Layers (11 page)

“And do what, Daniel? Fuck again and end up feeling empty and hurt by your reaction? You’ll just send all these mixed messages and play with my brain. No thank you, I’ll pass.” My eyes direct fire his way.

He looks at me like he’s irritated or a tad dismayed, biting the side of his thumb.

“I am not a call girl; I am not here to entertain you as you please.”

“I never said you were one, Hayley.” His voice becomes cold and hoarse.

“No Daniel, you didn’t, but you just made me feel like one.” I snort.
“I don’t kiss if I don’t mean it,”
jumps to my mind again, burning deep inside. I stand up and take a deep breath. “I’m leaving now.” Against my will, my words come out weak.

“Don’t, Hayley,” he says, and tries to take my hand.

“Sorry, this is too much for me.” I hold my hands up. “I seriously thought I could handle it, could handle you, but I can’t.” He appears to be highly effected but at this point I really don’t care how he feels or what he thinks.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” he utters, half to me, half to himself.

“Don’t bother,” I murmur, and yet he does. We walk through the corridor in mortifying silence, and it seems like with every step the wall between us grows higher. When we get to the door, he hugs me and inclines his head, resting his forehead on mine, his eyes studying me. Again these acts of affection
. I can’t do this.

“Bye, Daniel.” I pull myself out of his embrace and our connection.

“Don’t go, Hayley … or at least let me drive you back. It’s too late and too cold.”

“I’m a big girl. Believe me, I can manage without you.” I can’t wait to get out of here and away from him. “Goodbye,” I snap and storm out. By the light coming from the house I know that he’s standing there looking at me, but I don’t give a damn; I just can’t wait to get away.

My mind is in such turmoil all the way home, all I want to do is get into my bed and sleep off the evening. I don’t even want to think about it, about him.

Utterly consumed by my irritation and my thoughts, I look ahead, without really seeing the road. Tearing me out of my thoughts, the scooter jerks beneath me and in less than a heartbeat my body comes in contact with hard asphalt.

I am frozen.

For a few minutes I lie on my side, hurt, shaken, and muddled, till everything around me dims.

~~~

Bright light prompts my eyelids to flutter, and I try to force them open as I hear a voice gently saying my name.

“Miss Grace. Hayley.” A nurse with big, soft, blue eyes smiles warmly down at me.

“Hayley.” A raspy, familiar voice comes from my other side. With a speeding heart and spiked nerves, I reflexively pivot to search for the man behind the voice. As a reaction to my hasty movement, sharp throbbing envelops my head. Daniel’s eyes meet mine and narrow; he bites his lip, grimacing at the twitch of pain that crosses my face.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low, filled with worry.

For a silent second of eternity, I just look at him as he studies me with concern. Disregarding his question, I break our tense connection and return to face the nurse. Answering my apparent confusion, she explains that, as it seemed, I crashed the scooter. She adds that it was probably due to an oil stain or a small rock. I take a deep breath, processing this surreal craziness I’ve found myself in.

“You were lucky enough to get out of it with just a couple of bruises,” the nurse says as she presses a button, inclining my bed to an almost sitting position. She adjusts my pillow and offers me a glass of water. I take a few sips, still scattered, quenching my thirst while I listen to her.

Many questions run through my mind, but they all turn into one.
What is he doing here?

“We’ll keep you here for a couple of hours just to make sure you’re fine, and if everything is okay, you’ll be able to go home.” She glances at Daniel and back at me. To my continuing silence she says, “Your scooter was brought in by Mr. Stark.” She tilts her chin toward Daniel.

The nurse rests her comforting hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be back with Dr. Spencer shortly. Try to rest.” Her smile is kind, genuine.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” She starts toward the door. As soon as she turns her back, I feel Daniel’s warm hand covering mine. Slowly, I turn my head to face him, pulling away slightly. Sensing my recoil, he tightens his grip.

“How?” is all I manage to say before he answers my question.

“They called me. Apparently I was the last number on your call list.” He squeezes my palm again. I slip my hand out of his grip; a pulse of heat keeps radiating where his skin just touched mine. He twists his mouth but doesn’t say a word, his stare a mixture of worry and muddled emotions.

“Are you hurting? Are you okay?” His eyes run over my face.

I nod, not even sure how I feel, and quietly say, “Thank you for bringing my scooter. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but please leave …”

“Hayley …” His dense voice is tinged with frustration.

I don’t need your pity, I don’t need your help, I don’t need you here. I. Don’t. Need. You. You made your point earlier, loud and clear
. I shake my head, swallowing the pain this simple action causes.

“Hayley, I want to be …”

I cut him mid-sentence, slightly raising my hand, “Just leave …” My words are a sigh.

“I wanted to make sure you were fine,” Daniel says solemnly, captivating my eyes, holding my gaze for a long moment. I tear my stare away; my eyes remain downcast as I slowly shake my head. He lets out a frustrated sigh and turns on his heels, stepping out of the room, not before sending a last grim glance my way.

Till I am allowed to go home, I spend the time feeding my hurt ego and confused mind with visions from that night.

Chapter 10: Blast Effect

The smell of fresh brewed coffee teases my nose, encouraging me to wake up. I fetch my phone to check what time it is, and as the phone restarts an unread text message pops onto the screen. I minimize it, deliberately disregarding it, guessing who it’s from.
It is barely eight thirty, I have plenty of time
. I don’t have to be at work before noon.

Halfway through getting dressed, I check the bruises on my hip, the only visible evidence from the newly named “night to be forgotten.” On the spot, I decide not to tell Tasha, Ian or anyone else for that matter about the accident. The last thing I want is to be preached to about the scooter and safety.

Walking into the kitchen, I find it empty, and I recall that it’s Tasha’s first day at work.
She must have left already
. I go back to get my phone from the room then turn the coffee machine on, letting it heat up. Popping an Advil to kill the remnants of a headache, I dial Tasha’s number.

“Hey you,” her cheerful voice greets me.

“Hey, working girl.”

“Remarkable choice of words, Missy,” she chuckles.
The irony stings …

“Are you there already?”

“Just arrived. Going to see your new BFF Mrs. Greenich.”

“Make sure to send her all my love when you see her.” We both snicker.

“I’ll call you later, Hales, okay? After I’ve settled in.”

“Okay. Knock em’ dead.”

“Rest assured, I will.”
I’m sure you will
. Through her giggles she says goodbye.

Back at the kitchen I make myself a mug of dark coffee and head back to bed. Placing the coffee on my nightstand, I turn on the laptop and position it on my lap. As it comes to life I browse through the news and check my inbox. There’s an email from Daniel. I look at the unread mail with mixed emotions, mostly anger, but my curiosity overcomes me.

Curiosity, Hales? Ask the cat how well it worked for him …

Hayley,

You didn’t reply to my text last night and got me worried. Hope you arrived safely after all and that you’re well.

I never planned for last night to end like it did.

Let’s talk.

DS

I can’t deal with him right now; I don’t want to deal with him right now. I close my laptop and head to the shower.

