“Hey little girl is your daddy home? Did he go and leave you all alone? I got a bad desire, oh I’m on fire…”


Marie awoke the next morning because the bottom half of her body was aching. The plush bed was the only thing offering her any sort of tranquility. And she opened her eyes, expecting to see Jess in the bed across from her, still dozing off. But when she finally did open her eyes, her heart sunk into her throbbing gut.

“Fuck me,” she whimpered.

“I already did,”

Her head shot up like a cannon, as she wasn’t expecting an answer. And she immediately regretted it as the muscles in her legs cramped up, rebelling against any sort of unnecessary movement. Marco was in the adjoining bathroom, standing at the sink with a towel hung sloppily around his hips, with a razor at his neck, shaving away the stubble.

“How’re you feeling?” He grumbled, stretching his chin up as high as it would go as he slid the razor against his skin, moving deliberately as to not nick himself.

“Shredded,”

Marco paused and turned to look at her, “no one’s ever given me that response before.”

“You’ve got a monster cock,” Marie groaned, pushing herself up in bed. In that position it felt like every ounce of blood was pouring out of her, and she quickly checked the sheets to make sure that wasn’t the case. Thankfully, the sheets were clean.

“I have gotten that before,”

She glared at him and then looked at the clock. It was nearing late morning and she was embarrassed for even staying that long, “I didn’t mean to stay the night.” She swung her legs out and tried to stand up, using the bed for support. Her legs felt wobbly, but she stumbled her way across the room to get her purse.

“It’s okay,” he patted off his face and waked back into his bedroom, pulling open the dresser drawer to pull out a pair of boxer briefs. “I mean, I wasn’t really expecting you to leave last night,”

“Why not?” She bent over and lifted her purse off the ground, slinging it over her shoulder.

Marco hesitated and almost refused to answer until she shot him a quick glance. “I just meant that I figured you’d be sore…”

“Yeah well I’m not gonna lie, you did some damage…” She looked down at herself, taking a deep breath in as she was only in her bra and his underwear. “Where are my clothes?”

Marco whistled and pointed in the director of the lounge chair in the corner of the room. Marie groaned again, dropped her purse, and began moving for it, whimpering with each step. When she bent down to retrieve her clothes, she felt Marco place his hands on her hips, lips pressing to her neck.

“So is this your thing? Fuck and leave?” he smiled against her skin and ever so slowly ran one of his hands down between her legs.

She held onto his hand, “stop.”

“You weren’t saying that last night,” he smirked, biting onto her skin.

“I wasn’t torn to pieces last night. And I’m saying it now.” She pulled away from his grasp, and as her legs started to give out from under her, Marco gripped onto her elbow, helping her stay upright. “When a girl says stop, it means stop.”

“I’m aware,” he stared at her, keeping his hand in place on her elbow. “I’m just trying to keep you from face-planting on the hardwood floor.”

After slipping her clothes up over her body, Marie stumbled back to her purse, replacing it on her shoulder. “Listen, I’m fine. Thanks for a good night,”

It was hard looking at Marco, all wrapped up in the towel. Because despite all the discomfort, Marie couldn’t deny that last night had been fun. And when the night had started, that was all she wanted. She hurried out of his house and clutched at her arms once she made it outside. The morning air was still crisp and nipped at her skin as she walked back to the hotel. It wasn’t a particularly long walk, and when Marie got back in to her hotel room, her heart nearly dropped.

The sight of her father sitting across from Jess absolutely terrified her. And by the looks of it, Jess was just as terrified.

“Dad,” Marie mumbled, stepping further into the room.

Her father turned around to look at her. “Jessica tells me you’re out all night. What’re you doing alone in a strange town anyways?”

“I wasn’t alone,” she responded, adjusting her stance. The muscles along her inner thighs were starting to give, and she sat on the foot of the bed as nonchalantly as she could. “What’re you doing here?”

“Well I’m here for a medical conference, but I’m going to a charity banquet tonight, and when your mother told me you were in Montreal, I figured I’d invite you and Jessica.”

Marie flicked her eyes to Jess quickly, who was cringing at the sound of her full name. She then shook her head insistently, silently begging Marie to spare her the misery that would be the banquet.

“Um… Jess is going out tonight…”

“Well then it’ll be me and you. I’ll be here to pick you up around eight. Be ready. I’ve placed a dress in the closet for you,” he walked out quickly, closing the door behind him.

Once he was gone, Marie rubbed her hands against her eyes, sucking in a deep breath and then letting out a small whine. “He always drags me to these stupid events, like I actually want to go to them. There’s a reason I never stayed with him in New York.”

“But look at the dress, Marie. It’s gorgeous.”

“They’ve all been gorgeous. And everyone he introduces to me thinks they’re gorgeous also. And that’s just great, it’s great to be gorgeous.” Marie stood up and walked to the closet, pulling it open. She stared at the red dress with a slit up the leg.

“Then why don’t you just tell him you don’t want to go?”

“You don’t know what happens when I don’t go to the events he wants me at…”

“Well at least you had fun last night. It’ll make up for tonight being such a downer.” Jess smirked and laid back along her bed, “how’s Marco?”

