Page 100 of None Of Your Business

Rowan was never supposed to be part of my Tuesdays. She was never supposed to be in this room at all. What started as an unusual concession has become a routine so established that there’s a packet of her favorite sour candy in the second drawer.

There’s also a purple pen on my desk that isn’t mine.

And yesterday, I discovered she’d put googly eyes on my stapler.

I check the clock. It’s six.

She isn’t coming.

An uncomfortable pressure settles behind my ribs.

I’m about to look over my notes when Rowan backs into the observation room, using her ass to push the door while balancing two coffees and a white cardboard box against her chest.

My mood changes so quickly it would be humiliating if anyone were here to witness it.

“There.” She kicks the door shut. “Handled beautifully.”

She’s wearing faded jeans, battered boots, and an oversized green sweater that slips off one shoulder beneath the strap of her bag. Her hair is twisted under a baseball cap, though several strands have already escaped and curl around her cheeks.

“What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, Shrink Wrap.”

“Shouldn’t you be at the gallery?” I ask, folding my arms.

“Everything is done. Miracles do happen.”

“You’re completely finished?”

“Completely finished.”

“And of all the places in the city to relax, you chose a windowless box?”

She taps her boot against the floor.

“I thought I’d come for one last session,” she admits quietly. “To say goodbye.”

The woman who spent the first month driving me toward an early coronary can now say three simple words and leave me temporarily incapable of normal human speech.

“I suppose I can tolerate you for one more hour. Sit down.”

“How generous,” she says, thrusting one of the coffees toward me. “For you.”

“Did you spit in it?”

“Not this week.”

I take a cautious sip. Black. Exactly the way I take it.

“What’s in the box?”

She drops into the chair beside mine and tucks one leg beneath her. “Pastries.”

On the desk, the stapler looks at me again.

“Ro?”

“Hmm?” She opens the box of cinnamon rolls.