looked at Jemma firmly as he removed her hands from his face. “Please refrain from grabbing my face without permission, Jemma. Everyone is entitled to their personal space.”

“Of course they are,” Jemma said in the same tone of voice. “You’re just too much to resist, yes you are!”

She tried to touch him again, but Guy deftly stepped out of her way and approached the host stand. He was relieved to see Pierce back at his usual post. “Where have you been?” Guy complained. “Eli promised you would be here to assist me in this circus he calls a business.”

Pierce grimaced as Jemma scurried up next to Guy and started brushing off his clothes—not that there was any lint to be seen—but she seemed unable to keep from touching him and trying to find some way to mother him. Turning his attention back to Guy, Peirce said, “I do apologize, Mr. Saint Laurent. I ended up with pneumonia and had to stay off my feet for several weeks. I sincerely regret not being here to offer my assistance.” His eyes widened, and Guy turned to see Jemma licking her fingers, eyes intent on his hair.

Catching Jemma’s wrist, he refused to let her use her saliva to attempt containing an imaginary fault in his hair. Not only did he know there was nothing wrong with his hair, putting up with this
was beyond what he could tolerate. Guy found himself chiding her as he would Lily, shaking his finger at her and saying, “
Non, non
. That is not acceptable.”

Jemma dipped her head in shame, but was obviously even more frustrated that Guy had stopped her. The strange woman’s eyes kept drifting back to his hair even after he had released her hand. He took a step away from her and looked up at Pierce desperately.

“Let me take you to your table,” Pierce offered.

At least then Guy would have the whole width of the table separating him from her. If she felt the desire to spread her saliva on anything else, he would be out of her reach. Hopefully. He took his seat when they reached it and watched Pierce expertly pull out Jemma’s. She was not quite ready to take it yet. Instead, she bounded over to Guy and snatched his napkin off the table before he could react and began stuffing the corner under his collar.

She snapped her hands back with a smirk once it was in place. “There, now you won’t get your shirt dirty, you silly boy. I didn’t want you to forget and ruin that handsome shirt you’re wearing.” Thankfully, she took her seat after that.

Guy had no choice but to leave the napkin in place, fearing she would attack him again if he tried to remove it. He felt ridiculous, given that they did not even have any appetizers yet, or anything that had the potential to dirty his shirt. He glanced up at Pierce, wishing the night was already over.

“Your server will be with you momentarily,” Pierce said. He turned to Guy specifically. “If you need anything before then, don’t hesitate to ask.”

A new job
, Guy thought to himself. He wanted to be a good friend to Eli and help him fulfill his remaining contracts, but he was struggling to understand the point of the business. One night of observation, paired with one meeting to explain the issues and recommend treatment, was not going to change these women. He wanted to help them, but he did not feel the current approach was enough. He was not sure how to rectify that, however, and it left him feeling even more frustrated with the endeavor.

Frustration soon turned to embarrassment as their drinks arrived and Jemma attempted to wipe his chin after every sip. He finally had to abandon his drink altogether in order to keep himself from reacting to her. He was struggling to make polite conversation with her when their main courses arrived and she brazenly reached over the table, took his plate, and proceeded to cut every last bit of his food into bite-sized pieces. It looked like spit up baby food, pieces mashed together in a muddled mess when she handed it back to him.

“Thank you,” Guy muttered with a fake smile.

Jemma seemed to take his words at face value, and responded with a pleased, “You’re so very welcome. I’d hate to see you choke on something. Such a sweet boy you are! Can’t let anything unfortunate happen to you while I’m here. No I can’t. You’re much too precious for that.”

How did Eli manage to get through so many of these encounters? Guy was being tested to the last of his patience. He had to remind himself, once again, that he was there to try and help Jemma. It was hard to believe she did not already realize her behavior was off-putting, but she seemed so pleased with everything she had done for him that he knew she saw nothing wrong with what she was doing. Guy supposed that sort of thing might be endearing to a select few, but certainly not to the general male population.

There were some American dating customs he did not understand, such as not calling a woman back right away if a man was interested. He had been confused when American friends discussed the appropriate amount of time to wait before calling. If you were interested in a woman, you called her. Not staying in contact frequently would have been considered a slight at home. He still shook his head at some customs, but he knew enough to say without a doubt that only a few strange men would appreciate Jemma’s level of attention. Most would run as far and fast as they could.

This was the third of Eli’s remaining clients he had seen, silently sitting through their shocking behavior without complaint, because that was what Eli had instructed him to do. When Jemma attempted to feed him when she realized he was not eating, thanks to her destruction of his food and killing of his appetite, he was forced to put his foot down.