Marie sat back down on the edge of the bed and grimaced, “big. Like almost too big,” she shot her eyes to Jess, who looked on with shock. “I said almost. It was good but,” she paused and chuckled in disbelief, shaking her head. “Let’s put it this way, if I never see Marco Scandella again in my life, that’ll be alright because I’m pretty sure I made a fool out of myself.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Jess smiled, clicking on the TV.

“You weren’t there. I embarrassed myself big time,”

“Then I’m gonna take a pass at him if I see him out on the town tonight.”

“You do you,” Marie willed herself off the bed and walked towards the bathroom. Jess could do whatever she wanted with Marco, it didn’t matter much to her.

Marie stepped into the shower, adjusting the water so it’d get warmer, and once it began to steam up, she entered the stream of water. Her muscles gave way and she set her hand against the tile wall, holding herself up as best she could. The pain she had felt earlier in the day was slowly turning into normalcy. She couldn’t think of another time when a one night stand had been so memorable. Granted there was some pain, but overall, the night had been good. What was even better was Marco hadn’t treated her like a child last night. He had treated her well and went slow with her, and although he got what he wanted, it wasn’t malicious.

She tilted her hair back and let the water drench it, squirting some shampoo in the palm of her hand. And now there would be more pain tonight, only not in the physical sense. Marie would put on the red dress and gold heels her dad had dropped off, and she’d stay by his side like the dutiful daughter he expected her to be. But on the inside, she’d watch pieces of her die as she was introduced to her father’s friends. They’d all have fine things to say about him; what a grand surgeon he was, and how good of a man he was. Marie would nod in agreement, but her mind was screaming that while he was a skilled surgeon, an amazing man, he was not.

They could say whatever they wanted about her dad, give him whatever awards they wanted to. But it wouldn’t change some things; not for Marie at least. While his colleagues got a professional version, Marie had grown up around the real version, and the real version wasn’t nearly as spectacular.

---

Marie stared at herself in the full-length mirror, smoothing out a wrinkle on her dress. With the way she was made up, there was no way her dad would have the chance to be disappointed. The room phone rang and Jess answered it, said a few words, and then hung up. They made eye contact through the glass, and Marie knew what it meant; her dad’s driver was downstairs waiting for her.

She sighed loudly and picked up her gold clutch, mumbling a woeful goodbye to Jess. The ride down to the lobby in the elevator wasn’t nearly long enough, and just as Marie was getting used to the seclusion, the doors opened up, exposing her to the rest of the lobby. She strode out, seeing the black town car parked right in front, and as she exited the hotel, the driver opened it up for her, allowing her the chance to slip inside.

“Are you fond of the dress?”

It was the first words out of her father’s mouth, and he hadn’t even been looking at her. She could’ve been in jeans and a ratty t-shirt, only she didn’t have the nerve to disobey him.

“It’s fine. How’s Lizzie?” It was more of a formality than anything to ask about her older sister. They’d never been particularly close. By the time their parents were headed towards an angry divorce, Lizzie had already been enjoying the college scene for a few years.

“She’s fine. All that matters, is tonight is for the Montreal Children’s Hospital Foundation. Many of my colleagues will be in attendance so please act ladylike. You are to smile for pictures with the other honorable guests, answer questions when they are asked, and talk about how much good the foundation does for the youth of Montreal.” He finally set his phone down and pushed it into his pocket. “And please only speak when you are spoken to,”

She nodded obediently. The only reason her dad was toting her along was so that his colleagues could dote on how much she’d grown or how pretty she was. Because in her father’s eyes, she wasn’t a person, she was just an accomplishment to show off. Marie stared out the window, trying to distract herself from everything her father had just said.

They arrived at the other hotel only twenty minutes later. The driver opened up the door, and Marie stepped out first, looking up at the red carpet they had rolled out. It’s not like there were any celebrities there, the carpet more likely represented that there was a classy event going on. Either way, Marie hated it. And she stood there until her dad stood next to her, leading her towards the building. Despite it being cold, her dad didn’t offer his jacket, so she shivered all the way to the doors, only to be scolded because of her reaction. They entered the hotel lobby, being led towards the banquet hall at the other end.

“Wild Bill, you son of a gun,”

Marie flicked her head to the right, as it was the first thing she heard upon entering the banquet hall. Despite the early hour, the hall was already swarming with people. She looked on at a man around her father’s age, but with a groomed gray beard.

“Little John, how’re you doing?” The two men shook hands and embraced each other’s shoulders.

“Oh I’ve been alright. This can’t be your little girl,”

“Sure is,” he turned to the side to invite Marie into the small huddle. “John, Marie. Marie, John Hitchcock; I served with him,”

Marie forced a pleasant smile and shook John’s hand. By that comment, Bill meant that they had fought together in Vietnam. Only they didn’t do too much fighting. Both surgeons, they were stationed at a MASH unit three miles from the front.

“Are you still in Chicago?” Bill asked, effectively cutting Marie out of the conversation.

