I took a deep breath as I approached the desk to schedule an appointment for next week. There was another woman in front of me, as I stood there, trying not to look like the ball of nerves I was. Shareese and the woman talked for about 5 minutes. I kept shifting my weight from one leg to the other as I waited patiently while they went back and forth about her insurance coverage.
Finally, it was my turn to reach the front desk. I kept trying to figure out what was different about Shareese this morning when she checked me in. I had probably been too nervous to pinpointit, but the longer I stood there, it dawned on me. She had cut her hair, and it made her features stand out even more.
She smiled brightly as I approached the desk.
“I know now what’s different about you. Your hair. It’s so pretty, the style really fits you.” I complimented her.
“Thank you so much, beautiful.” She said as he clicked the screen and then leaned in closer to it.
“You wanted to schedule another session?” She asked, I confirmed, and waited for her to give me a list of available dates and times.
“Actually, Dr. Long just sent a message that said it’s not necessary for now, and he’ll email your husband the follow-up plan,” she said as she looked from the screen back up to me.
“Perfect. Have a great day.” I said as I plastered a smile on my face, but my whole stomach was in knots. What the hell did that mean? Was he going to email my husband a plan?
My palms started sweating as I struggled to grip the steering wheel and back out of the parking space. I knew it wasn’t exactly breaking the rules to ask Dr. Long, but I still didn’t know how Tim would feel if it were the therapist.
“Hello,” I answered the phone when I saw Cassie’s name flash across the screen.
“I’m running late, I just left the office. I’ll be about ten minutes behind you.” She said as soon as I picked up.
“That’s fine. If you want me to order for you, let me know. My session ended early.”
Cassie texted me while I was on the way to my session, asking if I wanted to grab a quick breakfast with her after I finished. Since our schedules had been conflicting and we hadn’t had our weekly lunch date in a while, I responded right away and accepted her invitation.
Once we disconnected the call, I turned on the radio and turned on my favorite playlist to ease my mind. And like mymind had done so many times before, it drifted to this situation with Tim and me. Judging by Dr. Long’s reaction and his basically blocking me from scheduling another session, I wasn’t sure he would be willing to get involved. That was fair, and I wasn’t bothered by it. His practice came first.
But if he declined, I wouldn’t approach anyone else. My decision to choose him was based on two things. I was very attracted to him, and because he already knew our situation. It gave me a little security that I didn’t have people in the community knowing I was sleeping with men other than my husband. Not to mention that I definitely would feel like a creep explaining it to anyone else. He wasn’t the end-all, be-all, so if it happened, it happened. But if it didn’t, I wouldn’t lose sleep about it, and I’d still allow Tim to explore whatever he wanted with no hard feelings.
***
It was a busy morning. I had been out all day running errands and was returning to the office after grabbing lunch when I got an email notification. Glancing at my phone's home screen, I saw that the message was from Quentin Long. I pulled into a plaza beside the restaurant, parked, and unlocked my phone. After a nervous pause with my finger over the email folder, I opened it. The email had no body text. I tapped on the attached document, but a prompt indicated it was password-protected.
My head fell back against the headrest. Then I exited and tried again, but got the same error message. Throwing the phone on the passenger seat, I got back on the road, wondering what the hell was going on and what type of games he was playing.
I was just pulling into my designated parking spot at Luxe Motors, unable to shake the mysterious attachment from my head. I opened my browser and went to the Long Term Therapywebsite. On it, there was a number listed for his business phone. I called it.
It rang for a while, but went to voicemail. The greeting on the message was definitely him saying to leave a message or call the proper authorities if it was an emergency. At this point, I was tired of the cat-and-mouse game. And I started to feel a bit foolish. I didn’t want to seem too eager or desperate for this man whom I barely even knew. So once again, I put it to the back burner and walked into the building.
“Hello, Mrs. Thompson, how are you today?” My receptionist greeted me.
“I’m good, Nat, what about you?” I asked as I swept the lobby area. It was busy today, just as it had been all month.
“Good, Mr. Thompson asked for you when he popped in earlier,” she said as she handed me a stack of folders of high-ticket clients who had been pre-approved.
“Thank you, I’m going to find him now,” I said as I walked in the direction of his office, which was on the opposite end of the hallway from mine.
I heard him arguing on the phone through the door. I tapped, pushed it open, and he turned, brows furrowed, still arguing about a shipment that was never ordered or misplaced. I chuckled; Tim ran a tight ship here.
Pushing the door closed, I locked it and walked toward him, went around the desk, and sat on his lap. He paid me no attention until he got the issue on the phone resolved. Then he slammed it on the receiver and looked up at me.
I looked at him and burst out laughing, then rubbed the back of his head. He didn’t smile a bit when he said, “Yeah, it’s funny now until your cousin can’t pay his bills.” I laughed even harder.
“What did he do, now?” I asked.
He explained it, and I didn’t dispute him.
“You’re the boss, Mr. Thompson.”
