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I blink my eyes open. I lie on the chaise lounge in room 4B at Ma Maison. The white envelope resting on my chest contains details about the man who calls to me so strongly the universe picked the playlist with “Leaving Las Vegas”, the song that will always be Dylan McAlister’s song.
Dylan changed my life. He was my mentor, almost my maker, so-to-speak. We fell in love and yet two years later he still can’t commit. “Some day, Evie,” he says to me every time we meet up for a game or a long weekend, or a special event. “Some day I am going to slip a ring on that important finger.’”
“Right, Dylan,” I say, inhale and puff my cheeks out. “Look. I’m holding my breath.”
“You doubt me,” he says. “Don’t doubt me, Lucky Charm.” And he kisses me, and I giggle and and breathe. I breathe him in again because it’s so hard to let him go every time I see him.
I’m not going to push him into something he’s not ready to do. I’m also not going to sit around and wait for him, either. I visit his mom in Texas every few months but I don’t share that with him. My friendship with Rosemary will continue no matter what happens with Dylan and me.
Being an empath at Ma Maison hasn’t been a picnic but it’s paid a lot of bills and it’s made for an interesting ride, that’s for sure. And at the end of the day, using my empathic ability to help clients heal is my decision.
It’s my decision to embrace the thing that has existed in me forever. The thing that I was born into. The thing that was forged in the fire of crazy moms, mean dads, and bloody accidents. It’s a rollercoaster but it’s a life of service I will not refuse.
I can’t a take vacation right now. Can’t go to the lake house in Wisconsin. But I can’t help but wonder what kind of damaged man am I supposed to help this time? I pull out the packet of information contained in the envelope.
Ah. Him. The famous actor. Everyone knows him. What screwed him up? What demons lurk in his soul? My string of successes is unbeaten, yet with each positive outcome, tick-tick-tick I am closer to taking a fall. That much closer to encountering the man I cannot heal. The bent, broken, damaged man who is too much for me.
I slip the papers back in envelope. Stand up, run a hand through my hair, and leave the room. I pass Jay who’s still manning the front desk. I glance up at the clock. It’s been forty minutes. It could have been a week. “Madame Germaine busy?”
“Not for you,” he says, and gestures to the door. “Never for you.”
I make my way into her office, take a seat, and toss the open packet on her desk where it lands with a crisp thwack.
She hangs up the phone, her face scrunching in that way that makes her look like a pickle the handful of times I’ve turned her down “So?”
“Why can’t Scarlet or Lily help this guy?” I ask.
“His people specifically requested you.”
The envelope lies on the immaculate desk, the packet white and clean – unlike my profession.
Pristine – unlike my past.
Tempting – how I envision my future.
“He’s an actor.”
“Movie star,” She corrects me.
“Whatever. He’s in L.A. I’d bet the house his agent is the one looking to hire me. The actor might not even be on board with this.”
“The manager guides the actor’s career,” Germaine says. “He’s been with him for twenty years. The actor will do whatever the manager says.”
“What’s he looking for?”
“Hope.”
“Not the manager. What’s the actor looking for? He’s the one who’s broken.”
“Redemption, Evie.”
I sigh and tap the envelope on the pristine antique desk. “Aren’t they all?”
I’ll head to L.A. to do my best to tap into the psyche of a broken movie star and find the twisted, messed up core belief that shut him down. As per usual, I’ll give my all. I’ll push myself like I always do for my beautiful broken men to help him heal. But first – a girl needs to beautify.
I hit up the usual high end places for hair, nails, waxing. Undoubtedly my new client will give me clothing. Expensive, pretty dresses and jewelry. Chances are he’ll want to show me off to his friends and business associates. The guys usually enjoy that at the beginning, before we get down to doing the dark, dirty, gritty work.
But I’m not a child, and I don’t expect him to wave a wand and make all my teenage girl clothing wishes come true. Handsome Movie Star isn’t spending insane amounts of money to hire Dress Up Barbie. Handsome Movie Star is hiring a Healer.