“Jemma, put my fork down this instant,” Guy said firmly.

She dropped it and stared at him like a puppy in trouble. “But…I thought…Eli told me…”

“I know what Eli told you,” he said as patiently as he could manage, “but I am the one here with you, and I think it is time to change the rules. Do you understand?”

She nodded hurriedly, whether she understood or not.

Guy signaled for their waitress, Megan. She approached the table somewhat cautiously. Guy handed her his plate of mushed food. “Could I have this replaced,
s'il vous plait
?”

Megan glanced at the mangled food in distaste. “Absolutely. I’ll be right back with a fresh plate.”

As she walked away, Guy took a drink of his wine. When Jemma reached up with her napkin, he snapped up a warning hand. She froze, not sure what to do with herself.

“Jemma, how old do you think I am?”

She stared at him, slowly lowering her napkin. “Um, in your late-twenties?”

“Close enough,” Guy said. “Old enough to wipe my own chin in the unlikely instance that I drip wine down my face, yes?”

Jemma seemed confused by the question. Her nod was slow.

“Old enough to cut my own food, and chew it well enough not to choke?”

Again, she nodded without showing true understanding of the point Guy was trying to make.

“Old enough to use a napkin, or take care of any mess I might make while eating?”

“Yes,” Jemma finally said, “but you don’t need to take care of those things. I can do it for you.”

“I do not want you to do such things for me.”

Her face fell. “But why?”

“Because I am a grown adult, perfectly capable of caring for myself during a meal. It makes me uncomfortable to have you be so attentive and overbearing.”

She seemed rather confused. Tears glistened in her eyes, making Guy question his approach, but he held his ground. In that moment, he imagined it was Patricia sitting across from him. He had stuck with her through so much, never giving up no matter how many times he wanted to simply walk away from the responsibility caring about her brought on his shoulders. These women were not facing drug addiction, mental illness, or personality disorders, but if they could not change their behavior, Guy knew they would spend their lives alone and unhappy. As he realized that, his demeanor changed and his frustration ebbed.

Jemma looked at him, her hands clenched in front of her chest. “I just wanted to help.”

“
Oui
, I know that, Jemma,” Guy said more patiently, “but perhaps there are better ways you could help, less intrusive ways.”

The young woman listened with an uncertain expression as she and Guy began discussing appropriate ways to show affection while on a date. When Megan returned with a fresh meal for him, Jemma immediately tried to grab for it, but he was prepared and refused to give her access. She was upset by his refusal, but when he asked her to help him decide on a dessert instead, she grinned at him as though he had just asked her to save his life. Guy could only hope she would begin to understand the point he was attempting to make.  Eli may not agree with his approach, but Guy no longer felt tied down by Eli’s tactics. He had turned the business over to him and he intended to run it in his own way.

The evening seemed to pick up pace after that. It was not long before he found himself driving home feeling rather pleased with himself. Jemma was nowhere near being capable of sitting through a social situation without trying to burp and feed whomever she was with, but he felt as though she had started down a path that might take her there someday.

He was tossing his jacket on the back of a chair when his phone rang. He reached for it without thought, but froze when he saw Charlotte’s name come up. He was slow to answer, putting it up to his ear with trepidation.

“
Bonsoir
, Charlotte,” he said as normally as possible.

“Hello, Guy. I hope you don’t mind me calling so late. I just got home and I wanted to say hi.”

Guy swallowed hard, wanting very much to know how her visit with her parents had gone. What decision had she come to, if any? Shoving his questions away was difficult. He did not want to bring up her health over the phone and risk her hanging up on him if she was upset that he had discovered her secret. Instead of prying into her weekend, he lowered himself to the sofa and merely said, “You can call any time you please. It is nice to hear from you.”

She seemed relieved, moving on to talking about her visit, though nothing specific to her illness. Guy listened, enjoying the sound of her voice, struggling to contain his fears. It was a long while later before Charlotte’s weariness finally caught up with her and she indicated she needed to get to bed. Guy was about to ask if he could see her in person, but she beat him to it.

“Guy, I hope this doesn’t seem too forward, but would you possibly have dinner with me tomorrow? I could use a friend to talk to, and some advice…if the offer stills stands.”

“Of course the offer still stands, Charlotte. Where would you like to eat?”

“Oh, um, I don’t know. I guess I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Why don’t you choose?”

Guy smiled, thinking back to the “date” he just left, and how much more he would have enjoyed being at his favorite restaurant if he had been there with Charlotte. “Have you ever been to
Dolcini
?” When Charlotte said she had not, he assured her she would love it. “I don’t get off until seven tomorrow. Will eight o’clock be acceptable?”