CHAPTER EIGHT
Sharona awoke with a smile on her face. Next to her, Adrian was snoozing peacefully, a small smile planted on his own face. What is he so happy about? she asked herself, watching the detective's chest rise and fall with his steady breathing.
After a couple of minutes, Sharona decided that it was time to drag herself out of bed. But first, she had to do something about her numb left hand, which was still entwined with Adrian's.
With the fingers of her right, she carefully attempted to pry the lifeless appendage from his grasp. This took several minutes, but finally, she succeeded in freeing herself. Examining her hand, Sharona noticed that her skin was stark white from where Adrian's flesh was pressing into it. She flexed her fingers slowly then gently shook her wrist back and forth.
Sheesh! You'd think his grip would've loosened a little! she thought, laughing softly as she massaged her hand and digits. Once she got the blood circulating again, she pushed aside the blanket and stood up.
She observed Adrian stir when her body left his side, but he remained sleeping.
This is probably the best he's slept in years, she speculated, turning to her alarm clock to see the red numbers flash 11:05.
Sharona, on the other hand, had had a very restless morning, but she tossed and turned mentally, not physically. She lay awake for hours, trying to will herself into slumber, but her mind would simply not shut down. Not only that, but the only thing that her mind would focus on was her bedmate. This was no big surprise, of course, considering how close the two literally were.
And when she finally did manage to fall asleep, the blonde had dreamed about none other than Adrian Monk. Furthermore, despite the fact that she almost never remembered her dreams, she could recall her most recent one in such vivid, minute detail that it was a bit frightening.
She and Adrian were sitting on the sofa in her apartment, she in a long, sparkly, black dress, and he in a navy blue suit. They were sipping champagne, staring seductively into each other's eyes over the rims of their glasses. After a long period of relaxed silence, Adrian set his glass down on the coffee table and stood up, removing a small, velvety box from his pants pocket.
Monk knelt down on one knee and lifted the lid, holding it up to her. "Sharona,' he began, his eyes gleaming with joy, "Will you marry me?"
The nurse's hands flew to her mouth, and happy tears rolled down her cheeks. "Yes, Adrian! Yes!" she cried, squealing with delight as she jumped up and pulled him to his feet.
Adrian slid the beautiful diamond ring onto her finger, and she rewarded him with a passionate kiss. When they broke apart, the detective let out a heavy sigh. "I'm so glad you accepted, Sharona. I was afraid you might turn me down."
His fiancee scoffed in mock disbelief. "Oh, please. Like I'm really gonna pass up the opportunity to marry a gorgeous, wonderful man like you." With that, she pulled him into another zealous embrace.
For the next four hours, the couple cuddled on the sofa and talked about anything and everything, until they fell asleep in each other's arms.
Sharona grinned as she brought her fingers to her lips. She could still "feel" his kiss. 'That dream seemed so real, a little too real. But it was so wonderful . . . Uh-oh. I'd better do something to get Adrian out of my head.
Pushing herself off the bed, the blonde made her way over to her clothes closet. By the time she finished selecting the day's wardrobe, her wrist had begun to throb. "Damn," she muttered, shutting the dresser drawer. She would have to take two capsules of aspirin.
Sharona hadn't needed any painkillers since she'd left the hospital. Even when Adrian had hugged her too tightly, the pain had subsided relatively fast. That's weird. If I sprained it so badly, like the doctor said, then why hasn't it hurt that much? I mean, I haven't got that much tolerance for pain.
Her gaze was drawn back to her sleeping friend, and suddenly, it came to her. When she was thinking of Adrian, her pain seemed to disappear. But when she was focused on other things, like just now when she was trying to decide on an outfit, the pain returned.
It's like Adrian has the power to heal me or something . . . Oh, yeah, sure. She rolled her eyes. He may be pretty damn phenomenal, but he's no, well, phenomenon! That doesn't even make any sense . . . Still, he does have a pretty strong effect on me . . . I think I should get that aspirin now. Not just for her wrist, but for the headache that was coming on.
Picking up her clothes, she walked to the bathroom and flipped on the light switch with her elbow. Placing her garments on top of the hamper, Sharona headed over to the sink to retrieve the bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet. She poured herself a cup of water, placed the capsules onto her tongue, and chased them down with the cool liquid.
Might as well take a shower now, she decided, replacing the bottle on the shelf. She had almost shut the cabinet door when she paused. On second thought, I'll take a bath. Can't remember the last time I had one of those. Satisfied with her idea, the blonde pulled the small door back open and this time removed a slender, pink container labeled "Bubble Bath".
