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“Are you going to group?”
I nodded. “How about dinner after?” All of a sudden, I wanted to take her out on a real date. I wanted to act like how a man who was interested in a woman acted. I wanted to show her the town, and give her the world.
“Do you want me to cook?”
I quirked a brow. “Are you good at it?”
She looked offended. “Is there something about me that suggests otherwise?”
“No. But I like food, and you can’t be excellent at everything.”
“I’m an okay cook.”
“I’m willing to risk that. I’ll bring the wine.” I leaned over to kiss her and considered having her one more time, but the alarm went off on my phone, indicating I had fifteen minutes before a conference call with the Florida people.
We dressed, and I walked her to the elevator. Despite what happened in my office, as we walked toward the elevator, we didn’t appear to be two people who had just fucked in my office. I didn’t touch her and our voices were professional. But as the elevator dinged its arrival, I wondered why we were hiding it. She wasn’t my therapist. There was nothing wrong with my seeing her.
I tugged her to me and gave her kiss as the doors opened. “You blow my mind,” I whispered in her ear.
Her smile was wide and beautiful as she stepped in the car, reinforcing my belief that we had something beyond just great sex. I hated to let her go, but the doors closed and the elevator started its descent.
I turned to head back to my office. Yvonne was at her desk, and she looked at me with an expression I didn’t quite understand. Hurt? Pain? Anger? Since Grace had just scrambled my brain, I figured I wasn’t reading Yvonne right.
“Do you have any messages for me?” I asked.
“No, sir.” Her voice sounded clipped, and I realized she wasn’t doing something overt to attract my attention. That must have meant that she realized I was off the market. Thank fuck.
I went into my office feeling better than I’d ever remembered feeling.
22
Grace
Tuesday
There was something freeing and lovely about giving into my desire for Hunter. Not just sexual desire, but to pursue whatever it was going on between us. I’d never let go and simply let my wants at the moment dictate my actions. For so long, I put off things I wanted to do because they’d get in the way of my ultimate goal. Now that I’d reached my goal, what was I waiting for? It was time to seize the day.
I was in the office the next day, writing notes about my last client, which was hard, because my dinner the night before with Hunter kept coming to mind. It was sweet and sexy. We never did make it to my bed as he took me on my dining room table.
My body heated at the memory of his mouth on me again, and then his thrusting in and out of me powerfully until I was crying out in pleasure, followed by his own shout of release. It seemed like we were in sync on all levels. A part of me worried if I was reading too much into my feelings, as well as his words and actions. But another part of me said I should go with it. Enjoy it while it was happening and not worry about what could happen. It was how I’d been with Mike, and that didn’t go well, but Hunter wasn’t Mike.
A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts of Hunter. I checked my watch. I didn’t have another client for thirty minutes. I stood and went to the door, opening it to an unknown middle-aged man in a tweed jacket and with messy brown wisps on his balding head.
“Ms. Reynolds?” he asked.
“Yes. Can I help you?”
“I’m Stuart Brown from the New York Office of Professions that licenses counselors,” he said handing me his card.
I read it and opened my door. “Come in.” I motioned for him to sit in a chair as opposed to the love seat I often let my clients sit in to be comfortable. I didn’t want him to be comfortable. “How can I help you,” I said as I sat at my desk.
“A complaint was registered against you with my office.”
What? My brain quickly scanned my client list to identify anyone who was unhappy with my work with them. “Can you tell me who and what the complaint was about?”
“It was anonymous, which admittedly, we often take with a grain of salt. But the complaint said you were in an inappropriate relationship with one of your clients. That is something we do take seriously. There’s nothing worse than betraying the ethics of your work and potentially hurting a client’s mental health.”
I swallowed as panic flared in my belly. I used the poker face I used with my clients to hide my reaction.
