“Do you feel like you want to talk about The Battle again?”
She gnawed on her ruby red lips, entwining her fingers like she was tying a knot. Countless sessions with Agatha, she’d done just that. Relived the horror of being trapped in a dragon form. Forced to use her power to destroy the very things she loved and revered. Her own will shut down as someone else manipulated her for their benefit.
What she’d gone through was clearly traumatic. She was struggling to move forward, even years later. She couldn’t sleep or relax. She didn’t have a permanent place to call home.
And every week, that fact was reiterated without the benefit of hope or action. She reminded herself of her trauma. Lived in it, day after day.
It was another example of Agatha’s talk methods being ineffective.
Cindrette’s lips trembled. The muscles in her long, silver neck tensed. I wasn’t sure if she knew she was holding live fire in her hand, but I didn’t want to ask. Its heat waved the space between us. I braced myself, in case she spontaneously combusted or turned into a dragon.
As quickly as it had flamed, the fire was gone. She squared herself to face me, planting her feet on the ground.
“No. No, I do not want to talk about the past anymore. I want to figure out how to live in the now. I want a future!” Her tiny voice faltered, but her eyes held firm.
A spark of hope lit within. A desperately needed sign of progress.
“Good.” My next smile was neither fake nor forced. “So, let’s start by finding the moments you feel safe and start from there.”
Thirty minutes later, Cindrette clutched the new journal I’d given her tight to her chest and rose to leave. “This was so helpful, thank you! I can’t wait to get started. Right after my next appointment.”
“Next appointment?” I walked her out, scanning the lobby for Brianne but finding it empty.
“With Lydia.” A deep purple blush rose in Cindrette’s cheeks. “I have a standing treatment right next door.”
She scurried to the Med Spa door and swung it open. I caught a glimpse of pristine white walls and light chatter before the door closedagain. My phone pinged. A message from Brianne that she’d left to run an errand and that my next two patients had already canceled.
Word was already spreading. And not the way I wanted it to.
Perhaps it was time I made my presence known in the other divisions. Time to get a feel for the business side of this crazy inheritance.
I had two hours with no work and the contact high of a productive session. Eyeing the Med Spa sign, I stalked to the door and yanked on the handle. Maybe the positive energy of Cindrette greeting me would help fuel the kind of gossip Ididwant. If nothing else, Lydia would see that I knew how to do my damn job.
Even if I wasn’t totally convinced.
CHAPTER 16
Iwalked into a smaller waiting area. It was clean and cozy. The white I thought I’d seen on the walls turned out to be a soft taupe. There was a row of seating—lavender chairs that matched Lydia's hair and looked ridiculously comfy. Glass shelves with gold accents housed an assortment of bottles with the same label I recognized from my living space.
Despite Cindrette walking in only a minute before me, the space was empty. Except for Lydia. She hovered over a small standing desk in the center of the room, in front of a wide curtain that spanned wall to wall. When she lifted her creamsicle eyes to greet me, a bolt of lightning shot through my body.
The small buzz of hope and excitement I’d felt at my first successful session amplified. I went from giddy to outright drunk with pride in seconds. This was different from the sensation I’d experienced in the boardroom. That had been a stream of blissful acceptance.
This was an ocean of champagne at high tide. A hiccup escaped my lips. I covered them with a shocked giggle. Lydia’s calm face lifted into a mischievous grin.
“Good morning, Simone. I was wondering when you’d find your way to us. Can I offer you a drink?” She gestured toward the compact water jug in the far corner. Slices of cucumber and leafy green mint floated in the crystal-clear water.
Suddenly, I was parched. It took all I had not to cross the room and lift the jug directly to my mouth. Instead, with shaky legs, I did what I hoped was a cool stride over to it.
“I can get my own water, thank you.” My words were slurring, and my head held the fog of a hangover. Weird. I thought I would feelgoodin the medspa. Instead, I just felt… topsy-turvy.
“As you wish, Ephemeral Supreme.” Lydia’s grin stretched from ear to ear.
A small voice inside me shrieked in protest, and the house groaned. It was at least a hundred years old, as far as I knew, and I’d never heard that sound before. The floorboards never creaked when you walked across them. The house didn’t “settle” the way others did. The sound of it happening was jarring enough to snap me back into reality.
And once there, I was right pissed off at Lydia Langley.
Part of my training as a therapist had been learning to embrace that emotions, by themselves, are neutral. Feeling pain isn’t automatically a bad thing. Joy is great, but sadness has its place in our lives as well. Logically, I knew that.
