Overdose: A British Bad Boy Romance

by Raven St. Pierre

  “Us? Yourself and your patients?” he asked.

  Vanessa cocked her head to the side, realizing what she’d said. Typically, she and Simon did these meetings together, but she hadn’t gotten accustomed to running them on her own.

  “Um, yes. Me and my patients,” she replied, never revealing what she actually meant.

  Zander was quiet.

  Vanessa ran her fingers through her hair. “You’re not obligated to come. It was just a suggestion.” She wondered if he was skeptical about mingling with the other patients because he’s a therapist himself.

  “Seven, you say?”

  Her brow quirked when she thought he might accept her invitation. “Yes, and they usually end around nine or so.”

  Zander paced near his office window, out of earshot of his patient who waited peevishly for him to end the call. Despite the man’s presence, Zander still didn’t feel any sense of urgency to rush Vanessa off the line.

  “I’ll be there.”

  She smiled again. “Good. I think you’ll find it helpful.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “See you then,” she said, taking a seat as she prepared to hang up.

  “How are you?” Zander asked, quickly bringing the conversation back before Vanessa could make a clean getaway.

  She laughed a little. “Better than your patient. You shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

  Zander laughed, too, but continued to ignore the man. “You were in my thoughts last night. I wondered if you might’ve had a rough evening.”

  She hated when he made their conversations personal. “I can’t—”

  “Sure you can. I know I’m right. Tell me about it,” he urged gently after cutting in.

  Vanessa sat there chewing her lip for a moment. “I’ve got my share of problems just like anyone else. I may be a little more stressed lately than usual, but I’ll be fine.”

  “Come see me. I might be able to help with that.”

  She wasn’t exactly sure what he meant, but she got the distinct feeling he wasn’t suggesting that she see him in a professional capacity. So she asked, “As a therapist?”

  “If you’d like.”

  She paused again. “That’d be wrong on so many levels I don’t even have time to list them all.”

  “I’m very good at what I do.”

  Again, she thought she read something else in his tone, heard a double meaning, but wasn’t sure.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, right? At the meeting?” she asked, taking control of the conversation again.

  Zander laughed to himself when she responded exactly the way he thought she would—dismissively. “Yes, tomorrow. Or sooner if you decide to let me have my way.”

  This time, she didn’t misunderstand. “It was nice talking to you, Dr. Hale. Goodbye.”

  The breathy tone of his voice carried through the line again when another laugh slipped; this time because Vanessa had returned to the more formal way of addressing him. He knew he ought to make a better effort toward behaving, but she made it so damn hard.

  “The pleasure was all mine.”

  Vanessa stared at the phone after hanging up. She couldn’t help but to smile at his persistence. It was easy to see how he’d convinced so many women to succumb to his wiles. Dismissing the thought, she went on with her day.

  With Zander added to the list, her total was up to seven. Hopefully, he’d get as much from this as she thought he would.

  When she dismissed her last patient for the evening, she sat at her desk organizing her plans for the meeting. Simon’s tall frame darkened her doorway and she wouldn’t look up to acknowledge his presence. He knocked twice and then slowly walked toward her desk before filling the seat across from her.

  “Busy?” he asked.

  “Doesn’t it look like it?” she shot back, double-checking the referral she’d been faxed a moment ago. She adjusted her glasses and continued to ignore him.

  “Listen, I know we don’t have a schedule set in place just yet when it comes to Ryan, but I was hoping that… if you two don’t already have plans… I wanted to take him to dinner and maybe keep him at my place for the evening. I’d make sure I got him to school on time in the morning.”

  She still didn’t make eye contact, but Simon’s request tugged at her heart strings. He missed Ryan and she understood that. There was no need to pack a bag because Simon had everything Ryan would need there at his apartment already. It wasn’t like she couldn’t use the night off, too. Her days and nights were nonstop, so this arrangement might be good for all parties involved.

