“They know we’re right,” Villain Pretty Boy said. “We don’t need proof.”
Could two shots of vodka and a half… oh, afullglass ofbeer cause drunkenness? It was the only reason I could explain why that smug little gleam in Pretty Boy’s eyes was getting to me, making me want to accept this bet and prove them both wrong in one session. Or maybe the reason I was hesitating was because of the look on Tara’s face. The disappointment. It had been years since I’d seen that look, but I remembered it well. I hated letting her down again after how much she’d been there for me over the years.
And shit, with my breakup and my business and my mom, maybe free therapycouldpush off some of the anxiety I knew was building in my chest that I had been ignoring so well. Plus, would someonelacklustervolunteer for something so out of the box?
“Fine,” I said. “I’m in if you are.” I unleashed a smug smile of my own on Villain Pretty Boy and watched his fall.
CHAPTER 2
I groaned as the sunlight shone red through my closed eyelids. I hadn’t pulled the blackout curtains all the way shut the night before. Yes, I’d stayed in the hotel. It had been too late to cancel when Nate broke up with me. It was going to cost me the same whether I stayed in the room or not. And honestly, I needed the break, with or without Nate.
I squinted my eyes open, memories of the night before causing me to groan again. Had I agreed to go to therapy with a complete stranger? A smug one at that.
After I called his bluff, he’d shrugged, like he agreed to these things on most weekends, and said, “Care for a secondary bet? Between the two of us?”
“What did you have in mind?” I asked.
“If I’m right”—he gave me a once-over, like he could read me just by looking at me—“you have to…”
“Make her do karaoke or a poetry slam,” Tara said. “She hates doing fun, embarrassing things in front of a crowd.”
I whipped my head toward Tara and her betrayal. Afterall, I’d agreed to this mostly for her. She gave me a sheepish smile and a shrug. I swallowed down my feelings, realizing she was probably hanging on to things from high school as well. Things I thought we’d put in the past.
“Not surprised you like to maintain all the control,” he said, and hot anger poured through me.
“If I win, you have to shave your head, Pretty Boy,” I snapped.
Michael let out a burst of laughter. “She has your number.”
His eyes went to his empty glass. He looked inside as if he was studying the patterns in the dried foam along its sides. Then he met my eyes, held out his hand, and said, “Deal. By the way, I’m—”
“A stranger,” I interrupted, not touching his outstretched hand. “We’re supposed to be strangers. I should leave before we learn any more fun facts about each other.” Now that humiliation was on the line, I needed to make sure I won.
He retracted his hand, holding it up instead, his smug smile back on his face as if I’d just cemented his one and only opinion of me to this point—that I was a control freak.
I wasn’t. I was organized and structured and task oriented. Without those things there was little to no productivity.
“You obviously won’t be strangers for all four sessions,” Michael said, challenging my logic.
“I’m counting ononesession,” I said.
“Yes!” Tara said, like we’d already won. Hopefully the therapist was a good one.
I shrugged, then pulled some cash out of my purse, put it on the bar, and walked away. My stumble on the way to the door reminded me how much I’d drunk.
“I’ll text you a time and location,” Tara called after me while I was pulling up a rideshare app on my phone.
Now, lying in the hotel bed, completely sober, I wondered again how I had been talked into such a horrible idea. I didn’t have time for this game. I was running a business and taking care of my mom and getting broken up with. I needed to cancel. I was going to cancel.
I pushed my palms against my eyes and sat up. My phone buzzed from the nightstand next to me, and I wondered which of the three life events I’d just laid out awaited me on its screen.
Raya. My business partner at Luminesce, our bar/restaurant.
Will you send me the delivery schedule for this week?
I’d already sent her the delivery schedule.
I know you already sent me the delivery schedule but I dropped my phone in the fryer last night, yes the fryer is fine, no my phone is not.
