Page 64 of Pretty Nightmare

Her tea is a production. Tea pot, little cups sitting on pretty saucers. Flowers on the tray when she sets it down on the table in front of me. And the whole place smells like jasmine and… I don’t know. Something sweet. Sugar, maybe.

I wait patiently for her to serve the tea. She is a slow woman. A woman who will not be rushed for any reason, and if you understand anything about her at all, you don’t want to rush her.

You just want to settle in and enjoy it.

The slow life.

I could get used to it.

She made me an offer. “Come with me,” she said. “Let’s do this together. I know you don’t really want to be a doctor. I can feel these things, Donny. Just come with me.”

But I walked away and now, for the life of me, I can’t understand why I did that. It’s the same feeling I get when I think about Indie and why I convinced Adam to buy her and then shape her into the pretty little nightmare she is today.

But this isn’t about Indie. It’s about me. So I push her out of my thoughts and try to concentrate on the best way to phrase what I need to ask Ana.

Finally, Ana settles in the chair across from the couch and we both take a sip of our tea and then set the cups down, the fine china clinking in that old-fashioned, alluring and seductive way that fine china does.

“What’s on your mind?”

I take a deep breath and spit it out. “How…” Well. Not quite spit it out.

“Go on, go on.”

“Have you ever done any self-hypnosis?”

She raises that eyebrow at me again. “Like… the power of positive thinking kind of self-hypnosis?”

“No. The other kind.”

“Hmm.” She looks up at the ceiling, thinking. “Yes. I’m pretty sure I did.” Then she laughs. “But I was a little bit high on peyote at the time.”

I laugh too. She makes me want to laugh. She is a good thing. Something I didn’t… ruin.

“OK. I’m getting serious now. The answer is yes. And yes, I was on peyote. But I had a fantastic guide.”

“So you had someone there with you?”

“Yes. Of course.” She says this like it’s a given and for a moment I second-guess my decision to come here. “But listen…” She pauses and leans forward. “If you’re looking for the self-guided kind, I’m not going to talk you out of it. You are a genius of a man, Donovan. If this is what you think you need, then who am I to caution you?”

“Well… you’re Ana. And if it’s a bad idea, I’d like to hear it from you.”

She slows us down again—on purpose, maybe. Or maybe not—and takes another sip of her tea. She doesn’t set her cup down this time. Just holds the cup and saucer in her hand. “What are you looking for, Donovan?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“But something. There must be something. Or you wouldn’t be here.”

“Fair enough.” I wipe my hands on my jeans. They’re sweaty. “I’ve made some decisions over the years and I don’t really understand why.”

“Hmm.”

“I just want to like… go back, ya know? And figure it out.”

“You have regrets?”

“I think so. But it’s more than that.”

“I could help you—”