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She extended her hand to me. “So let’s start over.”
We shook.
“Are you okay with the new schedule?” She squeezed my hand a little. “It may seem unfair at first, but I’m trying to give everyone their date nights back that were lost during Chase’s pursuit of you.”
“Um . . . what do you mean? What about the schedule?” I tugged my hand back.
“Your date night doesn’t start until two weeks. Didn’t you see the schedule? I had Mable place it in your apartment.”
Are you kidding me?
“Oh. So I don’t spend time with him at all?”
“Well, you’ll see him at work. Perhaps you can go to lunch or do breakfast during that time.” She pulled out a tiny phone and handed it to me. It was white with a black four on it.
Oh God. Will this number always follow me around? Do we get freaking t-shirts and hats too?
“This is your new phone. It has an app for our schedule.” She pressed the screen and an image of her smiling face materialized with the words Calendar under her face. Shoot me in the head now, please. “All of our websites and contacts are on the phone, too.”
“Websites?”
“Wendy and Lucy didn’t tell you?”
“No. I guess not.”
“I run an alternative lifestyle blog. It’s a way for us to connect with others in our situation.” She smiled with pride. “It’s really fun exchanging stories and learning from other women all around the globe. Feel free to post something whenever you want. Just send it to me first for approval.”
“Umm. . .I’ll think about it.”
“Now, you need to remember that your therapist appointment is the last Thursday of every month. And please feel free to tell her anything.” She held her hand up to stop me as I began to talk. “Lucy said you wanted to use your own, but that’s just not possible. I mean, heavens, this situation can’t be made public to anyone. It would destroy Chase and me.”
I tensed. “You mean all of us, right? It’s not just you and Chase in this situation and surely you two aren’t the most significant. I’m not excited about any of my family or friends discovering this, either.”
“Oh gracious, of course you’re important.” She seemed far too cheery. “But, Chase and I have huge public reputations—”
“I’ll use my own therapist and gynecologist.” I stepped around her. “I’ll see them every month like you want, but I won’t have you or Chase telling me who I seek counsel from or choose to have examine my own body.”
“Jasmine, you have to understand that Chase and I are providing you with a great life.”
Now I really understand when people say, “My pimp hand is getting itchy.”
I turned to stare at her for a minute. Rage rose in me to the point where I had to run out of the hallway or I might consider slapping her. In the end, it wasn’t her who pissed me off. It was the constant Chase and I that kept escaping those full and perfect lips.
“I’m done discussing the therapist and gynecologist,” I said.
“Excuse me?” she hissed.
“I’ll follow your schedule and rules, but there will be some limits.”
“Well, then we need to talk to Chase because it’s intolerable for you to think you can just waltz in here establishing your own limits.”
I pointed to her. “You’re insane if you think I’ll just do whatever you say! I’m a grown woman—”
“I didn’t say you—”
“I’m not some glorified mistress that you order around!” My voice rose higher than I intended.
Oh my god. I have to get it together.