While waiting for the tub to fill and the bubbles to foam, she sat down on the edge and watched as the hot water flowed into the basin, splashing against the white porcelain. This activity, however, failed to provide a great enough distraction, and in fewer than thirty seconds, thoughts of you-know-who were starting to invade her mind again. Sharona needed another diversion, and fast. "I have a good idea," she proclaimed.
Leaving her spot, she went into the living room and returned a few moments later with her walkman. Setting the headset down on a floor tile, she shut off the water and began to disrobe, discarding her vestments right where she shed them. Undressing proved a bit difficult due to the splint restricting movement of her right hand, but she managed to get everything off in due time.
Before getting into the tub, Sharona turned off the lights. She wasn't in total darkness; the window shade was pulled down, but the slits still allowed sunlight to stream through. "Perfect," she declared
Kicking her shorts aside, the blonde climbed in, drawing the shower curtain closed. She sat down at one end and stretched her legs out. Reaching over, she untangled the chord of her headphones and slipped them on. With a contented sigh, she rested her arms on the sides of the tub, letting her injured wrist dangle over the edge.
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Adrian coerced his eyes open and sluggishly sat up, leaning his back against the headboard. He saw the empty space next to him and frowned. Where's Sharona? Looking down, he noticed that the fingers of his right hand were still curled up. While he massaged them, Adrian fondly recalled the dream he had had that morning.
It was the day of his marriage to Sharona. Everything was perfect: the flowers, the cake, the weather.
The wedding march commenced, and Sharona soon appeared at the foot of the nave. The second Adrian laid eyes on her, his heart started pounding madly in eager anticipation.
Her golden blonde hair glistened in the sun, her curls blowing in the wind, brushing against her face.
As the bride walked approached in her long, white dress, her soon-to-be-husband could do nothing but stare, completely captivated by the exquisite sight advancing towards him.
When the nuptials began, Adrian didn't hear a single word the minister was saying. In fact, the man had to call his name several times before getting a response. Sharona just laughed, smiling lovingly at the groom.
Adrian regained his composure and the ceremony continued, with both reading their own vows.
It then came time to exchange the rings. With a shaky hand, Monk placed the gold band safely around her finger, and was surprised to find that Sharona's hand was trembling even more than his.
His excitement increased tenfold when the minister said those six wonderful words. "You may now kiss the bride"' The sentence was barely out of his mouth before Adrian was doing just that, his arms wrapped tightly around his new wife's body.
Adrian raised his hand to his mouth. He could still "feel" her lips against his. Smiling, he stood up and got to work making the bed.
Placing his pillow at the opposite end of the mattress, he reached for Sharona's. As soon as he lifted it, he encountered the photograph that she had placed there the night before. He carefully took it in his hands and admired it. "Benjy," he stated knowingly. "He really is a smart kid. I'll have to thank him the next time I see him."
Still smiling, Monk lightly pressed his lips to the female's image.
He knew this was a promising sign, Sharona storing the picture beneath her pillow for safe- keeping. It meant that the photo was precious to her.
Adrian's smile broadened. He would tell her his feelings today; there was no doubt about it.
Down the hall, Sharona was also covered in goose pimples, though hers were caused as much by cold water as by warm, fuzzy feelings for her best friend. After half an hour, her time of peaceful relaxation had come to an end.
Removing her earphones, the nurse leaned over the side of the bathtub to turn the music off. She unplugged the drain next, and, holding onto the wall for support, forced her limp, shivering body upright. Tugging the shower curtain aside, she emerged from the tub and began to dry herself off.
Just as she started on her arms, the door swung open, and the lights came on. Taken by complete surprise, Sharona shrieked and dropped the towel.
In the doorway stood Adrian, with one foot still on the carpet in the hallway.
The detective gasped when he caught sight of her. But instead of apologizing and immediately bolting from the room, he just stood there, motionless, as if his feet were glued to the floor.
His naked assistant appeared to be stuck to the floor as well. The only part of her that was moving was her mouth, though no sounds were coming out. After several failed attempts, she finally managed to speak. "A-A-A-Adrain," she stammered, "C-Could you go . . . away . . . please?" she begged in a timid voice.
Adrian did not adhere to her wishes. He wanted to, but his body simply would not allow it.
