It was day two of "Don Juan's" ten-day treatment when he looked out of his window and saw her. The sunlight played off of the reddish highlights of her hair, making her look almost enchanted. She was seated alone on the grass, a book in her hands.
"I may have been a bit hasty before," he said to himself. "One more conquest." A knock on his door pulled his gaze from the young woman – Dr. Mickler walked into the room.
"Morning," he said politely.
Juan smiled. "Good morning, Don Octavio. The view is beautiful this morning, is it not?"
"The view?" Dr. Mickler asked, approaching Juan's window. "Did they do something different to the lawn?" He spotted the woman. "Oh, I see," he chuckled.
"Are your guests allowed to mingle with each other, Don Octavio?"
Dr. Mickler smiled. "Planning a romance?"
Juan frowned. "I love but one – you know this."
"You're right. I apologize. I wouldn't suggest any…conquests."
"Conversation then?"
"Conversation is fine." Dr. Mickler studied the young woman for a moment. "I've never seen her before."
Juan put on his hat, sorely missing his mask. "I shall see you this afternoon, Don Octavio. Is someone to keep watch over me while I'm outside?"
"There are staff members on the grounds, yes."
Juan nodded, then left the room. He made his way outside, the females of the staff swooning as he passed them. Once out in the sun, he smiled and made his way over to the young woman. He was a few steps away when he noticed her tears. He could have said any number of things to get her attention – however, he was very aware of where he truly was, and chose his words carefully. Words of passion were not called for in this situation.
"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice soft.
The young woman looked up, expecting to see one of the male orderlies – though she knew of none with an accent. Of course, she was pleasantly surprised by Juan. "Yes," she said, sniffling. "I'll be fine, thank you."
Seeing the redness surrounding her green eyes, he frowned. "May I join you?"
"Me? Uh…I don't think that I'm very good company at the moment."
Juan was insistent. "You look very lonely. May I?"
Wiping at her eyes, she replied. "Knock yourself out." His attire didn't shock her in the least – she too was very aware of where she was.
Before sitting, he bowed. "I am Don Juan DeMarco." He took her hand and let his lips gently brush her skin. He then sat down next to her.
"Don Juan, huh?" she asked. "World's greatest…" She smiled, unable to complete her sentence.
"You have heard of me?" He seemed pleased.
"Oh, sure," she said, playing along. Nobody had been very cordial to her and she was valuing the human contact. "So, um, what are you here for?"
"Some do not believe that I am who I say I am. They wish me to be someone else." He paused a moment. "You have not told me your name."
"Oh, sorry," she said, feeling somewhat rude. "I'm Serina McAllister."
Juan smiled. "Serina. A beautiful name. What has brought you to Don Octavio's villa?" Serina looked a bit confused. Juan abandoned his fantasy for a moment. "Dr. Mickler's 'hospital.'"
Serina looked down. "Nothing. Well…something, but nobody will believe me."
"I understand that problem – however, I assure you that I shall believe whatever you say."
"Really, I don't want to bother…"
"What has caused such breathtaking eyes to look so sad?"
He's good. Well, if he was willing to listen, she'd tell him. "Last week, I was away on a business trip. I wound up coming home early, unbeknownst to my fiancé. I found him in bed with his secretary and publicist." She waited for a response, but none came. "Sounds like a really predictable movie of the week, huh? I didn't believe it myself, actually."
"Did you wish to die?"
"What? No. No, Trevor wasn't worth anything like that."
Juan looked concerned. "Then why are you here?"
Serina looked ashamed. "This is the part that nobody believes. Trevor…he had me put in here."
"I do not understand."
"Yeah, well," she said, tears coming to her eyes again, "that makes two of us."
"Do not burden your eyes with tears, Serina. A woman's eyes should never have to be so tormented."
"No?" she asked, almost wanting to laugh.
"No." Juan moved closer to her. He cupped her chin in his hand. "You have been wronged by the one that you love – I can think of nothing worse. A beautiful woman, such as you, should not be treated in such a way. She should be worshipped…loved."
"No wonder they have you in here," Serina said, her heart rate rising. "They're probably trying to prevent your way of thinking from spreading."
Juan smiled. "Women are capable of making the strongest man weak with love and passion – yet most men treat them as though they are nothing more than an object."
Serina's tone became slightly sarcastic. "But, Don Juan, you are a notorious lover, surely you realize how this sounds coming from you."
"I have made love to many women, yes, but I never used a single one of them. I never made them feel anything but desired and beautiful, which each of them was. Every woman is beautiful."
"So, you're eternally horny and…"
"Please, do not get the wrong idea. I make love, Serina. I do not simply…fornicate."
"Yes, well, it's all the same. Love 'em, leave 'em." She shook her head. "I'm nothing more than a living, breathing cliché today."
"I have offended you. I apologize."
"I don't know you well enough to judge you. I'm bitter and I'm sorry."
"I understand." Wanting to change the subject, Juan asked, "Do you see Don – Dr. Mickler?"
"I don't see anyone."
"What?"
"I was put here so I wouldn't interfere. No therapy, no meds. I'm just…out of the way."
Juan looked very concerned. "Have you told no one?"
"Oh, I've told," she said, "but money speaks louder than I do. Trevor pays well."
"I will talk to Don Octavio, he will…"
"Use your time for your treatment." Serina got up. "It's not your mess."
"I want to help you."
Serina looked at Juan, tears falling. "Why?" She turned and walked away, returning to her room.
***
Author's Note: I have more – shall I continue?