Dr. D Spills the Tea

Call

I’d turned my phone off.

    Arguably, that’s a terrible decision but considering I was about to put my two weeks in with my current firm, there wasn’t much to lose now, was there?

    Still, eventually, I’d have to turn the thing back on.

    “Have you called your parents?” Phil asked, glancing at the device in my hand.  I’d been spinning it in circles in my palm nervously, deciding on whether I shouldn’t just keep it off for the time being.

    No doubt George was still blowing up my phone.

    I couldn’t help but wonder what bullshit he was spewing in my messages.

    “You could just stay offline a while longer,” Theo suggested, taking a swig of protein shake.  He had a towel lying across his shoulders, hair dripping wet, and he was, of course, shamelessly shirtless, sweats clinging to his waist.  I’d seen his body once or twice in passing but I never understood why he didn’t wear a shirt like Phil did.  Arguably, Phil had a comparably powerful body since he’d taken a liking to working out alongside his husband.  He just wasn’t as showy about it.

    “Is it George that you’re worried about?” Phil wondered, taking a seat across from me, reaching for my hand.

    I frowned at them, giving a nervous nod.

    “Ah, let me talk to him,” Theo offered with a wicked grin.

    My lips twitched upward at that.  Of course he’d suggest that.  “Thanks but I think this is a conversation I’m capable of handling,” I admitted, twirling my phone again.  “Just not right this moment.”

    Theo sighed and Phil gave me a worried look.

    “I’m fine, really,” I assured him, giving Phil’s hand a squeeze.  “Go shower.”

    Phil turned to look at Theo.  “You first.”

    “We could save water if we shower together,” Theo suggested.

    “Oh, could we?” Phil asked, unamused.

    “Think of the planet, Phillip.  There’s so many conservation—”

    “All of a sudden you’re interested in the planet, huh?  Is that why you’re drinking from a plastic bottle right now?”  He quirked a brow, doing a comical slow blink.

    Without missing a beat, Theo pointed out, “Plastic is recyclable, Phillip.”

    “If it weren’t for me, we wouldn’t even own a recycle bin, Theodore.”

    Theo smiled cheekily, leaning down to kiss him in on the cheek.  “What can I say, Phillip?  You’ve changed me for the better.”  Phil pushed at him playfully and Theo just chuckled, giving him a wink before sauntering out of the room. I watched, amused, noting how wide Phil’s smile was and, when his dark eyes moved to me, it shifted a bit.  Clearing his throat, raking his hand through his sweaty blonde hair, he mumbled, “What?” sounding self-conscious.

    “You two are so cute I just want to gag,” I laughed.

    Phil chuckled, ducking his head, and I noticed his cheeks take on color.

    “It’s because you two are like this that I think this will work, you know,” I told him, reaching out to squeeze his hand again.

    Phil’s eyes raised to me, smile widening.  “Yeah?”

    I hummed, rubbing the top of his hand with my thumb.  “I’m still a bit . . . apprehensive.”

    “I’m not supposed to pressure you,” Phil grumbled.  I got the gist that he was saying that more to himself than for my benefit.  I went to laugh at his nervous expression but when his eyes shifted up to mine and he took my hand in both of his, I almost see the sincerity dripping from every word as he said, “Diana, we have every intention of being great parents to our children.”

    Children.

    Multiple.

    I squeezed his hand, pressing my lips together.

    The contract was only for once child.  Singular.  But I already knew that was never their intention.  As successful as they were financially, they were ready to really settle in and build a family of their own.  And I had somehow become their surrogate of choice.

    Because, I was realizing, they trust me.

    Completely.

    Fully.

    And I found myself wanting to live up to their expectations.

    “I know you’ll both make great fathers,” I told him, just as sincere.

    His smile was like a reward and when he kissed my knuckles, I found myself smiling too.

    “We love you, you know,” he told me.

    We.

    I felt butterflies in my stomach.

    It was a weird sensation, one I wasn’t used to.

    I’d never felt that with George—then again, I’d probably never put much weight in what he thought of me at all.  Looking back, I hadn’t found much value in anything he had to say.

    “I love you too,” I assured him, aware that it was the truth.

    Phillip Echevarria was my best friend and, even if Theo and I hadn’t always been very close, I could still feel the ruffle of my hair, still hear him talking about how he’d refused to look for another surrogate.  Even if it was surprising, these men had chosen me to bear their children.

    No, it was more than that.

    This was a partnership.  We were talking about raising a child together which is a binding, lifelong commitment.

    “Honestly, I’m a little scared to sign,” I admitted, careful to keep my voice soft so Theo wouldn’t overhear.  "What if you regret choosing me?"

    “You know, for Theo there’s nobody else,” Phil sighed.

