Mouth twisting, Janice frowns toward a nearby palm tree. The bark is rough and peeling.
“Fine,” she mutters eventually. “But,” she jabs a finger toward my chest, her bracelets clinking, “I still wantoursessions too. Don’t you cancel on me, Doc.”
I hold up my palms. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The sun lounger creaks as I push to my feet, a songbird trilling in the bushes nearby. It’s only midday, and there are still lots of patients to check on. Staff to brief. So muchpaperwork.
And one surly society princess to settle into her villa.
Lucky me.
* * *
Poppy Elizabeth Lennox has a wild mane of dark hair, freed from the tight bun of her photo. Her eyes are ringed with kohl, and her frayed jeans and worn t-shirt are… not what I expected.
She makes an odd sight, climbing stiffly out of her father’s sleek limo. The engine purrs, the car idling on Honey Cove’s circular driveway, and the glossy black paint is already smeared with dust.
“Oh, perfect,” Poppy says when she spots me waiting for her. She throws her next words over her shoulder to the driver where he’s lifting her suitcase from the trunk. “Tell Lilian I was right, will you? Thereisa hot doctor here.”
Poppy turns back to me and smiles, but it’s not friendly. It’s toothy. It reminds me of those cheesy old vampire movies.
I clear my throat and walk forward with my hand thrust out, but Poppy folds her arms over her chest, her smile sickly sweet.
“Better not. Haven’t you heard? I’m out of control, doctor.”
Reckless behavior.
A danger to the public and herself.
I frown at the bitter young woman in front of me. She’s tense, yes, her slender body rigid with anger, and she bites out each word like she can barely unclench her jaw. Her pulse thrums in her throat, and she’s grinding her teeth. If anyone needs to relax, it’s this girl.
But Poppy doesn’t strike me as out of control. Not at first glance, anyway.
“We’ve prepared a private villa for you.”
“Fancy,” she spits.
Yes, she’ll be a handful alright, and I choke back a sigh. “The Honey Cove Institute is gated, with security on site. Until we’ve completed your first assessment, Miss Lennox, you are not permitted to leave. This is for your own safety and the safety of others.”
Flinty eyes bore into me, crackling with hatred. I wouldn’t be surprised if the sky opened up and a lightning bolt struck me down. “And after the assessment?”
Isn’t it obvious? This is a treatment center, not a prison. “If you are deemed well enough, you’ll be free to come and go as you please, and to withdraw yourself from the program if you wish. We have your medical notes from home, of course, to give the assessment more context, and you and I will complete a full interview—”
Poppy turns on her heel, marching across the circular driveway.
“Your villa is this way,” I call.
She wheels around, somehow even more furious than before. How is her storming off in the wrong directionmyfault?
“I want that assessment today,” she says, shouldering past me with her arms still folded. Rolling my eyes, I take her elbow and guide her toward the right path between the trees. “Don’t bother bringing my suitcase.”
I won’t. I’m a doctor, not a fucking bellhop.
“I’ve got it,” the driver rumbles behind us, dragging the wheeled case along the cobbled path.
Shame. A petty part of me would have liked to watch this society girl struggle with her designer suitcase all the way to her villa, huffing and puffing, her forehead dewy with sweat.
“I have appointments already scheduled for the rest of this afternoon, Miss Lennox. Other patients besides yourself.” Other priorities.“We will have our first session tomorrow morning.”
Her scoff makes my temples throb. “And then you’ll let me go?”
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. “If you are well enough, then yes, Miss Lennox. We’ll let you go.” And it’s a dick move, but I can’t resist adding: “Believe me, I’ll call you a cab myself.”
It’s a struggle not to return her scathing look as we approach her villa. To keep my expression blank.
Lord help me. I’ve been a doctor for years now, and no one has ever tested my patience like this.