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“She was willing to give up her lunch hour?”

“Lace? Or the doctor? They both were.”

“Why?”

“Lace because she wants to remember the name of the woman on the settlement agreement. The doctor because we’re paying three times her normal fee.”

“I see. That doesn’t bode well for a doctor.”

“It bodes just fine. We offered.”

“She didn’t have to accept.”

“Why wouldn’t she? If someone asked me to skip lunch to do my normal work for three times what I make in an hour, I’d do it like that.” She snapped her fingers.

She was right. I was just being a pain for the sake of being a pain. And the fact that guided hypnosis scared the shit out of me.

“If she’s booked—”

“She has evening hours. It costs a little more, but I think you might be able to afford it.”

“Ha ha,” I said. “I ordered dinner.”

She inhaled. “I can tell. It smells great. Italian?”

“Northern Italian, yeah.”

“We’ll have to eat quickly, then. Your appointment is at eight.”

I twisted my head so far I nearly cracked my neck. “Say what?”

“I took the liberty of—”

“So all that ‘in your own time’ was bullshit, huh?”

“No.”

“Give me a break.”

“It wasn’t bullshit, Roy. I told Dr. Woolcott you might not be up for it, and if that was the case, I’d call her by seven. You have a little less than half an hour to decide.”

I shook my head. “Oh my God. You had no right—”

“Stop right there. I had every right. I’m the woman you love, remember?”

“The woman I love who can’t say it back.”

“I love you, okay? I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

God she was beautiful. Like a platinum rose in the wind—that feisty wind right before a thunderstorm.

Yet I had no doubt of her sincerity.

She loved me.

The fiery silver in her eyes showed me that love more than words ever could.

“So…?” she prodded.

I didn’t reply.

“I was staring at the blank wall in my office today, thinking it was like a blank screen that I could cover with art, and a thought popped into my head. Your mind is blank right now. You won’t let the key do its work. This therapist can help you, can put art back onto your wall.”

I gazed at her, at the excitement in her gorgeous eyes.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t had the same thought. You’re the one who asked me to give you the therapists’ names in the first place.”

“Let’s eat,” I said simply.

“Have it your way.” She looked at her watch. “You still have twenty-four minutes to decide.”

Charlie pulled out paper plates and utensils and dished out the takeout. She looked comfortable in my tiny kitchen, like she belonged there.

She did belong there.

I wanted her here. I wanted her here for good.

Damn. A week! We’d known each other for little more than a week. But we’d traveled together in that time, we’d painted each other—I still hadn’t looked at her portrait—and we’d made amazing passionate love.

“I love you,” I said.

She smiled, handing me a plate of chicken and pasta. “I know. I love you too.”

I looked down at the food. One of my favorite restaurants, but I had no appetite. Finally I met Charlie’s gaze. Her sweet lips glistened.

“Charlie,” I said, “what should I do?”

“Only you can answer that question, Roy.”

Nope. She wasn’t going to let me cop out. Not that I thought she might. I knew, as soon as I asked, what her response would be.

How was she so strong? So sure of herself?

She’d had a modest life. A life of poverty compared to mine. Yet she came out unscathed. Surely she had her baggage. Everyone did. But still…

What would Charlie do?

Indeed, that was the question, and I already knew the answer.

“I’ll go,” I said.

She smiled, so beautiful. “I knew you would.”

“But it might not help at all.”

“True. It might not. And it will probably take several sessions before anything happens. But it’s a step, Roy. A crucial first step. And I’m happy for you.”41CharlieRoy began eating then, and soon his plate was empty.

He laughed. “I didn’t think I was hungry.”

“You weren’t, until you made the decision to help yourself. This is a good thing.” I took a sip of the red wine I’d poured for us. “What did you do today?”

“I worked on a new piece, the one I began yesterday.”

“I thought maybe you’d take a nap.”

He scoffed lightly. “I tried, but I couldn’t.”

“I have a feeling you’ll sleep like a baby tonight.”

“Maybe. I will if you’re next to me.”

“I suppose that can be arranged. Tomorrow is Saturday so I don’t have to worry about getting to work. I don’t have any clothes here, though.”

“So? I’m thinking you won’t need a lot of clothes for what I want to do.”

My cheeks warmed. This was still so new. So new and wonderful.

The beginning part of relationships was always so exciting. Talking and making love and talking and making love.


Tags: Helen Hardt Wolfes of Manhattan Erotic