    I laughed.  “Of course there’s nobody else, Phil, you’re the apple of his eye.”

    “No, I mean for surrogacy.”  Oh, he was talking about me?  “Theo’s a family man, you know.”

    “I thought you were the family man,” I jibed, surprised by the turn of conversation.

    “Yes, well, I am,” Phil smiled, that deep dimple appearing.  Disarming was a good word for Phillip Echevarria—even as backwards as he was back in high school, he’d always had a way about him to get the people around him talking, comfortable.  “But Theodore has decided that he doesn’t just want a surrogate—he wants our children to have a mother.  Not a mother figure but an actual, viable mother.  We had five other capable, beautiful women who were willing to sign the same contract we presented to you but Theo nixed it every time.  None of them could match up to Diana.”

    “He’d never say something like that,” I insisted, scrunching my brow with disbelief.

    Phil’s hands slipped from mine, up to my forearm, massaging me gently.  “He trusts you.”

    “Well, he should,” I said, kind of huffy.  Why wouldn’t they trust me?

    “He does.  Theo’s not one to trust lightly, you know.  His circle is comprised of people who won him over years ago, in high school, a couple from college.  Everybody else he just considers affiliates.”

    “I’m your best friend, Phillip.  And despite that, Theo and I have never been close,” I reasoned, watching as his hands slipped over my other arm, massaging that one as well.  “This is relaxing but shouldn’t you be massaging your husband right now?”

    “And rile the beast?” Phil asked, quirking a brow.

    “Are you bragging right now?” I teased.

    He bit his lip.  “We’re hot and heavy, you know, but my body takes longer to bounce back than his does and after his workout, you’d think the man would be tired but that’s usually when he’s rearing to go.  I’d normally shower with him post workout but after last night?  No.”

    I just smiled.  “Rearing to go.  You make him sound like a bull.”

    “If the horn fits,” he shrugged, giving a wry chuckle.  I pushed at his arm playfully with my free hand and he made a pouting face.  “You owe me a sushi date.”

    “Actually, from what I recall, sushi was on me last time,” I pointed out.

    “Well, then I owe you a sushi date,” he said, leaning forward, kissing me on the cheek.

    I smiled at his obvious shows of affection.  “Theo won’t want sushi.  You know that.”

    “He’s not invited,” Phil said, giving me a smirk as he rose to his feet, heading out of the room.

    “That’s not nice,” I hollered after him.

    He just waved over his shoulder, probably off to “rile the beast”.  I felt myself smiling, even as I picked up my phone.  A mess.  Everything in New York City was a mess—the partnership, the engagement, everything I’d been working so hard toward had gone straight down the toilet and it was ridiculous but I just felt so relieved to be here, in my best friend’s kitchen, waiting for him to get ready to take me out and treat me to my favorite food.

    Spoiled.

    They were spoiling me, I realized.

    And it felt . . . nice.

    When was the last time a man cooked me breakfast?

    When was the last time I caught lunch with a close friend?

    When was the last time I called my father?

    The guilt I felt was immediate.  I'd definitely been neglecting my family lately.

    Biting my lip, I turned my phone back on.

    Messages.

    There were four messages from George, each worse than the last.

    “It wasn’t what it looked like—”

    That was his opener.

    In one text, he’d very tactfully stated that I was “overreacting”.

    But it was his last text where I found the zinger:  “You’ve always been a very reasonable woman, Diana.  I can’t imagine you would burn a bridge over a simple misunderstanding.”

    A true lawyer this one, through and through.

    I found myself laughing at this man’s audacity, noticing how he’d called four times.  To talk me down, I supposed.  To try to twist the story into something it wasn’t, convince me that I should ignore what I actually physically saw and simply believe the bullshit he was serving on a silver platter.  George is really a Class A narcissist, isn’t he?

    “Ah, you gave in, I see,” Theo said, pulling out a chair across from me.  Freshly showered, I could smell his shampoo which had something fruity about it.  Mango and coconutty.  I wondered if Phil picked out that scent since it was really nice.  “What did he say?”

    Blackening the screen, I just shook my head.  “It’s not worth repeating.”

    “He’s an asshole with a small d**k so, let me guess,” he said, resting his chin on his hand.  “It’s all your fault Diana, right?  He looks like the type to point at a woman any time something goes wrong.”

    An astute observation in regards to the man’s capabilities below the waist.  Admittedly, our s*x life had been . . . lacking for a while.  “It’s worse than that, actually,” I admitted, tapping my nails on the phone case.

    Something shifted in Theo’s expression as he read mine.  All the playfulness was gone and he pursed his lips.  “What did he say?”  Grave now, his tone was almost gravelly.

    I forced a smile but it was harder somehow, with him here staring at me.

    Serious.