  “Sure. I don’t have a problem with that,” she answered. “He has his piano lesson this evening, so you’ll have to pick him up there.”

  Simon nodded. “That’s fine with me.”

  She could see in his eyes that he was relieved this talk had gone smoothly. When he lingered a little too long, she peered up at him over her glasses again. They discussed the matter concerning their son, so he had no reason to still be sitting there, in her opinion.

  Simon pursed his lips together and then left Vanessa’s office when she all but dismissed him with little more than a chilled glance.

  She finished the last of her paperwork and then decided the rest could wait until tomorrow. Stress had her back and shoulders in knots, so she rubbed her neck as she approached her white Cadillac parked in her usual spot. Using the keyless entry to unlock the door, she tossed her things into the backseat. However, as she got ready to get behind the wheel, she noticed a small piece of paper tucked beneath the windshield wiper. Curious, she pulled it free and leaned against the side of her car.

  “Drinks at 7:30 tonight—Leon’s on Webster. No excuses,” she read out loud. There was no question who the note was from. In fact, she could hear Zander’s accent hanging on every single syllable.

  Her eyes shifted down to the watch on her wrist—6:55. Her heart fluttered as she stared at the printed words, shocked by the fact that she was actually considering this. It would be nice to get out for a while. And besides, despite how much she protested and fought against the idea, she did look at Zander as her peer more than she viewed him as a patient. Still, there was a bit of an ethical dilemma here.

  While, yes, she definitely needed to unwind, clear her head, she couldn’t quite justify going to Zander. For now, her plans were to take a drive. But if she happened to end up near the bar where he would be… it wouldn’t hurt to stop in.

  Chapter Seven

  “Scotch, neat,” Zander said distractedly, answering the waitress when she came to take his drink order. “And a Gin and Tonic with a wedge of lime, please.”

  The woman nodded before walking away and Zander couldn’t help but to have a look. On a scale of one to ten, she ranked about a four and a half. Disappointed, he shrugged and leaned back in his seat.

  He’d chosen a corner booth far enough away from the entrance to remain inconspicuous, but not so hidden that Vanessa wouldn’t spot him when she arrived. It was more than a hunch; he knew she’d come.

  He loved this place—perfect lighting and the music selection was nice, too. Tonight, being a weeknight, the crowd would remain thin except for the rush of lawyers who usually staggered in around this time. They didn’t make much noise and they only stayed long enough to down a drink or two. Zander chose this particular place with his end goal in mind. Like all of his moves, this one was calculated. Only white-collared patrons frequented Leon’s. At this point, Vanessa only knew Zander: the patient and sex addict, but tonight she’d see that he’s much more than that—established, sophisticated, charming even.

  Just as the waitress set his drinks down on the table, the heavy, gold-embellished, cherry-wood door swung open and Zander’s mouth turned up into a smile. Not only did she show; she arrived fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. Maybe things weren’t as off course as he thought.

  Vanessa adjusted the large purse at the bend of her elbow and then their eyes locked. Zander flashed a broad smile and watched unashamedly
as she sauntered toward the booth—a tight, curvaceous body cloaked in a well-fitting, gray pant suit, one that accentuated her professional demeanor as well as her sex appeal. In his eyes, she was a living, breathing work of art; a flawless collaboration of intelligence and sensuality, two things he sought, but rarely ever found in one woman.

  Zander stood when Vanessa approached, placing his hand on her elbow as she eased into the booth. Once she was situated, he took his seat again. They still hadn’t spoken a word to one another, but just by coming tonight, she had said so much.

  Not realizing it, she was marching to the beat of Zander’s drum—unintentionally handing over what little power she still held on to. He successfully concealed his satisfied grin, passing it off as nothing more than a symbol of how pleased he was to see her.

  “You look gorgeous… as usual.”

  Vanessa nodded and looked around the lounge, searching for familiar faces instead of focusing on Zander’s penetrating gaze.

