Then there was her aura of… comfort. Sincerity. It frightened Victoria how drawn she suddenly felt to the softness of Anna Monroe, the shabby coziness of her office. Today, somehow, no matter how she tried to tell herself she neither needed nor wanted these sessions with Anna, no matter how horrific their last encounter had been, today… that office felt like it could be a refuge.
That should absolutely frighten her to death. On any normal day, it would.
But today, Victoria was simply tired.
Screwing the lid onto her flask, she dropped it into her tote bag, took a deep breath, and headed to her car for the short drive to the hospital.
Today, Victoria didn’t even pretend that she didn’t want a pastry. She made a beeline for the open box on Anna’s desk and surveyed the bounty on display. As a heart surgeon, she knew the bacon and Gruyère tart was a health hazard. She’d told eachand every heart transplant patient she had ever had to avoid food like this, tempting, gooey, warm, flaky with butter in the crust.
As a tired, worn-down, andhungrywoman, she plopped it directly onto a plate and sat down on the overstuffed green couch. And she stuffed it right into her mouth, tearing off a massive and satisfying bite. The heavenly smoky bacon, the nutty cheese melting on her tongue, the buttery flakiness of the crust… Victoria couldn’t stop herself from actually moaning with the pleasure of it all.
Just before she closed her eyes to fully savor the bite, she saw Anna’s eyes go wide, but the therapist said nothing.Wise choice, Victoria thought, chewing her delectable mouthful.
She usually found Anna’s silence manipulative and oppressive, a tactic to get her to spill her guts no matter what the therapist said to the contrary. Today it was almost companionable, a gift, even. This sort of silence didn’t exist between the surgeons on the Cardio team. There was always something to discuss, some case, some article in a journal. The conversation was always professional, with the occasional jibe between colleagues. But even with Ashley, it was never a truly close conversation, and their rare silences were simply pauses that they typically rushed to fill.
Here, the scent of Anna’s spicy rose perfume and her charity shop mug of that beautiful oolong mingled to fill the air. It was another somewhat clammy autumn day in Los Angeles, but the office was warm and cozy. And the silence felt friendly, broken only by the surgeon and the psychologist quietly, companionably having breakfast together.
This was… dangerously pleasant.
Victoria chose to focus on the pleasantness. “You’ve lulled me into complacency today, Dr. Monroe,” she announced, taking asomewhat more dainty bite of her pastry. “This is an excellent pastry. And have I told you how much I like your perfume?”
Anna blinked. “Oh. Thank you…?”
“I’ve had to let it grow on me a bit. It’s unusual.” Victoria set her plate aside and picked up her tea flask. “What is it?”
“Rozu, by Aesop.” Anna rubbed at her wrist, looking a bit self-conscious as the nervous gesture released a heady cloud of the scent into the air. “It’s a bit of an indulgence for me, but I fell in love with it at first sniff a few years ago.”
“It suits you. A bit of flower, a bit of heat.” Victoria sipped her tea, enjoying how off-balance simple friendliness and courtesy seemed to be setting Anna Monroe.
Anna looked thoughtful as she nibbled on a croissant from the box on her desk. After a moment, she asked, “What is it that you wear?”
“Me?” Victoria was surprised that her scent, too, had been noticed. “Penhaligon’s Luna.”
Clearly, Anna knew her perfumes, because her eyebrows went right up. “Damn. I knew it smelled expensive, I wasn’t expecting it to be onthatlevel.”
Victoria chuckled. “My salary is nothing to sneeze at, but I do confess that it’s an indulgence for me as well. I don’t buy a lot of scent, it seems such an…” She waved her hand while she searched for the word. “…ephemeral thing to spend a great deal of money on. I don’t collect it the way I do clothing. I find something I like and I stick to it. Keep it simple.” She shrugged. “Until they discontinue it, of course.”
“Of course,” Anna echoed. “Yours suits you as well. Clean, fresh, very expensive. It’s truly a lovely scent.”
“Thank you.” There really was something very nice about not being so combative with the therapist she still didn’t really believe she needed. Or perhaps she did, a tiny bit. She had no desire to dig deep into her psyche, to let Anna any further underthe surface than a discussion of perfume, but she could admit that it was nice and relaxing to be here, and perhaps that was something that Victoria could acknowledge was beneficial.
Too bad Anna had to go right on ahead and ruin it all. “I would like to ask you about Hilary Jensen,” she ventured, her voice low and soft, deceptively gentle.
Victoria froze, ice forming a lump in her stomach. “No,” she blurted out automatically.
Anna swallowed, but soldiered detestably onward. “I understand it’s quite a, hm. Touchy subject for you.”
“It is in fact an off-limits subject for me,” Victoria snapped, all cozy comfort gone.Damn it, you snoopy little pest. And we were having such anicemorning.
“You mentioned her first, in our previous session,” Anna said, sitting up very straight and setting aside her tea mug. “I don’t think you meant to. I feel like you don’t actually remember that you did.”
I didn’t.Don’t. Panic began to squeeze her throat. “I would appreciate it if you stopped, Dr. Monroe.”
And normally, she knew, Anna would back off. But for some reason, not today. “This is what we call a trigger point,” she said, her voice calm. “Something that touches on a sensitive area of thinking or feeling and causes you to be flooded with panic, adrenaline, cortisol. For you, mentioning Hilary Jensen is a trigger point.”
“More of your psychobabble,” Victoria sneered, but she couldn’t deny that she was on the verge of screaming. She squeezed her hands into fists, once again digging her nails into the soft flesh of her palms. Tension wound her tighter and tighter until she was a taut wire, crackling with electricity, her gym-sore muscles beginning to shriek in agony.
But she held it all in, as tight as she could, knowing she was trembling with the effort.
