A soft, hollow knock reverberated on the door. Bringing a fist to his lips, he consulted the time. He’d neglected to post his ‘out to lunch’ sign again.
His 12 o’clock was obnoxiously early.
Reaching for the doorknob, he gloated thinking of the menial tasks he’d dump on Kenna in addition to her administrative work. She may have backed him up against a wall but he had no intention of relinquishing control.
His office, his rules.
The door swung open to reveal a woman with a closed, raised fist, as if ready to knock again. Her shoulders inflated with an inhalation she refused to release.
“I hope I didn’t disturb you. There wasn’t anyone behind the front desk so I thought I’d check back here before I left. Are you?” Lashes flitting, her eyes traveled the length of him. “Are you Dr. Merino?”
Dayton plastered on a smile.
“I am, and I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I’ve hired an office assistant but she isn’t due to start until next week, I’m afraid.” He led the woman through the hallway and unlocked the door facing the waiting area. “Please, come in and make yourself comfortable, Miss …?”
“Wells. LaToya Wells.”
She indeed made herself comfortable, letting her designer purse drop to the floor and stepping out of her heels. LaToya plopped onto the wood trim velvet couch he’d gotten for pennies at an estate sale. He settled into the chair, nearest the door, and assessed the woman lying across the room.
LaToya. An ‘L.’ Despite her lean frame, it was easy to discern her strength. Thin, elongated feet. Toned calves. A long neck highlighted by the jet black bob that ended at her jawline.
Not only was she beautiful, but an elegance suffused her presence. This was the one, a fine candidate for his research.
As it stood, Dayton had no interest in carrying on with the sport of seducing women that he shamelessly labeled treatment. Treatment he no longer needed.
He’d found his cure.
And yet it came as a surprise that LaToya had no effect on him. Palms devoid of sweat. Heart never straying from its electrical impulse-induced rhythm.
He swiped his pen and legal pad off the side table.
“What brings you in today, Miss Wells?” His brain shifted from drive to neutral. Evaluation mode.
Bellowing thunder rattled the windows, birthing a dash of lightning in its wake. Rain streamed against the glass in a continuous waterfall. Whatever small joy he used to get out of thunderstorms vanished after the night Kenna spent tangled in his sheets. Every time the sky roared, he thought only of what he’d lost.
LaToya’s head lolled to the side and her body jolted as another round of thunder detonated in the darkened sky. She shut her eyes. They reopened, fixed on him, backlit by a fearful desperation.
“I’ve been seeing my father.”
Daddy issues, a conclusion he might have arrived at had she been a Ponderosa student what with the thousands of dollars her attire was worth. However, Dayton had learned since starting his private practice that the issues of real-world adults tended to differ from those of the college students he’d treated for years.
“I see. Do you get along well with your father?”
“We were never very close. He’s dead.”
Few lines had been exchanged and he could feel the exhaustion waiting for him at the end of Miss Wells’ session. Hallucinations were tiresome to treat. He always used medication as a last resort if cognitive behavioral therapy failed.
Maybe he’d jumped the gun and a bit of clarification would relieve the premature burden he felt.
“You said you’ve seen him. Have you taken to visiting his burial site?”
“No. I see him in my home.”
Each of the 60 minutes spent with LaToya was its own prison sentence. Dayton’s mind had crashed and was of little use to his patients the remainder of the afternoon.
A deep, tired honk of a horn blared outside the office as he flicked off the lights and gathered his belongings. He locked up before racing through the pouring rain to the idling station wagon.
Carmen, his twin sister, sat behind the wheel, black and gray tattoo sleeve peeking out from the cuff of her coat.