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It wasn’t age that limited his activities recently. At sixty-seven, his voracious sexual appetite has shown little sign of diminishing. And after his physical performance could no longer keep up with his vibrant imagination, he started to supplement it with increasing doses of Viagra and other pharmaceuticals. Even the suicide of his best friend—after Jeremy found his wife willingly bound and gagged in Simon’s bed—hadn’t been enough to deter his sexploits. That took the #MeToo movement, which put the fear of God into Simon. Especially after the incident with that nineteen-year-old groupie, Brianna. The bruising around her neck was an accident. But it still cost him three million dollars in hush money and forced him into treatment for his sex addiction. The whole unpleasant episode eventually led him to Holly and her psychedelic therapy. And finally, perhaps, a cure.
But at this moment, Simon isn’t lazing on his deck or reminiscing about his red room. Instead, he’s sitting in his living room along with five other members of his tribe on the blue velvet chairs which cost thousands of dollars each and took six months to arrive from Italy. Simon hadn’t called this clients-only meeting, but he did offer to host after Reese suggested it. After all, he feels closer to the tribe than he does to his own family, although it’s not much of a comparison since he is estranged from his few remaining relatives.
Judging by the glum faces surrounding him, the others are as distressed as he is by the bombshell JJ has just dropped on the group.
A scowl is screwed onto Baljit’s lip. Simon has always found her facial features too severe for his taste, but it hasn’t stopped him from fantasizing about how she might look in a leather mask with only chains wrapped around those generous breasts and hips of hers. He drops his gaze to the ground, as Dr. Danvers taught him, to avoid sexualizing the woman again.
“What do you mean Elaine is planning to go public?” Baljit demands of JJ. “How?”
“How does anybody go public these days?” JJ cries. “Through social media. Plaster it across multiple sites.”
Even without JJ’s thick eyeliner, fake breasts, and designer outfits, Simon would still have been attracted to the tiny heiress. He has always been a sucker for petite Asians. But it doesn’t make up for the way she treated him last month after she came over to his beach house for dinner. To storm out like she did, over a few harmless comments he had made about the pleasure of being chained? And then to completely ghost him afterwards? It was a total overreaction. He was a little surprised she’d returned to his home today for the group meeting. Maybe she thought there would be safety in numbers.
“Why would Elaine do that?” Salvador’s voice cracks.
JJ glances at the others with an almost conspiratorial air. “Elaine told me that Dr. Danvers touched her inappropriately while she was under,” she says in a hushed voice.
Reese grimaces. “In the middle of a group session? Elaine actually believes that?”
It seems to Simon that the no-nonsense attorney lives in genderless business wear, but he has often picked up on an unconsciously sensual vibe—a repressed sexuality in her that he would love to set free. Again, he looks away. But it’s not necessary. He’s focused solely on her arguments today.
“Elaine thinks Dr. Danvers touched her another time, too,” JJ says. “During a previous ketamine session, when she apparently gave Elaine that valium-like medicine.”
“Midazolam,” Liisa offers.
“That’s the one.”
“Why does that matter?” Baljit demands.
“Midazolam often induces brief memory loss,” Liisa says in the know-it-all tone that Simon finds so irritating. “Sometimes even for the time period right before it was administered.”
“And we’re supposed to believe what?” Reese points a finger at JJ. “That Dr. Danvers is so desperate to molest Elaine that she uses psychedelics to take advantage of her in the middle of group therapy and then wipes her memory clean afterwards?”
Simon imagines being cross-examined by Reese on the stand. He doesn’t know what kind of lawyer she is but bets she would be a formidable opponent in the courtroom.
JJ taps her chest, her bracelets zooming down her arm. “Hey, I’m just the messenger,” she says with a laugh.
“Why did Elaine confide in you?” Baljit asks.
JJ shrugs. “Maybe because I’m the only one who called her after she no-showed for group therapy?”
Baljit turns to Liisa. “You’re still a therapist, aren’t you? How do you reach someone with those kinds of paranoid delusions?”
Simon finds Liisa tough to read. The middle-aged psychologist is arguably the quietest member of the group. He doesn’t know many Finns, but he has heard they are a stoic bunch. Liisa usually speaks up only to establish her intellectual superiority or to question Dr. Danvers’s approach. Simon realizes he might be biased against Liisa because she comes across as so asexual. But he has softened to her after she shared her trippy conversation with her dead mother. Maybe she is more human than he assumed?
“How do we know that nothing happened between them?” Liisa asks.
“Come on!” Salvador groans. “You can’t actually believe something did?”
“It’s happened before.”
Simon whips his head toward her. “With Dr. D?”
“No, not that I know of,” Liisa says. “But a few years ago, a renowned research group in Canada was doing a major study on using psychedelics in PTSD. Some of the subjects in the study later came forward with claims of inappropriate touching, sexual harassment, and even sexual relationships with the research therapists. Some of the allegations were proven to be true. A few were even caught on tape.”
“No way,” says Simon, who’s no stranger to using substances to help set the mood in the bedroom. “There’s not a fucking chance that Dr. D is molesting Elaine or anyone else. With or without roofies.”
Baljit glances at him with a biting grin. “And you of all people should know.”