  “Thank you,” she replied as Zander lusted after her without discretion.

  “Your drink,” he said casually, easing the Gin and Tonic across the table with one finger.

  Vanessa wore a look of confusion, wondering how he guessed it was her preference. Again, his intuitiveness unnerved her, but before he could read too much into the look she gave, she converted it to a smile.

  “Thank you.”

  Zander nodded once and took a sip from his glass.

  “You ordered this without knowing if I’d meet you?” Vanessa watched as the corner of Zander’s mouth twitched, hinting at a smile.

  “I knew you’d come.” He said no more than that.

  Vanessa stopped with her glass halfway to her lips, staring at Zander’s confident expression. Even though she hadn’t even known she’d end up here until seconds before pulling into the parking lot… there was never a doubt in Zander’s mind.

  She took the glass the rest of the way to her lips and drank, letting her gaze drop to the table.

  “Is this your first time here?” Zander asked. It excited him having her so close—close enough to finally catch a whiff of her perfume, close enough where she focused on only him. When she started to answer, he reminded himself to actually listen to her speak and not just stare at those beautiful lips. He imagined they’d be so tender to kiss.

  “Um, yes,” she answered. “I’ve driven past, but never had a reason to come inside.”

  Until now…

  Zander nodded. “The staff is great and they’re one of few establishments that serves quality scotch.” He smiled.

  Vanessa returned the gesture, but with much less ease than the dangerously handsome man seated across the table from her.

  “How’s your drink?” he asked, coyly.

  “Good. It’s um… actually my favorite,” she admitted. “How’d you know?”

  Zander cocked his head to the side and slowly swiveled his glass. “What makes you think it wasn’t just a lucky guess?”

  Vanessa took a deep breath and forced her heart to stop racing. “You just don’t strike me as the type of man who leaves things to chance.”

  “Is that right?” he said flatly. “What type of man do I strike you as?”

  Vanessa ran her hand up through the back of her hair while gathering her thoughts. Zander watched the movement intently, not missing a single thing, right down to the way the tendons in her neck flexed when she tilted her head just a tad.

  “Well… I’d say you rarely let your heart lead; your instincts would never relinquish control long enough to let that happen.”

  “Heart?” Zander smiled. “Interesting choice of words, especially in our profession.”

  Vanessa squinted. “How so?”

  “The concept is just a bit abstract, wouldn’t you say? I mean… one cannot, literally, follow their heart, so, when used in that way… it’s basically a substitution for any and all emotions associated with right-brain thinking.”

  When Vanessa stared back with a confused look on her face, Zander flashed a grin and broke his response down further. Yes, he admitted to overthinking and overanalyzing things often, but he shared his theory anyway.

  “What I’m saying is, you basically deduced that I’m a left-brain thinker—rigid, close-minded, someone who follows the rules.”

  She processed his statement. “You disagree?”

  His brow quirked and Vanessa’s body warmed at the sight of it, and especially when the answer to her question came. “I’ve never been accused of following rules.”

  There was no hiding her smile as she sipped again.

  “All right, if we’re not careful this’ll turn into a shrinking session,” Zander interjected. “And I want us to stay as far away from anything work-related as possible. If you ask me, tonight would be the perfect opportunity for you to finally tell me about yourself. I believe I’m pretty well acquainted with Dr. Ferris. But Vanessa? She’s still a mystery,” he said, observing the way she shied away from his stare.

  She’d never heard him speak her first name before. His accent, the way his voice curved around every syllable, made something she’d heard all her life sound so different. In a pleasant way. It made her uncomfortable when she found herself wondering how she could get him to say it again.

  When she glanced up at Zander over the top of her glasses, a smile bled through her serious expression. Reluctantly, she asked, “What would you like to know?”

