“That sounds suspiciously like the voice of experience. I take you fucked out in the woods?” I said.
“Technically on the very spot where we built the vineyard.”
“Okay. I didn’t actually need to know that. But thanks for the visual,” I said.
“Jeremiah was the last guy I ever should’ve looked at. He was so wrong for me, and I ran from it. I didn’t want to get involved, but there was no resisting it. Just quit making yourself miserable and go for it,” she said.
“In your case, I get that it worked out well. But you didn’t have, you know, a counseling license that you could lose, not to mention compromising my integrity by becoming personally involved with a patient or former patient. I mean there are literal court cases about this stuff.”
“So hit me with it. Give me your seven thousand bullet points on the list of reasons not to be with Tyler. I know you have one,” she said.
“I don’t need seven thousand. I only need about five to make it obvious to you why it isn’t the same as with you and Jeremiah.”
“Okay, impress me, then,” she said.
“Right. First of all, it’s unethical to get involved with a patient. Second, I could lose the job I love. It’s already cost me my support group. And that project was going to be the gold star on my employment evaluation in a couple months. So it has a real impact on my career. Third, I do not need to screw up my entire life over some guy. And thirdly, there is nothing between us but sexual attraction, which we all know how that ends and—”
“You did ‘third’ twice. And the way that ends is usually with terrific sex. Which, knowing your attitude toward pleasure, should be right up your alley. See what I did there?”
“Let’s leave my alley out of this. My alley isn’t getting any unless some double-A batteries are involved,” I groaned.
“You could be. If you’d let yourself enjoy something.”
“I enjoy lots of things. Macy’s sugar cookies are incredible. I like yoga—well, I don’t like yoga, but I do yoga to be less stressed out. I enjoy my work. I enjoy time with my friends, when they’re not giving me shit and trying to convince me to hook up with a really inappropriate guy.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that you’re no fun. For a brash, mouthy broad living her best life, you’re moping around like some sad little marshmallow.”
“I am not a marshmallow.”
“You are. You’re gooey inside. You act tough on the outside but—”
“Marshmallows aren’t tough on the outside. They’re made of sugar and gelatin. Which I think comes from pig hooves or something gross,” I said. “I am not mushy sweet pig hoof juice.”
“You are so weird. I love you, but you are so freaking weird. Just go for it with Tyler. It’s bound to be more fun than beating yourself up about liking him.”
“I don’t like him. I’m just attracted to him like a stupid teenager with no self-control.”
“Listen to you,” she giggled, “You are as bad as I was. I know, I know, it would never work because of REASONS.”
“It’s actually not funny. I know you had a tricky situation because of him shutting down the plant, but it’s not like it—”
“Closed my entire business down? Um, yeah. It did. And imagine how it looked to people, me hooking up with the guy who ruined the town. Like I was a really stupid slut.”
“I never thought that,” I said. “Never.”
“I know that. Because you know me. Point being, anyone who knows you will realize you didn’t take this lightly, that you made every possible step to protect your ethics, not be his counselor and everything. But that he must be important to you, because you’re giving up what you’ve worked for, and you’re doing it so easily.”
“None of this is easy,” I grumbled, not liking that she had a point. “And I’d look like those women who go on Dr. Phil and talk about how they couldn’t keep their hands off the teenager who mowed the yard and ended up in jail but really it was true love. That makes me want to puke.”
“Totally different. Those are sexual predators. You and Tyler are consenting adults. I assume that you’re both gagging for it. So there’s no Dr. Phil fodder here. Quit catastrophizing. I’m a veteran of this kind of thing, and believe it or not, you’re not the center of everybody’s world. Just make you happy, and forget everything else,” Maggie said.
“You are the best. But you’re too easy on me,” I said.
“No, you’re too hard on yourself. You’re allowed to be attracted to brutally hot men.”
“So you’re saying your brother-in-law is hot?” I teased.
“He is my husband’s TWIN BROTHER, Layla,” she laughed. “If I didn’t think he was attractive that would mean I didn’t think Jeremiah was either. Now, I prefer Jeremiah who actually talks instead of grunting and walking off carrying a fucking boulder or whatever. It’s like the twelve labors of Hercules out there.” She laughed.