LOREN
Ihad one more client before my date with Atticus, and I tried not to let it distract me too much. It was difficult, though, when the random thought of Atticus in jeans and what that could mean would pop in my head. Heading to the front, I ignored the suited man that now sat in our waiting room. I’d officially been given a guard, despite my protests, though Sax admitted there had always been one, just not in the lobby. And with Dayton potentially out there, the guys weren’t leaving me alone.
Doris and the other girls gave me questioning looks, but I ignored them, hoping they would just let it go. I knew there was only so long before they would ask and I didn’t know how to respond to it yet. Today, Beau was here, and he smiled when he saw me. I think he was my favorite, and I didn’t seem to be as grumpy about them being here when it was him. I wondered if Atticus knew that and had sent him today to make sure I was in a good mood for our date.
What was I thinking? Of course, Atticus knew! That man was perceptive when he wanted to be.
“Jill.” The petite teenager looked up, a soft smile on her face as she gathered her things and walked toward me. Today, her head was down more, and she shuffled her feet. All thoughts of mafia bosses and bodyguards fled me, and I focused on the girl in front of me.
I thought it strange that she was always alone. While that wasn’t uncommon for teenagers, one with her history of trauma, you’d assume her parents would be shadowing her every move. It was something I filed away, adding to the puzzle and information I had on Jill.
When she made it to the couch, I shut the door and wished I had one of the dogs with me today. Jill looked like she could use one of them. I needed to seriously look into what it would take and quit just hoping I could do it. For this client alone, I would follow through with it.
“How’s your week been, Jill?”
“Oh, it’s been fine.” Her voice was small, and she stared down, fidgeting with her sleeves.
“Can you tell me a high and low?”
“Not really.” She kept staring, not meeting my eyes.
“Would it be okay if I sat closer today, Jill?”
She shrugged, so I stayed put, not taking that as the answer. Leaning forward, I tried to cut some of the space between us, hoping it would help ease some of her tension.
“I can’t help but notice, Jill, that you seem more withdrawn today. In my experience, that typically means something has happened. Do you want to talk about it?”
She looked up a little, meeting my eyes for a second before dropping them. “My nightmares have been bad this week, and my parents don’t like it when I wake up screaming. It’s just… it’s been tough being at home. It makes me miss school, but then I think about him, and then I’m right back in it. I can’t seem to get myself out of this loop.”
I nodded, processing her words. “That does make it difficult to feel like you have a safe place to process everything with support. Has there been anything in particular that your dreams have focused on, or anything you can think of that might’ve been the triggering event for these thoughts?”
“Um, I guess lately I’ve been seeing all my friends post about training and gearing up for competitions, and it made me miss it. I feel useless here not getting to skate or even train. I sit in my house all day, do my school online, and just think about how different my life is now. It makes me angry to think of the things I’m missing, of the things he took from me!”
“That would be upsetting, Jill. I’d be angry too. Your anger is valid and needs to be heard. What do you do when you’re feeling this way?”
“Nothing. I shove it down because my parents want me to be okay, so I do it. But I’m suffocating inside, Loren.” Tears came to her eyes now, and I knew the struggles she felt. An idea began to form in my head, and I wondered if I was crazy for thinking it.
“You’re wrestling with a lot of big emotions, Jill. I’d like to help you learn to process them so that you don’t feel that suffocation. I think there might be some ways as well to increase your support in your life. Is there a reason you’re doing online school versus attending?”
“At first, it was what I wanted. I didn’t want to go back to a school I’d been at where everyone knew me and would talk. But now, I dunno, it’s just been what I’ve done.”
“Okay, what if I talked with your parents about maybe enrolling you into a school? Would that be something you’d want? In my experience, if you can fill your day with new things, it helps not focus on the things you’ve lost. Plus, having new friends that aren’t reminding you constantly of your trauma could also be good. Getting you involved in some activities will help you process those emotions you’re struggling with, too. There’s a Youth Center not far from here that I think you might enjoy. I know ice skating has always been your goal, but it doesn’t hurt to find some new friends or interests until you can do it again. What do you think?”
She smiled, nodding, her eyes forward, and I knew that while this was a small win, it wouldn’t be an easy fix, but maybe, Jill could find some support and not feel so alone in her healing. We spent the rest of the time talking about things she would like in a school and some activities she’d always wanted to try but hadn’t had the time with her skating commitments. She had a list to take with her, and I made an appointment to call her mom and talk with her next week. Jill was apprehensive, but I encouraged her to let me be the bad guy if needed. She left with more pep in her step, and it felt nice to know I’d helped her find that.
Not every session was a win, but when you had those moments where the client seemed to click with something, it buoyed you up until the next one. Once the door shut, the realization that it was time for my date hit me, and I hurried back to my office, grabbing my bag, taking it with me to the bathroom. I could’ve changed in my office, but ever since the guys said Dayton could’ve, and probably did bug it, the thought of undressing in there unnerved me.
Changing into jeans, I left my blazer and chemise on and quickly brushed my hair. Spraying on some spritz, I gargled some mouthwash and then stepped back into my boots. Turning in the mirror, I felt confident, and several butterflies fluttered to life inside me. Taking out my lipstick, I spread it on, liking the red and how it had started to become my look. It was bold and sexy, and it made me feel those things as well.
Placing everything in my bag, I grabbed the rest of my stuff from my office and made my way to the lobby. Doris gave me a once over, a knowing look on her face. Waving, I didn’t stop to talk, my face already heating at what she could be thinking. When I stepped into the lobby, Beau was gone, and in his place stood Atticus.
Holy shit.I was not ready for the man who stood before me.
The top half was a causal interpretation of his normal everyday wear. He had on a sweater and blazer. It was the jeans, though, that stood out. When he said jeans, I hadn’t really believed him or expected they’d look like that. Tight material wrapped around thick thighs, and I suddenly found myself wanting him to turn so I could see how his ass looked in them.
Fucking. Hell. Atticus might kill me tonight.
“Lore?” I heard a slight chuckle in his voice.