Nights with Him (Seductive Nights #4)(40)
Author: Lauren Blakely

“Are you still feeling that you’re on the right track with the potential separation?”

“I think so,” Shayla said, but then stared pointedly at her silver Tiffany bracelet and began fidgeting with it. She’d never been a fidgeter.

“Are you sure? Are you having second thoughts?” If she wasn’t ready to leave him, then Michelle didn’t want to push her.

Shayla shook her head, her curls bouncing with the movement. But she didn’t look up.

Enough.

Michelle cleared her throat. “Is there a reason you won’t look me in the eyes?”

Shayla snapped up her gaze. “Because all I can see is The Lola now,” she blurted out.

The Lola?

Then it hit her, and her head felt like it was swimming, and her vision went blurry. Please no. Please God no. She’d hoped there weren’t pictures of him using that on her. They’d been on top of the Met Life Tower. Alone. Had his friend at the hotel tipped someone off? But that was weeks ago. There was no way someone had seen or caught that on camera, right?

“What do you mean?” she asked carefully.

Shayla shook her head and took a deep breath, then words spilled out in a wild rush. “I’m so sorry, but you’ve taught me to be direct, you’ve taught me to speak my mind, and I can’t hold back anymore. I know this is personal, but all I can think about now is how he must use all these toys on you. The One, The Dream, The Lola. I have them all. I’m in a loveless marriage; I need my BOBs. And now you’re dating him. It’s all I can see when I look at you now, and if I don’t acknowledge it, it’s all I will ever see. So I just have to get it out there,” Shayla said, her eyes wide with her confessional, her hands slicing the air.

Michelle felt as if she’d been walloped. Smacked with a pillowcase full of bricks. She nodded curtly, accepting all that Shayla had dropped in her lap. Lines were being crossed left and right, up and down, as her personal and professional life collided in an unexpected zigzag. She’d counseled patients through emotional crises, through breakdowns, through divorce, death and love unreturned. But knowing what to say next and how to handle Shayla’s TMI about her was one of the toughest challenges she’d ever faced.

She latched onto Carla’s words about refocusing the patient. She flashed back to all her coursework on how to manage over-interest in the therapist. But this was such a messy stew.

Even so, she had to wade through it. Step by step. First, address the issue professionally.

“I take it you’re referring to the Page Six item over the weekend about the man that I’m dating?” she asked, deliberately not using his name. A patient didn’t need to refer to her lover by his name, after all.

“Well. Yeah. And that picture of you guys dancing at Lincoln Center that showed up this morning on Page Six.”

That was news to her.

Michelle dug her fingers into her palms, and told herself it was all going to be fine. She’d been in sessions all day and prepping for Paris. She hadn’t been online, and hadn’t checked her work or her personal email either. And while she felt a small ounce of relief that the photo that had appeared was one of them dancing outside, rather than of them inside on the balcony, she was still bothered that the gossip rags were following them at all. Weren’t there far more interesting people to photograph than her and Jack, even if he’d been deemed New York’s most eligible bachelor?

“And does it bother you to see my photo online?” Michelle managed to ask, concentrating on her client, not on her own reaction to being in the tabloids.

“It’s weird,” Shayla said loudly. “It’s completely bizarre. Honestly, I’ve always thought of you as a blank slate. Someone who existed in the little framework of this office.” She gestured to the four walls.

“And now you realize I’m both a therapist and a human being.”

Shayla nodded. “Yep.”

Michelle took a breath, clasped her hands, and addressed the elephant in the room once more. “So, here’s the deal. I’m a human being. I date. I see plays and movies. I have a brother, and I have good friends. I like to go out to dinner. I like to try new restaurants. I enjoy fall in New York City, and I’d like to have a dog someday. There you go. That’s me. I’m not a blank slate. I’ve never been a blank slate,” she said, pausing to gauge Shayla’s reaction. Her client’s eyes were fixed firmly on Michelle. Good. “But the time we spend together is not about me. It’s about you. And I’m not going to address any specifics of my dating life. I do, however, want to keep working with you and helping you sort out the matters that are most important to you,” she said, her voice clear and direct. This was how things would be done. Take it or leave it. “Can you keep doing that?”

Shayla gulped and nodded. Red bloomed across her cheeks, and her eyes turned watery. “Yes,” she squeaked out. Then, she chased it with a choppy, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Michelle said softly. “Truly, it’s fine. I’m here to help you, though, and I want nothing more than to do just that.”

“Thank you. I’m just so scattered and emotional with the divorce pending,” she said, and they returned to what mattered most during the fifty minutes they had together.

Later that morning, Clark Davidson arrived for his appointment, dressed sharply in a suit. Michelle suspected he was a high-powered businessman, fitting this in during his day. Quickly, they dived into the marital challenges that had brought him here.

“It’s as if any true intimacy has died. My wife and I don’t have that authentic connection anymore,” he said, and his words made the hair on her arms stand on end. She’d written a paper for a journal that used those terms. True intimacy and authentic connection. They weren’t trademarked or coined by her, nor were they unusual words. But they weren’t often used by her patients. It was as if he was quoting her back to her. “I read that in one of your papers,” he added, flashing her a grin.

She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled that he was so open about it. It all made sense. “I hope it was useful.”

“Very much so. I hope you don’t mind, but I read a bit of your research before I made the appointment. That’s my field. I’m a market researcher, so it’s sort of a natural habit for me. And I was impressed, so that’s why I had wanted to see you,” he said, fiddling with the wedding band on his left finger.