I think you’re in prison, but you like it.
She’s the one who taught me how to read art in the first place. She must know what her subconscious is trying to tell her.
Another message pops up.
Love Lamb:
You know what? Now that you mention it, that makes sense. I recently moved to a city I thought I'd hate, but it turns out I’m actually loving it.
She loves Miami? Well, damn, I shouldn’t be surprised. Miami’s made for someone like Emma Green, all bright colors, art, and fierce energy.
My thumbs move again, unfiltered, before my mind catches up.
Gargoth:
I charge two hundred an hour. Whenever you want a session, let me know.
What the hell are you doing, Luca?
Love Lamb:
Oh, I definitely need a therapist. Things are about to get pretty complicated for me.
All hesitation evaporates instantly. She practically invited me in.
Gargoth:
Why complicated?
Love Lamb: Not getting into details with a stranger, but let's just say my future boss is going to be a major pain in the ass. I can feel it already.
I laugh—loudly this time. I swear I've laughed more during this short conversation with Emma than I have in the entire past week.
Gargoth:
Is he strict?
Love Lamb:
Ugh, you have no idea. But deep, deep down, I think he has a good heart.
I stare at her message, feeling a strange tightness in my chest, a sensation I can't quite identify.
If only she knew.
I immediately close the conversation as my stomach twists itself into a knot at her last message. Grabbing my phone again, I quickly text my therapist, Dr. Smith.
You got an opening today?
I’ve been seeing Dr. Smith on and off for about two years now. He’s good at what he does—actually, he's great—but I usually only schedule appointments sporadically. Today, though, I need to talk. Badly.
My controlling tendencies are already resurfacing, wreaking havoc like they were never buried at all. Yesterday, for instance, I decided exactly where Emma’s team should set up. At first, the second floor seemed appropriate. But then, I reconsidered. It was too far. I needed them—needed her—close, within easy view from my office window.
So, naturally, I moved the entire accounting department upstairs to make room for her. No one was happy about it, but frankly, I don’t give a damn. I’m the boss; no one argues with my decisions.
The doorbell rings, pulling me out of my thoughts. Time for Luis to drive me and for me to get this session over with in peace.
Dr. Smith finally texted back to confirm he had an opening at nine.
