Part 4 (2/2)
”Yes, Dave, my friend.” He paused and looked around her office. ”Dave Tuft was my best friend. He died in a skiing accident on Sat.u.r.day.”
”Sat.u.r.day?” She couldn't keep the surprise from her voice. ”But you were at the bar last Sat.u.r.day night. I saw you, remember?”
”Avoidance,” Blake said with a straight face. ”It's one of my...one of the things I need to work on. Look,” Blake leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, ”I'm not someone who doesn't see his own faults. I know I'm a...I've been a bit of a...”
Danica raised an eyebrow, secretly rea.s.sessing what she thought of him by his honesty. She had little tolerance for lies, although in this case, lies might make her job much easier. She'd instantly be turned off by lies, while honesty was harder to resist.
”Well, I'm that guy.”
Come on. You can do it, Blake. ”That guy?” Danica was not going to spoon-feed any client, including him. Especially him. She couldn't wait to hear if he fessed up to being the person she saw him as.
”That guy. You know. The one who dates a different girl every night. The one who accidentally hits a woman in the nose, then looks at another woman while she's standing there bleeding.”
So, he did know what he was like. ”Before we talk about all of that-and we will talk about all of that-I'd like to get an idea of your familial background.”
Blake groaned and leaned back in his chair.
”I'm not a therapist who believes that you need to relive your childhood in order to make progress, but I do like to know what you've experienced, so I can better help you.” She pulled off her normal speech without a hitch. That was easy. Danica squeezed her pen so tight that her knuckles stung. This was where the bad guys came out. Molestation, emotional abuse, any of the triggers from childhood could bring even the strongest man to tears-or to aggression. She watched for the telltale signs of the latter while he answered.
”I know I have to talk about this, but it's difficult.” He took a deep breath, and Danica watched a brief look of pain pa.s.s through his eyes. ”My mom left when I was three.”
”Have you seen her since?”
Blake shook his head. ”She didn't leave a forwarding address. I lived with my father.” Blake looked out the window, his eyes serious, as if he was contemplating something. When he turned back toward Danica, she saw the same softness she'd caught a glimpse of when he'd first elbowed her in the cafe. ”He did the best he could. Worked two jobs, spent time with me. I'm not a kid who was ignored or abused.”
That helps. She waited patiently for him to continue. All clients had this lull in admission. Danica knew better than to prompt them. How they continued was often very telling.
”I don't see him much. He moved away, and I-”
Danica waited, listening to the faint road noise filtering in through the closed windows. She waited until his discomfort with the silence became evident in his fidgeting. She was used to this. Blake fidgeted. She waited.
”h.e.l.l, I don't know. There's no real reason we don't see each other except probably that he's old and I'm selfish.”
Yes! One point for being self-aware! She nodded, hiding her enthusiasm for his honesty and wondering what he might be hiding. Everybody was hiding something. ”Okay, so no mom growing up, and Dad was a good guy. That's all I need for now to be able to move forward.” She set the clipboard down on her desk and relaxed a bit, steepling her hands beneath her chin. ”Tell me about Dave.”
Blake's eyes went from serious to sad, then settled on something in between. ”He was my business partner. We skied together.”
Danica nodded, waited.
He looked down, then spoke softly. ”He would egg me on, with women, you know? But then, in the same breath, he'd hint that I shouldn't be doing what I was doing.” Blake locked eyes on Danica. ”He's the reason I'm here. He gave me your number before he...before the accident.”
”Well, he sounds like a good guy. I'm sorry that you lost him. That must be very painful. Do you want to talk about the accident?” Danica felt herself warming to him, like she had to Keith Small, a previous client. An alcoholic who went to every AA meeting with the hope of actually changing, even though he still went home and drank. It had taken over a year of working with him, but he'd eventually gone through rehab and was now living a sober lifestyle. She saw the same hope in Blake's eyes. She's seen that look many times before. While tragedy was a major catalyst, few clients actually remained steadfast in their path to change after the initial shock of losing someone wore off.
Blake shook his head. ”Not really.”
