~~*~~
After the FBI left, Merrick thanked God that he’d been able to stop what could have been a disastrous interrogation. He pondered what he should do next. He wanted to be with her, but at the same time, he worried about not being able to keep his mouth shut. He wished he could talk to the psychologist again and come up with a game plan for the next morning. He couldn’t imagine how there was anything the psychologist could say which would keep Bombshell from becoming upset about her real identity and the truth about how they’d met and the bullshit about the engagement.
Rather than get his car from the valet and drive aimlessly, he walked over to a coffee cart and ordered a hammerhead coffee. He needed to think. And he could use some extra energy.
He sat down at a bench near a fountain and took a sip of the espresso. Too hot. He pulled out his cell phone and remembered that he hadn’t called Joann back, as he’d promised. Shit. He placed the call, but it got voicemail.
“Joann, this is Merrick, sorry it took so long to call you back. Thanks for sending me the flyer, I appreciate it.”
That responsibility out of the way, his mind wandered back to the situation at hand. How would Bombshell react, after her chat with her psychologist? He slumped forward putting his head in his hands, feeling sick that he would soon be causing her more pain. She’s going to hate you for lying to her.
“You still here?” Merrick looked up and saw Doctor Armavir, Bombshell’s surgeon standing in front of him with a Frappuccino in his hand. “I thought we already released you’re girl?
Merrick stood quickly and shook the doctor’s hand. “She just left, I wanted to ask you a question.”
“Alright, but you only get two minutes, then I start charging you.”
Merrick smiled and took a moment to formulate his question.
The surgeon sat down on the bench and sucked some whip cream and said, “Ahh, life’s simple pleasures truly are the best.” He put the lid back on and set his drink down on the ground. He looked at his watch. “Ah, only ninety seconds left…”
Merrick spoke. “I want to understand how delicate she is.”
“That’s more
a question for Dr. Garcia, don’t you think?”
“I don’t mean, psychologically, I mean physically.”
The doctor examined Merrick’s expression and he felt himself blushing under the scrutiny.
“You want to know if it’s too soon to have intercourse,” said the doctor.
Merrick’s ears burned. That wasn’t exactly what he’d been thinking, but now that the question had come up, hell yes, he wanted to know.
“Would it hurt her brain if we had sex anytime soon? Could I break something?”
“You have to understand that the procedure we performed on her was about as minor as brain surgery gets—which is why she’s already leaving the hospital in less than twenty-four hours. Honestly, as long as you don’t bang her head against something while you do it, there shouldn’t be any problems.”
“Really?” Merrick couldn’t believe it. He felt like a school kid who’d just been informed that school had been cancelled because the whole class was going to Disneyworld.
“Really - it might even be good for her. Sex helps the body heal, or so some studies have shown. But, I can’t vouch for her emotional and psychological readiness. I suggest you run this question by Doctor Garcia as well. Just to be safe.”
While Merrick waited for his car, he called Doctor Garcia. He felt stupid asking people for permission to have sex, but he didn’t want to take any chances – no matter how badly he wanted to experience her, while she still was under the delusion that she loved him. He got her answering service. She was off duty. Did he want the doctor on call? He said that he didn’t and hung up.
When he got back to the hotel, he walked through the lobby and headed to the casino. Doctor Garcia stood at a craps table. She wore a slinky black dress with a scandalously high slit. She was throwing dice. The whole table erupted in cheers when they cubes stopped rolling. Merrick stood back and waited for her winning streak to end. He motioned to the pit boss to cut her off. She complained until she saw Merrick.
“Are you trying to stop me from taking you to the cleaners?” she asked, eyes glistening with excitement.
“You’re already taking me to the cleaners. I assume you received the twenty large credits?”
“Sure did.”
“Listen, doctor, I need to ask you a question,” he said as he guided her to benches in front of some slot machines.
“I’m off the clock, Merrick,” she said.
“I know, I’m sorry—but this is important.”