“I did.” Not that it worked.
“I mean, she basically runs your business. She's the gel that holds everything together. Man, that had to sting.”
Wait, what? What is he talking about?
“What?”
“What do you mean, what? You called her your receptionist. Nothing wrong with being a receptionist, but Mia is a lot more than that, isn’t she? She does your accounts, handles patient enquiries, writes up your notes, hell you told me she sits in on some of your appointments when the client wants a woman present. And to top it all off, she manages to reign in your grumpy ass.” Austin chuckles. I can hear the clink of ice cubes, and I’d bet he’s got one of his fancy whiskeys in a crystal glass, leaning back in his wingback armchair. He’d bought the one Olivia used to sit in at the café or juice bar they used to go to. He’d literally bought old café furniture for her as an engagement present.
“Jesus. I really am a fucking idiot.”
“No duh. What happened?”
“She hasn’t come to work all week. She was upset…after the show. We were blindsided by the photo being broadcast. And I hadn’t even realized she'd be upset about the receptionist comment. I wanted to show her that I really am on her side and that I was blindsided as well, but I didn't have a chance. She left the room when I was still filming, and I eventually found her in a coffeeshop. But she…she was furious. I’ve never seen her like that before. Then she left and told me she needed to study, so I didn’t go after her. I wanted to give her space.”
I didn't realize that it might have been me who had upset her and not the show. I'm such an idiot. I should have told her what she meant to me after we had our heart-to-heart. This week has been a nightmare. I never thought that I would need someone so much. I never thought I relied on her as much as I did. I mean I knew she worked hard; I knew that she was invaluable,but I didn't realize how quickly my whole business would fall apart without her. But it wasn’t just the business. Sure, of course, that’s my main priority. I want the patients to be calm and centered when they’re here. I don’t want them walking into chaos.
But even if I tidy up the dead flowers and the glasses and jugs, even if I respond to all the emails, phone calls and enquiries, even if I get a fucking replacement for her, it won’t be the same. I won’t be the same. I won’t be able to smell her perfume anymore. I won’t be able to watch her at her desk between sessions. I used to watch her tap her pen against her lip when she was concentrating. Fuck, I miss that—the little scrunch of her brow, the pout of her lips. Her whole presence calms me. And since she’s been gone, it’s like a piece of me is missing.
“Shit, and she’s not come back?” Alfie asks as I realize how inappropriate this conversation is. Not that mine and Austin’s interactions are always above board. I did meet him at the docks eighteen months ago, which led to a gunfight where multiple people died. I’m still not entirely sure how that got covered up, but the police were never involved. Presumably Austin’s brother, who still works for a criminal enterprise called The Organization, cleaned up the area, and the police were none the wiser. The bodies were disposed of, as if it never happened.
“I don't know where she is. She's not coming to work, and she's not answering her phone.” I rub my hand over my stubble. “I don't know what to do. What am I supposed to do here?”
I sound desperate. I can hear my voice laced with it. God, this is humiliating.
“Well, what do you want to do? Are you wanting her back just as your receptionist? Because I don't think that's going to work for her. You'd have to ask her that though.”
“Do you think she will come back?”
Having been through his share of turmoil this last year, I hope that he’ll give me a realistic answer. He messed things up with Olivia, but they worked through it and now they’re happier than ever. Is that what I want with Mia?
“Man, I don't know. If you offer her something more than what you're giving her now, then perhaps. But it would have to be a strong apology and a strong incentive for her to come back. She probably feels humiliated. Isn’t she just about to graduate? She might be worried that people won't take her seriously now that you just called her your receptionist to the whole state of Washington.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Of course she’s worried about that. It’s the most popular morning show in the Pacific Northwest, and I just belittled her in front of the whole goddamn region. And then the photo. The photo of her screaming with tears in her eyes looking frankly terrifying was broadcast for a real visual. Her fellow PhD candidates probably saw. Her professors probably saw it as well. The people who will decide if she’s fit to pass her PhD probably saw. A weight sinks in my stomach, and I want to throw up.
“Austin, I need to go. Are you good? Is there anything you need to discuss before I head out?”
“Nah, I’m good, man. But Alfie, you once told me that I should think about what kind of man I want to be for Olivia. I’d offer you the same advice. Do you want to have Mia work for you? Or do you want more? Because a girl like that isn’t going to hang around forever. She’s going to move on, if she hasn’t already.”
Way to twist the knife, bud. He really doesn’t need these sessions anymore. He’s getting too fucking good at them.
“Thanks, Austin. I’ll comp our session.”
“Comp our session? Man, you should be paying me for that one.” He laughs.
“I’ll owe you one. Speak next week.”
“See ya, Doc.”
Chapter Twelve
Mia
Curtains drawn, door closed, my childhood teddy acts as a second pillow as I scroll aimlessly through my phone. I’ve gone past the doom-scrolling stage. I’m now at the annihilation station. My eyes jump from image to image, fake smiles, fake teeth, fake eyebrows in between ads for fertility treatment and gym memberships. I’m twenty eight and I should already own my own home, a business, and an investment property. I should have a rich husband, at least one kid already because my ovaries are close to shriveling up, and once they’re the size of a raisin, what is my purpose in life?
See what I mean? Annihilation station. And I took the train all the way here. That’s on me. I sigh, rolling over onto my back as my shoulder starts to go numb. My room is exactly as I left it ten years ago. My Orlando Bloom poster staring down at me from the ceiling which I tacked up when I was going through my Legolas phase. Oh sweet, naive Mia. Blond’s are never the one. You’ve got to remember that. Although right now, glasses wearing, academic vibe-check, dark-haired guys are definitely not the one either. Maybe I should just revert back to sixteen. Innocent and completely oblivious to the power that men hadover my life. The memory of the TV show hits me again and it’s like a big, fat bug crawling around my body. I push my shoulders back, straightening my spine but it brings no relief. Even Legolas is just staring at me, pitying the shameful lack of control in my life.