  That single question was like being given the master key, as far as Zander was concerned. Carte blanche. What didn’t he want to know? While his first thought was to ramble off the list of things he wondered about her, he’d have to start simple if he wanted Vanessa to continue cooperating. It’s like the old adage about the frog and the pot. If placed in boiling water, the frog would surely leap out and scramble to safety—similar to the way he imagined Vanessa would retreat if he came on too strongly. However, if the heat is slowly increased, the frog doesn’t detect the slight changes in temperature until it’s too late and the boiling water has rendered it defenseless.

  That was the approach he’d take—baby steps.

  Pleased with his minor success, Zander smiled faintly. “Tell me what drives you? What are you passionate about? What can’t you live without?”

  Vanessa didn’t even have to think about her answer. “My son, Ryan. He’s my life.”

  She’s a mother.

  He had no idea, but he loved that she was able to surprise him. His smile grew. “Lucky kid.”

  Vanessa smiled back. “No, I’m the lucky one. He’s amazing.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Seven. Just started second grade,” she offered up. “Oh my gosh, he’s so smart, too. I never worry about what kind of grades he’s gonna bring home. Hopefully, it stays that way through high school and college.”

  There was a light behind Vanessa’s eyes as she spoke about Ryan. Zander took note of it. In that moment, she became more complex in his eyes.

  “I’m sure it will,” he finally added. “Were you a good student?”

  Vanessa shrugged. “Relatively. When I stopped trying to be Miss Popularity and focused, I did all right. College was a breeze, though; I kicked butt.”

  When Vanessa smiled, Zander did, too. “High school and university were both relatively simple for me as well, but I didn’t have much of a social life to interfere, so perhaps that gave me a bit of an advantage.”

  Vanessa didn’t believe him.

  “No friends?” she asked. “No girlfriends?”

  “I had my share of lady callers, but there weren’t any legitimate relationships to tend to or girlfriends to coddle. I kept my dealings strictly sexual. That made things easier.”

  Vanessa nodded, resisting the inclination to psychoanalyze Zander’s statement. This wasn’t supposed to be a therapy session. So, instead, she asked, “Where’d you go to college?” She smiled and rephrased that. “I mean university.”

  The corner of Zander’s mouth turned up into
a smile. “Oxford.”

  “Damn!” Vanessa blurted accidentally. “I mean… wow.”

  Zander laughed and shook his head. The alcohol had truly disarmed her. Thinking the same thing, Vanessa looked at her glass to gage how much she’d consumed. It was nearly empty and she decided she shouldn’t have another.

  “Must’ve cost your parents a fortune,” she added, more reserved than before.

  Zander shrugged and instead of going into his story, he simply replied, “Must’ve.”

  He smiled right after, but Vanessa saw pain behind his eyes even though she knew he wouldn’t elaborate on it. She wanted to ask questions, but didn’t pry.

  “And you?” Zander cut in, interrupting Vanessa’s thoughts. “Where’d you study?”

  “University of Colorado at Boulder.”

  Zander nodded. “Impressive.”

  “Not Oxford impressive,” she replied smiling.

  There was a lull in conversation while he watched her finish the last of her drink, zeroing in on the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed. When she set the glass down, her lip was moist with liquor. He could practically taste it. Beneath the table, his manhood rose, silently calling out for her, but she had no idea the effect she had on him.

  “You mentioned that your brother lives here in the States, too, didn’t you?”

  Zander nodded.

  “Tell me about him. You two must be close if he followed you here.”

  He shrugged with his statement. “Relatively. He’s quite a bit younger, so I’ve been more of a father figure than anything.”

  Zander thought about that, remembering how he’d given his brother his first drink at the tender age of twelve and personally made arrangements for the prostitute who took his virginity on his sixteenth birthday.

  ‘Father figure’ was the wrong term.

  “Perhaps I’ve been more of a rowdy uncle,” he amended with a smile.

  Without asking, Vanessa imagined all the trouble Zander had gotten his brother into and agreed. “You’re probably right about that. How old is he?”