She could barely take her eyes off of him. How could one man be so attractive? ”Okay, Blake, what would you like to share with me?” My bed? Jesus Christ, where did that come from? This is not a good idea.
”My other...habits.” He leaned back again, crossing his arms. ”This is weird, isn't it? Talking about this stuff after you've seen me with those women? I mean, if this is awkward for you, we don't have to talk about this.”
”Blake, this is my job. I see you as a client, and I'm happy to help you with these issues. But as I said when you came in, if you are uncomfortable, please, by all means, let me refer you to someone else.” Danica should have felt relieved; instead she felt compet.i.tive. She was d.a.m.n good at her job, and she vowed to treat him like any other client. No more dirty thoughts. Danica didn't see him as a client yet, but she'd push past her sinful stirrings and remain on the professional side of that ominous, thin, gray line that every therapist had to respect. She could be his therapist. She was the best therapist in town, at least she liked to think so.
Blake looked at her, nodding, considering. He leaned forward, then back again. ”You're sure?”
”Yes, I'm sure. Listen, I've helped-for lack of a better word-players before. While that might be something you want to work on, I feel like there's more here than just what you do in your spare time. You've lost your friend, someone who obviously meant a lot to you. Maybe that's where we should start, when you're ready.”
”Maybe. But I'm not ready.”
”Okay. Do you want to continue today's session? We have another fifteen minutes. Or we could end today's here and you can take some time to figure out if you wish to continue with me.”
Blake stood, and Danica fought the urge to reel off her credentials: PhD in clinical psychology from Boston University, undergrad degree from Tufts.
He shook Danica's hand with a firm grip. Danica stood tall, her shoulders back, queen of her therapist domain. ”I'm glad you came in.” Then she added, just to solidify the professional relations.h.i.+p, ”I'll drop your bill in the mail.”
Blake nodded. ”Thank you,” he said, and headed for the office door. He stopped before opening it and said, ”It was nice to see you again.” He smiled, and Danica felt her professional posture slipping away. She cleared her throat to settle her nerves.
”Yes, you too. And I'm sorry about your friend.” Danica watched him walk out the door, and when it was firmly closed, she collapsed into her chair, letting out a long, relieved sigh. Blake Carter. Her nerves tickled with delight. He was right there, in her office. Is this what all the fuss was about with Kaylie and Belinda? That heat that began in your thighs and traveled up to your chest, feeling like it might explode? Now she understood. She stood and paced, her arms crossed, a smile painted across her cheeks. Her cell phone rang, reeling her excitement in like a fis.h.i.+ng line.
She picked up the phone. Kaylie. ”You won't believe who was just in my office,” she gushed.
”Arnold Schwarzenegger? Kate Middleton? Dane Cook?” Kaylie laughed.
”Blake Carter.”
”What? Why?” Kaylie asked, suddenly drained of her enthusiasm.
That's when it hit Danica like a brick in the face. She either had to get ahold of herself or drop him as a client-if he even ever came back. ”I can't tell you. I shouldn't have even said anything. d.a.m.n it.” What had she been thinking? It would be a challenge, but she was up to it. She was not the kind of therapist to lose her license over a blip of bad judgment.
”What the h.e.l.l, sis? I tell you everything.”
Danica heard Kaylie's hurt through the telephone line. ”No, I mean, I can't reveal why he came, just that he was here.”
”Oh my G.o.d, really? Are you going to see him as a client? Isn't that wrong or something?” Kaylie's voice turned serious.
”Not necessarily. His friend referred him, and we have no prior relations.h.i.+p. He hit me in the nose and we talked at the bar. That's as far as it went.”
”Come on. Isn't that like saying you only sort of had s.e.x? Who are you now, Bill Clinton?”
Danica didn't like the insinuation, even if she was a little bit right. Had they kissed, Danica would not have taken him on as a client, but there'd been no physical contact. h.e.l.l, she didn't even know if she liked him, except for his looks. Maybe that wasn't exactly true, but she was a professional. She could determine whom she'd fall into bed with and whom she wouldn't, and Blake was now officially off limits.
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