“Your expression was just as great, my friend. Hilarious.”
“Is that what you were telling the guys this morning?”
“You mean before roll call? No, I was telling them a story about a dude we arrested in Boston. He was naked and wielding his dick around like a sword, talking in a British accent, and challenging us all to a duel.”
“Ah, high or crazy?” He had to admit he was a little relieved the joke hadn’t been at his expense.
“A little of both. We got him some help that day, but I never followed up to see what became of him.” The mood sobered quickly, and no one spoke for a few minutes.
Mitch cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, about Friday. Thanks for jumping in. At the time, I wanted to kill you, but it would have been horrible if you hadn’t been there.”
“No problem. That’s what friends are for.”
Mitch didn’t know what to say to that. Were they friends? He wasn’t sure what friendship looked like anymore, but he supposed just getting along was a step in the right direction.
They spent the rest of the morning taking calls and “getting along.” Mitch began to wonder if Adam even knew about the shrink appointment. If he did, he hadn’t mentioned it. Maybe he could do this without having to tell Adam anything. He’d simply say he had an appointment and needed an hour. While he contemplated how to bring it up, Adam pulled up to a tall, nondescript office building thathoused most of the NYPD brass. Dr. Patrick’s office was on the twentieth floor. So much for that plan.
“There’s a deli in the lobby. We can grab lunch there if you want. I’ll work reports till you’re done,” he said.
“Fine,” Mitch grumbled.
Deciding he wasn’t hungry after all, Mitch tossed the sandwich he’d just purchased in the garbage can next to the elevator. It wasn’t nervousness, but dread mixed with anger that had his stomach upset. Not counting the two short, mandatory visits after the shooting, he’d never been to a shrink.
He wasn’t looking forward to a lot of personal questions and pushing to get him to “open up.” Pissed he was here at all, his history with Dr. Patrick would not make matters any easier.
He got off the elevator and made his way to the glass door that indicated he’d found the good doctor. A gray-haired woman behind a small metal desk dropped her pen, and her eyes got wide when he walked in. Her gaze slowly and shamelessly took him in from head to toe. He smiled.
Though he’d never say a word about it—his mother would kill him if he did—he knew he was a good-looking guy. Plenty of women had told him so and, well, hell, he owned a mirror. It wasn’t that he was arrogant, he just didn’t suffer from false modesty. Being ogled by a woman twice his age made him smile and brightened his dark mood just a bit. He realized he’d smiled more the last couple of days than the previous several months. The thought gave him hope. Maybe he could do this after all.
“Hi there.” Mitch stared into her eyes and turned on the charm. “I’m here to see Dr. Patrick. I think I have a one o’clock appointment?” He didn’t know why he was flirting with her, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“Yes, of course,” she said. “You must be Officer MacDonald. It’s nice to meet you. My name is Betty.” She came out from behind the desk and after smoothing her skirt,offered him her hand.
“Hi, Betty. It’s nice to meet you, too. That’s a pretty necklace,” he said, taking her hand in his. She blushed and covered a giggle with her free hand. God, he was laying it on thick. What was wrong with him that he got a kick out of chatting up an old lady? He didn’t want to think about what the shrink would say about that, but the smile on her face lifted his sour mood a touch more.
Behind him, a door opened. “Hello, Mitch.”
Shit. He’d forgotten how sultry her voice was. Dropping Betty’s hand, he turned to face the doctor. He’d also forgotten how damned sexy she was. She wore a skirt that hit just above the knee but with a slit that extended to mid-thigh. Her blouse was low cut, and if she bent over, he would definitely get a peek at her breasts. Didn’t the department have some sort of dress code? How was a man supposed to focus on anything other than her long, shapely legs and enormous breasts?
“Dr. Patrick.” He wondered if the fact that they had slept together once was some kind of violation of ethics. Mentioning it to anyone would probably get them both in trouble, so this was just another awkward situation he would have to endure. She turned and made a motion with her hand, indicating he follow her.
“Well, it was a pleasure talking with you, Betty. Guess I have to go now.”
“Have fun.” Betty waved and returned to her desk.
“Please, come in, and sit down.” Dr. Tracy Patrick glided smoothly on her stiletto heels. Her large, neatly organized desk sat on one side of the room. She led him in the opposite direction to a small sitting area and sat in one of two plush leather chairs. The chairs were separated by a glass-topped coffee table that held a pitcher of water and two glasses on a silver tray.
The sway in her hips gave him an idea. If he could seduce her again, perhaps he’d have these shrink sessions out of theway in no time. All he had to do was get her to sign off on his paperwork and tell the LT he was fine. A satisfied woman might be inclined to do that.
They had been good friends for years, but that all changed after they’d fallen into bed together. They’d both been a little tipsy and a lot horny, but he remembered she’d had a good time—twice.
She crossed her long legs, and the slit moved even higher up her thigh. She leaned forward slightly to pick up a pencil and watched him look down her blouse. He sat opposite her and smiled. Yes, this whole shrink nightmare would be over real soon.
CHAPTER TEN
Mitch returned from Dr. Patrick’s office even grumpier than when he’d gone up. What the hell was the matter with him? He was a police officer, supposedly a trained observer, taught to notice anything and everything about a situation. Yet, in his haste to seduce the doc, he’d somehow missed the gold band on her left hand. She’d gotten married sometime last year, and he hadn’t heard about it.
Needless to say, sleeping with her to get out of the visits wasn’t in the cards. She’d made that clear right off the bat. He spent the whole thirty minutes giving the shortest answers possible to her mundane questions and left with an appointment for later that week.
