MICKI HAD A LONG DAY AHEAD of her and no time to come home in between meetings, work and the dinner party for Uncle Yank's birthday. With no alternative, she took the dress she'd bought for the occasion, zipped it into a garment bag and took it with her to work so she could change there. She arrived at the office by 7:00 a.m. to reschedule some appointments and leave a few notes for Amy before heading over to the doctor's office on Park Avenue to meet Damian.
She had knots in her stomach over the idea of discussing paternity tests and Damian's sexual relationship with another woman. She understood his need to have someone there for support, but after thinking things over and over last night, she'd decided she wasn't the right person for the job.
She turned the corner and found Damian already standing outside the door, leaning against a black iron handrail. In his jeans and light blue Polo collared shirt, he was the sexiest man on Park Avenue. In fact, he was one of the only men on this part of Park Avenue so early in the morning, which was a good thing because she didn't think she could handle this conversation in front of an audience.
"Thanks for coming," he said, walking toward her.
She gathered her courage as she launched right into the speech she'd prepared last night. "I completely understand you needing moral support and I want to be there for you. I really do. But this is just too much. I don't belong here and I'm really not comfortable sitting down with a doctor discussing how long ago you impregnated another woman." She forced the words out in a rush or she knew she'd never say them at all.
She was as much as admitting she had feelings for the man and that really wasn't something she'd ever wanted him to know. Not when he was incapable of reciprocating. "So now that you know how I feel, I can get back to the office."
Micki turned and started down the street, searching for the nearest taxi as she ran. She still hadn't made peace with her high heels and she wobbled more than once, turning her ankle painfully and destroying any hope she had for a dignified exit.
"Micki!" Damian called after her.
Thank goodness a yellow cab with its lights on rounded the corner. She waved. The car came to a screeching halt. At the same time she reached for the door, Damian caught up with her. She opened the door but he held it, preventing her from getting in.
"Micki, please. I just want to talk to you," he said, breathing heavily.
She swallowed but her throat was tight. "When I agreed to help you out I didn't know how hard it would be," she admitted, her heart pounding in her chest, proving her words with each heavy beat.
"I didn't realize either," he said softly, his breath warm against her neck.
"Hey lady, you getting in or not?" the cabdriver asked impatiently.
Micki turned to Damian whose gaze was soft and understanding. "Just sit in the waiting room and as soon as I'm finished, we'll talk"
Her head throbbed, her ankle hurt and her heart ached like mad. "I must be insane," she said more to herself than to Damian. She glanced at the cabbie through the open passenger's side window. "I'm sorry to have taken your time," she told him and slammed the door shut instead of getting inside.
"Thank you." Damian grabbed her hand and held on tight. "I already told you I can act like a spoiled son of a bitch sometimes." His lips turned upward in an embarrassed grin but his relief at having stopped her exit was palpable.
"Yeah, you did." But for some reason she was still standing by his side.
An hour later, he walked out of the doctor's office and insisted they grab a cup of coffee. She'd already touched base with Amy at the office and knew her 11:00 a.m. appointment had canceled, freeing up her time, so she agreed.
They settled into seats at Sara Beth's Kitchen and quickly placed their orders. Micki was grateful for the fresh, hot coffee but she wasn't much interested in her Danish.
Damian guzzled his caffeine, needing the fortification desperately. When he was finished, he placed his mug aside and met her gaze from across the small table. For several moments, he simply stared at her, unsure of what to say or where to begin.
He only knew he owed her an apology. Silence surrounded them and though it was morning-rush time, the restaurant was atypically quiet for a weekday. He'd brought her here because they had a lot to discuss and he didn't want to do it over the phone. Until she'd nearly bolted on him this morning, he hadn't realized how much he counted on her comforting presence and solid support.
In the instant she'd taken off down the street, he'd been forced to acknowledge that she was so much more than a friend who was holding his hand through a crisis. He didn't know how much more and at this moment he couldn't see the point in delving too deeply. He also didn't think she'd appreciate hearing he was coming to care for her deeply-not when another woman and her baby stood between them, as did his fucked-up life and the career he was still trying desperately to hang on to.
He dragged his chair closer, moving so he sat directly beside her. His thigh brushed her bare leg and he savored the warmth of her body heat. "I'm sorry this has been so hard for you."
"Professionally it's the right way to handle things."
"But like you said, this morning's appointment wasn't at all a professional request."
She shook her head. "Never mind that Friends stand by friends."
His gut churned uncomfortably at her casual use of the word.
"So what exactly did the doctor say?" she asked.
Her question forced him to focus. "Are you sure you want to hear about it?"
She nodded slowly. "I didn't want to be there for the discussion. I can handle hearing the news from you."