The teen girl lifted her head, anxiety written all over her face. Her long brunette hair had been covering her face, and now, I could see her pale blue eyes and freckles as she looked up. At the sound of her name, the man had glanced over as well. Looked like he was with her. That wouldn't be distracting in session. Nope, not at all, I thought.
Focusing on what I needed to, I kept my gaze directed toward the girl in front of me and avoided looking in the other direction. Professional mask in place, I smiled encouragingly at her while keeping him in my peripheral.
"If you're ready, you can come back."
She nervously stood up, glancing at the man I assumed was her father. Upon closer inspection, he seemed relatively young to be a teenager's father, but that didn't mean it wasn't possible. He looked mid-thirties, just a few years older than me. A baby at eighteen wouldn't be out of the realm of possibilities.
"Me as well?" The masculine voice rolled over my body, and it took everything in me not to visibly react to him. The sound was sin personified.
"If Imogen is comfortable, then yes, you may both come back. If she's not, then I would like to meet with the parent and youth for the first 15 minutes to go over history, but after, I can just meet with the client."
I glanced at Imogen to gauge her preference. She was standing with her arms crossed at her wrists. At my glance, she shrugged her shoulders in indifference.
"It's fine," she eventually mumbled.
My empathy meter started to rise, allowing me to block out the seductive man and I gestured for her to follow me to my office.
"Feel free to sit wherever you're comfortable. I'll be sitting over here where the computer is," I gestured.
Imogen took the couch across from me, and her petite frame became engulfed by the cushions. I watched as she visibly turned inward, almost trying to make herself even smaller. Her dad chose the chair next to the couch, close but giving her space. In my experience, that was a good indication of their connection. Body language told you a lot about people's relationships, if you paid enough attention.
"I'm Loren, and I get the pleasure of learning about you while asking a million and one questions. Today's focus is to learn about your history, identify the symptoms, and figure out a plan to address them. If there is something you don't feel like talking about, then we don't have to go there today. Just share with me what you can, okay?"
Her nod was a clear sign this was going to be me digging for answers today. Hopefully, her father would be more open, or it would be a quiet and challenging hour.
"Are there any questions you have for me before we get started?" I hadn't really expected any, so I was surprised when the deep voice rolled over my body again.
"Could you give us your background and credentials?" the mysterious man asked. It took me a minute to respond due to the unexpected nature of the question.
His masculine voice urged my body to give in to the shiver with the authority he wielded. I glanced up to respond, which was an immediate mistake. Golden umber eyes, both dark and light, stared right back at me. In this enclosed space, his smell of expensive cologne intensified the moment. It smelled of seduction and secrets and I wanted to roll around in it.
Snared in his gaze, I lost my words.
My mouth hung half opened with what I was going to say forgotten on my tongue. Blinking, it helped reset my brain and focus back on the present. Closing my mouth, I swallowed, trying to remember what I had looked up for in the first place.
"Yes, absolutely. As the website states, I've been in the field for over ten years. I own this practice with two colleagues, and we started it three years ago. Before that, I worked in residential facilities, outpatient clinics, and the VA. I have a masters in Counseling from Northwestern, and I'm a Licensed Mental Health Counselor with special certifications in both sexual abuse and trauma-informed treatment. I work primarily with women and teens dealing with anxiety, depression, and trauma."
I stopped before I kept going and gave him my blood type and Social Security number. Something about him called to my need to please, and I wanted him to like me. It was weird. I shouldn't be having these thoughts about my client's father, but he had this air about him that demanded your attention. When he didn't say anything to my answer, I turned back to Imogen, hoping I could forget him. Unlikely, with his magnetic energy filling the room, but I was determined to try.
"Thank you, that's satisfactory. I'd also like to ensure that confidentiality is upheld with the highest standard. No one has permission outside of me to know she's here. No one."
As he spoke, I sat stunned for a moment, not understanding what he was implying. Of course, I would keep things confidential! That was a foundation of my job.
"Okay, well, I guess I meet your standards, and yes, of course, confidentiality is very important to me, and is something we go over as part of the intake." Clearing my throat, I attempted to regain my composure, his questions had thrown me out of my normal routine and caused me to forget. Focusing back on my client, I tried to start again. "Alright, let's start with your name, age, and who's with you today."
"Um, well, I'm Imogen... Mas… ters, and I'm 17, and this is my brother, Attie."
I was surprised at her admittance as the paperwork had clearly stated father. Something weird was going on here. I began to type up the information, focusing on keeping my face clear except for my encouraging smile. A throat clearing brought me out of my train of thought.
"It's Atticus, or Mr. Masters. Only, Immy is allowed to call me Attie."
His voice had me turning back to him again and each time I did, it was like being hit with his seductive spell anew. This was going to be a problem if I couldn't quit getting lost each time I glanced at him. He watched me with a domineering look in his eyes, melting my insides.
Atticus didn't appear to be an intimidating person, but something about his presence screamed danger, while also making me want to kneel in respect. I wanted to give in to whatever he was demanding with those dark golden eyes whispering to me. Blinking again, I found the words I'd been trying to utter.
"I will make sure not to call you that. I'm confused though, the paperwork I received stated that Imogen would be accompanied by her father?"
My words had Atticus's face shutting down, and Imogen withdrawing. Well, that hadn't been the right question. Shit.