    Green eyed gaze so intense.

    I was used to men giving me hard looks but never like this.  Normally the gaze meant we were in verbal combat, and usually in regards to an intense trial, but Theo—he’d become defensive for me.  About me?  I wasn’t sure how to take it since I’d never needed anyone to defend me in my life.

    Under my fingers, I felt my phone start buzzing.  Immediately dread swept through me.  I peeked at the name.  George.

    I definitely wasn’t ready—Theo swiped the phone from me and horrified, I watched as he answered it, pressing it to his ear.  “Hello?”

    My jaw went slack with shock.

    George must’ve asked who he was because Theo said, “Sorry, who is this?”  Then, “Ah, she did mention a fiancé last night.”  He smirked and I could only imagine what George was assuming.  I could hear that he was saying something back but couldn’t hear what.  “She can’t talk right now.”  Then, with a dark chuckle, he sat back against the seat. “She’s a little . . . busy.”

    I watched Theo, motionless.  Should I stop him from doing this?

    “Oh, I’ll let her know.  Maybe she’ll give you a call after,” Theo suggested.

    “After what?!”  I heard it that time, George’s strained shout.

    Another smooth chuckle from Theo and he hung up on George, setting the phone in front of me.

    “There.”

    There, he says.

    I just blinked slowly, still shocked.

    Theo looked satisfied now.  “I’m sure he regrets whatever he said to you.”

    “Theo, he’ll think I’m—”

    “Good,” Theo cut me off with a shrug, nonchalant.

    He’s so . . . nonchalant about everything.  “I . . . should I thank you?”

    “You know, this would’ve been more believable if you’d made noises in the background,” he chuckled.

    And for some reason, that made me laugh.  “Are we teenagers?”

    “Accomplices,” Theo wagged his brows.  He'd always been a jokester but I'd rarely seen this side of him.  Then, more seriously,  “Also, I brought this.”  He whipped out a black business card, setting it in front of me.  Matte black with deep gold lettering—for a moment I thought it might be his own card and went to roll my eyes until I saw the name.  “He’s a good friend of mine and he mentioned you two went to college together.  There’s an opening at his firm.”

    Brent Holdings Law.

    I picked the card up, shocked.

    Brent Holdings.

    It made me think of coffee and sweaters, locked away in the library together with books spread out between us—“I tutored him,” I recalled, scrunching my brow.

    “You always were a bookworm.”

    I went to call him a stupid jock, just as a force of habit when I noticed the way he was looking at me.  He looked . . . I mean, why would he wear such a hopeful expression?  Flustered, I accidentally crumpled the corner of the business card with my thumb, quickly forcing myself to focus on straightening it back out.  “I’ll think about calling him.”

    “He’s a really good guy, D.”

    Raising my eyes back up to his face, I frowned at him as it sunk in.  “You’re setting me up.”

    “It’s a good opportunity for you.”

    “I just broke off my engagement.”

    “And you need a job—”

    “I still haven’t signed—”

    “It’s sushi time!” Phil sang, breaking into the room, giving Theo a dirty look.  Theo rolled his eyes and Phil caught my hand, tugging at me.

    Theo frowned.  “I don’t like sushi.”

    “You’re uninvited, Theodore,” Phillip said, frowning back at him.

    “What?  Why?”

    “You don’t like sushi,” I pointed out, giving a shrug as I stood.

    “And it’s a girls’ night anyway,” Phil insisted, pulling me toward the front door.

    “You have a d**k, Phillip,” Theo pointed out.

    “You are a d**k, Theodore,” Phillip shot right back.

    I stuck my tongue out at Theo and he looked so annoyed as I kicked on some nude wedges Phil had apparently picked out for me, stumbling out the door after him.  I had on jeans and a soft white sweater and Phil had thrown on jeans and a white hoodie.  “Do we match?” I giggled, clambering into Phil’s jeep.

    He sighed.  “Once I saw that card, I knew he’d already set up a job interview for you and I know his hearts’ in the right place but right now is not the right time—”

    “It’s okay,” I said, taking his hand in mine.

    “But are you okay?” Phil asked, giving me such a worried expression.

    My chest ached.

    Fond looks.

    Worry.

    Concern.

    These men—both of them really care about me, don’t they?  Squeezing his hand in mine, I felt my bottom lip tremble and bit my cheek.

    I could handle criticism and harsh words but all of this kindness was a little overwhelming.

    “I’ll be okay,” I said, trying to be as honest as possible with my best friend.  “Just not today.”

    Phil nodded, putting the jeep in reverse.  “And that’s okay, Di.  It’s okay to not be okay.”

    With a slight nod, I turned to look out the passenger window, ignoring the burn of my eyes.

    It’s okay not to be okay.