Sharona's face flushed. Um, Sharona? the voice in her head addressed her, You know that purple heap on the floor? Well, you might wanna bend down, pick it up, wrap it around yourself, and get the hell out of here! . . . Then again, you might not. All right. But you should at least use your arms to cover the important parts, even though it is a little late now. And he does seem to be enjoying the view of the full monty. So why not let him look for as long as he wants? . . . Damnit, Sharona! Do something!
But all she could do was shut her eyes. Oh, that's brilliant, Sharona. Shut your eyes.
A few feet in front of her, a different set of eyes remained wide open. Slowly, Adrian's gaze drifted from her face, to her chest, and kept going south. During his visual exploration, Monk began to feel a little funny in his nether regions, though he wasn't entirely aware of what was going on. Meanwhile, an oblivious Sharona was trying without success to convince herself that her boss was no longer in the room.
After admiring the bright red polish coating her toenails, the detective had now studied every inch of the front of her body.
"A-Adrian, please go away." Tears of humiliation had formed and were threatening to fall at any given moment. "Please, Adrian!" she pleaded more insistently, finally forcing her lids back.
Something immediately drew her attention. At that very instant, Sharona's limbs regained their mobility and she reached down, seized her towel, and hastily wrapped it around her body. She then marched to the door, pushing past the dazed man on her way out.
Upon hearing a slam, Adrian jerked back to reality. Still feeling kind of funny, he glanced down and discovered the reason for Sharona's hurried departure.
Behind her closed - and locked - door, his assistant was pacing frantically in front of the bed. "I can't believe I didn't lock the door!" she cried, throwing her hands in the air. "Hell, I didn't even close it! But if I had just left the damn lights on, he'd have known I was in there, and none of this would've happened!"
The blonde lost her grip on the towel and it fell to the ground, but she didn't bother to pick it up. It doesn't matter if I'm covered up now, she thought, then reconsidered. Unless Adrian can see through the walls. They are pretty thin . . . Oh, come on, Sharona! Quit being ridiculous!
"Quit being ridiculous! My boss just saw me naked! And he got excited, turned on, aroused!" she wailed, plopping down on the perfectly-made bed.
Hello! He can hear you! she reminded herself.
Sharona took a deep breath and lowered her voice. "All right, let's not be overly dramatic about this. It's not the end of the world. Just get dressed, go back out there, and pretend like nothing happened . . . Oh, right. It's really gonna be that easy. I can't just-"
Oh, for heaven's sake, Sharona! Put some damn clothes on before you freeze to death! her inner voice interrupted, trying to talk some sense into her.
Gradually rising, the nurse scanned the room, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "Okay, where are my . . ." She sighed as she realized she had left her change of clothes in the bathroom.
There's no way I'm gonna go get them. He might still be in there. Besides, it's not like I'd wear that outfit now anyway. Low-cut tank top and push-up bra? Not happening. Adrian had one free show. He's certainly not getting another. He doesn't . . .
Her eyes fell on the lamp the bedside table. "I thought I left that on." Taking a step closer, she reached under the shade and fiddled with the knob. "Crap. It burnt out."
Exhaling sharply, she went over to the closet and examined the selection. "Where's a sweat-suit when you need one?" she grumbled. "I'll have to add that to my shopping list. Item numero uno: sweat-suit, preferably one two sizes too large. Right below that: new light bulb."
Finally, Sharona removed a dark pink sweater and black denims, her least-revealing shirt and loosest pair of tight-fitting jeans, respectively.
After dressing, she sat down to fix her hair and apply her make-up. She did nothing special with her hair; she simply brushed it and left it down, tucking a few strands behind her ears. She couldn't have done much with it even if she'd wanted to. Hairstyling involved two good hands, not one. As for her make-up, she took the subtle approach, using only one coat of foundation and omitting lipstick and eye shadow altogether.
When she finished, Sharona closed her compact and made her way to the door. She unlocked it then hesitated, her fingers closed around the knob. Come on, Sharona. You can face him. Remember: It's not the end of the world. With one last deep breath, she opened the door a fraction of the way and cautiously poked her head out.
The blonde first looked in the direction of the bathroom, half expecting Adrian to be exactly where she had left him. But such was not the case. Stepping out into the hallway, she started for the kitchen.
And there he was, sitting at the table, eating a piece of toast.
"H-Hey, Adrian!" she called, managing a small smile.
Her boss didn't look up. "Hi, Sharona," Adrian whispered. He pushed a loaf of bread towards her. "Want some?"
"No, thanks. I'm not hungry," she answered quietly as she slid into the seat across from him.