~~~

The time at work barely passes; each time I check the clock the minute hand seems stuck at the same angle. The phone hardly rings and there aren’t too many requirements for my assistance. Even Mrs. Never Got Laid seems mellow, definitely not her usual cruel self. I’m bored, looking at the PC in front of me; I chuckle inwardly and Google “Psychopathic Characteristics.”

About 121,000,000 results in less than 0.24 seconds

Signs of irrational thinking
:
Check

Nervousness or neurotic manifestations
:
Check

Unreliability
:
Check

Lack of remorse or shame
:
Check

Antisocial behavior without apparent compunction
:
Check

Poor judgment and failure to learn from experience
:
Check

Pathological egocentricity and incapacity for empathy
:
Check

Frantic and inadequate behavior
:
Check

And we have a match!

I decide that now’s as good a time as ever to answer
him
.

Daniel,

I’m sure you didn’t plan for last night to end like it did. Neither did I, but that doesn’t change what happened.

I don’t believe there’s anything left to talk about; you made it quite clear what you have in mind and what you don’t, which is absolutely fine. I believe we’re looking for very different things.

Don’t stress about it, D. It was a pleasure knowing you.

Hayley

As soon as I sign it I send my response, making sure I won’t be able to retract or rewrite it. About a short office conversation and a coffee later I receive a reply.

Dear Hayley,

I’m glad to learn that you’re well and alive.

Stop acting like a kid and let’s talk.

Daniel

I tuck the phone irritably in my back pocket.

~~~

I’m so glad at Tasha’s return that evening, and I feel the sheer gratitude of having an in-house shoulder to cry on, a partner in crime, a soul mate.

“Honey, I’m home, hide the milkman.” Her voice drastically elevates my mood.

“In here,” I call, and she pops her head in my room, grinning at me.

“Join me at the royal dining room?”

“But of course.” I too easily leave my artwork and join her in the kitchen.

“Wine?” she asks.

“By all means, yes, and keep ‘em coming.” I’m rewarded by a full-blown smile and an arched eyebrow.

“How was your first day at kindergarten?” I watch her eagerly pour the wine into two tall glasses.

“Better than I expected,” she responds, taking a sip of her chardonnay as she hands me mine. She kicks her black stilettos aside.

“Cheers, dear. To new kick-ass careers.” I lift my glass to hers, leaning my hip against the counter.

“Everyone was welcoming and helpful. The group of people I will work with are nice, and they all seem to be friendly, which is a good thing. It’ll be a nice group to work with,” she says, as she settles herself parallel to me behind our kitchen counter.

“So what’s wrong, Hales?” Her expression changes, her mouth becoming a thin line. Her eyes narrow, scrutinizing me as she confronts me.

“What do you mean?” Gloom falls over me once I realize I’ll eventually have to talk about how I really feel.

“What do I mean?” She repeats my own words, scornfully, tapping her fingers against the surface of the counter. She seems to be assessing her thoughts before she mutters.

“You tell me,” She huffs. “Any idea why Daniel bothered to pay me a visit
on my first day at work
, all concerned and intimidating, just to find out whether my best friend was fine?” I take a way too generous a sip. A confusing mixture of joy and rage runs through me.

“Well, Missy, care to elaborate?” she probes, looking at me attentively above her glass.

I sigh. “Any chance you’ll let this one pass by, for now? I really don’t feel much like getting into it.”

She scowls at me.

“At least not after just one glass.” I shrug.

“Whatever works for you. I just hope you’re fine.” There is genuine compassion in her voice.

“Let’s just put it this way: I’m not immune to him like I thought I would be, and I can’t just go on like this.”

“I would say this is by all means a first. That quick? You have feelings for him, don’t you?” We both know very well that this is a rhetorical question.

“I had to find the one person who is this emotionally unstable to get attached to.” I twist my lips. “He’s Prince Charming and King Henry VIII in one irresistibly hot body.”

“That bad, hmmm?”

“Worse,” I reply in defeat.

“And what now? Are we moping?”

“We most definitely are not. Now we go out and I get drunk.” I grin at her.