“No, I’m at Johns Hopkins now. You still in New York?”

Bill nodded and set his hand down on Marie’s shoulder, “John, I’ll be back. Let me just make the rounds. Don’t want anyone thinking I skipped out on this,” they shared a quick laugh, and then Marie was following her dad through the crowd of people. “We’re going up to the mayor. I’d like it if you’d greet him in French,” It was just another way for her dad to use her. He didn’t speak French, so the next best thing was coerce his daughter into speaking the language for him.

With blinders on, Marie approached the Mayor of Montreal, putting another fake smile on her face. He was in the middle of a conversation with someone else, but her father urged her forward to interject.

“Excusez-moi, maire.” The Mayor turned around, and Marie blushed, not expecting him to leave his conversation. “Je suis Marie. Mon père ne parle pas francais… Docteur William Thatcher.”

The mayor broke out with a huge grin and reached for Bill’s hand, shaking it eagerly, “we are very happy to have you here, Doctor Thatcher.”

Marie smiled and backed up, feeling her job was done. Now, she’d only have to stand there until her dad was done speaking with him. Her eyes danced around the room, trying to figure out how many conversations she’d have to wait through until they could leave.

While only half listening, she heard the mayor say, “…meet Marco Scandella.”

Her head shot up, and she stared up at Marco as he had joined the conversation. He was standing on the other side of the mayor, and Marie choked back a breath as he shook her father’s hand.

“Mr. Scandella, this is my daughter Marie,”

She felt like she was going to be sick, but as Marco held out his hand, Marie placed hers in it, feeling like she was going to pass out when he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it quickly.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Marie,” he beamed.

She mumbled out some form of a response but wasn’t too sure it made sense. He was too good at this; acting professional and unassuming. How could he do it?

“Are you a doctor?” Bill asked of Marco. When it came to anything outside of the medical field, he seemed like an imbecile.

“No sir. I’m actually a hockey player. I was born in Montreal, and I donate to the foundation.” He flicked his eyes to Marie, “judging by your daughter’s introduction, you’re a doctor…”

“Yes, a thoracic surgeon.”

Almost not even hearing Bill’s answer, Marco smiled at Marie, “Your daughter speaks French very well, sir.” He paused and reached out his hand again for her, “puis-je vous offrir un verre?” Can I buy you a drink?

Marie gulped and stared at him, eventually forcing herself to look back at her dad. Although he didn’t know what Marco had said, she assumed that judging by Marco’s body language, he could tell he was asking her to leave the conversation. Bill waved his hand and got back into a conversation with the mayor.

Marco smiled and took a step forward, setting his hand down along Marie’s back and led her across the banquet hall to the bar. “You look very pretty,” he murmured into her ear, pulling out a chair for her. As she sat down, he asked the bartender for two drinks, and stood beside her, “how do you feel?”

“Fine,” Marie reached for the drink the bartender set in front of her. She took a quick sip and pulled it away from her lips. The bartender surely poured with a heavy hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me your dad was renowned surgeon?” He smirked and took a sip of his own drink, and then set it back down on the bar, leaning against the wood.

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” she flicked her eyes up to meet his, and then subconsciously, she crossed her legs.

“Why are you being so short with me? Not even twenty-four hours ago, we were having sex and I thought we were having a good time.”

“Well maybe that was a mistake. And don’t bring that up here; a lot of these people know my dad and I don’t want them to overhear and tell him,”

“You don’t sound like the girl I met a few days ago. That girl didn’t care what other people thought about her, she was just out doing her own thing.”

“That was before my dad showed up in town. There’s just some things you don’t do with your dad around,” she picked up her drink again.

“Like have sex with strangers,”

“Like talk about inappropriate things with men you barely know.” Marie sucked down the remainder of her drink. She was thankful that it gave her something to do as her dad entered the vicinity.

“Mr. Scandella, I see you getting acquainted with my daughter,” Bill grinned, setting his hand down on Marie’s leg. Without being entirely aware of it, she stared down at his hand.

Marco looked at her and then up at Bill, “yes. She’s very beautiful. We have a saying in Italian; dà il sole un motivo a brillare. She gives the sun a reason to shine,” he glanced back down at her and chuckled as she rolled her eyes.

“Wow, quite a cultured man. Speaking three languages, you should have a real job,”

Marie watched as the muscles in Marco’s jaw pulsed as he clenched his teeth. She shifted her legs, forcing her father to move his hand away.

“With all due respect sir,” Marco began diplomatically, “I am paid to be a professional athlete.”

“Oh well not as much as if you were working at an esteemed university. There’s demand for trilingual professors.”

“I make enough, Doctor Thatcher. The NHL pays me pretty well,”

Bill stared at him sullenly and set his hand on top of Marie’s shoulder, “if you’ll excuse us, Mr. Scandella. I’d like to introduce my daughter to some of my associates.”

Marie stood up as her dad forced her to do so. And when they turned away from the bar, she looked back at Marco. Her eyes pleaded with him for some refuge, but he was able to offer none as Bill forced them into a new conversation.

Notes

"I'm On Fire" by Bruce Springsteen.

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