After several moments of absent conversation, Sharona thought of something to say that might lighten the mood a little. "You know, the, um, the bathroom incident reminds me of a joke I heard on a TV show the other day, The Nanny. You ever see that show?" she asked, hoping that he would look at her.
"No," Monk replied, shaking his head and taking another bite, his eyes still fixed on the crumb-covered plate.
"Oh. Well, anyway, Fran says to Maxwell, her boss: 'You give me a raise, and I'll give you one'." Sharona waited for him to respond, but he said nothing. "I-I thought it was sorta appropriate, you know, 'cause you gave me a raise last month . . . Well, granted, a very different kind of raise . . . A-And I guess yours was a little late in coming, but still . . . Uh, not-not 'coming' as in . . . Oh, my God. Okay, you know what? I'm gonna shut up now."
Adrian had only heard the first part of the joke. He had devoted more attention to the sound of her voice than to what she was actually saying.
And now that she had stopped talking, it was his turn. Clearing his throat, he set down the half-consumed piece of toast and slowly brought his gaze to meet hers. "Sharona, I'm really sorry, that, um . . . that I walked in on you. I should've knocked."
"Well, it's my fault. I left the door open. And the lights were off, so how were you supposed to know I was in there?"
"That doesn't matter. I still should've knocked. I just barged in. You kept asking me to leave, and I wouldn't. I just . . . kept looking. I'm sorry. And I didn't . . . I didn't just look at your face, Sharona," he admitted sheepishly, his cheeks taking on the color of cherries.
Adrian had made sure to choose his words carefully. He didn't want to apologize for looking at her; he wasn't sorry about that. However, he was remorseful that he had looked without her permission. He felt as if he had taken advantage of her.
"I figured your eyes must have wandered," the nurse teased.
The detective was surprised at her reaction. "You're not upset?"
"No. I mean, I was a little upset . . . Okay, that's an understatement. I totally freaked out. I'm sure you heard me. But it was really embarrassing."
"You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Sharona," Adrian stated with conviction. "You're beautiful. You look . . . amazing."
His compliment rendered her speechless. She couldn't even get the words "thank you" out of her mouth.
But before silence could take over once again, Sharona regained her voice. "You fell asleep so fast last - this morning. You zonked out like this," she remarked, snapping her fingers on the word "this" to demonstrate. "You must've felt a lot better."
"Well, I feel okay when you're around. Sharona, will you make me a promise?" Adrian requested, his voice grave.
"What kind of promise?"
"Promise me you'll never quit again, no matter what. I realized something. I-I realized that-that my life . . . rests in your hands. Without you, I would have no reason to live. Nothing would matter to me anymore. I . . . I would emotionally cease to exist."
As she processed this, a smile crept onto her face. "You know, as terrifying as that is, being depended on like that, -it's just as exciting. So, I promise, Adrian. I promise I won't quit again. Ever. And I'm sorry for all those times that I did."
"You always came back, though."
"I couldn't stay away. I don't what I'd do without you, either." All of a sudden, Sharona felt very vulnerable, as though she were once again exposed to him.
Sensing her discomfort, Adrian changed the subject, much to her appreciation. "So, what are you doing today?"
"Oh. Well, I've, uh, I've got a bunch of errands to run. You can come with me, if you want."
Adrian was tempted to accept his assistant's offer, but he knew he needed a good deal of time to plan his confession. "No. I think I'll stay here. I have some cleaning . . . and some thinking to do. I think best when I clean, so . . ."
"All right. Then, um, I'm gonna call Benjy before I go," she said, getting up from her chair.
Monk finished his toast and brought his plate to the sink.
"Fine, Benjy. Five o'clock. You do your homework? . . . All of it? . . . Okay. Bye." Replacing the receiver in its holder, Sharona turned back to her boss. "I'll be home by five thirty."
"I'll have dinner ready when you get back," he told her, returning the clean plate to its former location.
"Oh, you don't have to do that. I'll make dinner."
"It's okay, Sharona. I'll do it. You do enough for me." He smiled at her, and she averted her eyes, quickly striding from the room.
When she came back, she found Adrian standing apprehensively by the open front door. "What's wrong? Oh, did you change your mind? I'll wait for you if-"
The detective silenced her by suddenly grabbing her shoulders and planting a kiss on her cheek. "Have a nice day," he mumbled before disappearing around the corner.
Sharona lingered in the doorway for a moment, touching her cheek. Her body temperature seemed to have risen a few degrees.
I will now, was her parting thought.
