A Sure Thing

by Marie Harte

  Ava sat listening to him discuss his latest issues with the world and his place in it while he pondered what new to do with himself. He’d taken a step back in his progress, and she remained patient while he worked through it.

  Her gaze strayed to the portrait she’d framed, the one of her smiling.

  She wanted that for Rob. To help him find his own sense of self and inner peace.

  Serenity—something that had been sorely missing since meeting that blasted Landon. She mentally compared blond Rob to blond Landon and knew it was no contest. Landon had the best personality and best body she’d ever seen, touched, or tasted.

  And like that, she was aroused, missing her man.

  My man? Oh my God. What is happening to me? I’m turning into Claudia!

  Independent Ava had seemingly gone for a long walk and had yet to return.

  “My art is everything to me, usually.” Rob sighed.

  She struggled to remain present, in Rob’s world, not her own. Time to be a better doctor, she told herself.

  “Ava, I can’t help myself any longer.”

  “Rob, what’s wrong?” She used her firm but soft voice, in command of the appointment, still providing a safe environment for Rob. He sounded worried, and he needed a comforting, dependable figure.

  “I love you, Ava.”

  Wait. What? Ava? What had happened to calling her Dr. Rosenthal? “Rob, we need to talk.”

  He watched her with adoration.

  She wanted to slap that adoration off his face, then slap herself for not paying better attention. Then Landon, just for good measure. “Rob, I’m your therapist. Not a girlfriend or someone to spend affection on.”

  “But I love you.”

  She was kind but clear. “This happens more than you might think, you know.”

  “It does?”

  “It’s not your fault. It’s easy to transfer emotions. I help you feel better, and you associate that positive feeling to me, personally, instead of to the therapy I’m giving you.”

  “But I love you,” he said again, looking lost.

  She truly felt for him. “How can you? You don’t know me.” And he didn’t. Ava didn’t share her ideas or interests during a session. She listened—usually—and offered advice to best help her patient. It had taken her a while, but now she didn’t even have to think about not bringing her home life into discussions, which she’d used to try to build a rapport. Now Ava let the patient talk and only commented on his or her life, as pertained to therapy.

  “Ava, you’re wrong. I do know you. You’re so beautiful.” Rob stood. “So kind and thoughtful.”

  When he crossed to her, she stood and subtly rounded behind the chair, putting it between them. “I’m flattered, Ron, but I have a boyfriend already.” A personal fact, but hopefully one that might snap him out of his deluded affections. “Besides which, it would be unethical and even harmful for me to ever date a patient. I care too much for your well-being to harm your psyche that way.”

  “You have a boyfriend?” Rob looked crushed.

  “Yes. I do.”

  “Oh.” He blinked. “But does he really know you, Ava?”

  “Dr. Rosenthal,” she reminded him. “And yes, he does. There’s a person waiting for you out there, Rob. Waiting for you to see how amazing you are, so that you can recognize when she’s feeling that same love for you. But that’s not me. I’m just your therapist. A person who cares deeply for you. But Rob, this isn’t about love. It’s about wellness and respect.” She gave him a sincere, if distanced, smile.

  He sat, his face flushed, and stared at the floor. “I feel so embarrassed.”

  Whew. Crisis passed. “Don’t.” She rounded the chair and sat in it again. “This has happened before with patients, and no doubt it will happen again. You just need to realize why you feel this way.”

  “I do?” He brushed a tear from his cheek, looking like a little boy.

  “Yes. Why don’t we end this session with what you’re planning to do this weekend? Didn’t you tell me there was a new exhibit at the art museum?”

  He sniffled, and she handed him a box of tissues. Their fingers touched, and he held her hand for a moment. “Thank you, Dr. Rosenthal.” He let her go, seeming more at ease with himself. “There’s a new collection of contemporary Korean art I wanted to see.”

  “Will you go with anyone?”

  “I was going to take my mom, but I have a new neighbor. She just moved in, and I don’t think she knows many people.” He cocked his head, studying her. “She looks a little bit like you, actually.”

  Oh boy. “Will you ask her?”

  “I don’t know. We haven’t really met except to wave at each other. Why would she want to go with me, anyway? She probably has a boyfriend too.”

  “You could always ask and find out. Worst case she says no, and you go yourself. Best case, you go and find a new friend.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ask her. But I’ll think about it.”

  That he’d mentioned the woman at all gave Ava hope. Rob was noticing the world around him more, not so caught up in his anxiety. They talked for another ten minutes before she wrapped things up.

  He’d opened the door to leave, then turned to her. “I’m sorry, Dr. Rosenthal. It won’t happen again.”

  “What won’t happen again?” Landon asked, standing right behind Rob in the doorway.

  No two ways about it, he dwarfed Rob in every way possible. Including an inability to recognize boundaries. She glared at Landon, but he was too busy scowling at Rob.

  “I’m sorry, Rob. Landon, could you please move out of the way so Rob can leave?”

  He grunted and moved to the side, but he continued to stare at Rob until he left.

  She hurried to his side and yanked him into the office, then closed the door without slamming it, like she wanted to. “What the hell was that?”

  “Huh?” He turned to her. “Hey, baby. You look good.” He grinned. “I love those skinny skirts you wear.”

  She felt icy to her toes, so angry she had a hard time holding on to her composure. “You do not. I mean never—ever—come to my office and intimidate my patients. Do you understand?”

  Landon frowned. “Easy. I was just asking the guy what he had to be sorry about.” He looked her over. “You okay?”

  “Get out.”

  “Why? I thought we could do lunch if you had the time. I’m off early today.”

  She opened her mouth to say something else then noticed what he was wearing. Holy cow. She tried to hold on to her anger in the face of his sheer beauty. “You’re in a suit and tie.” Talk about devastating.

  “Yeah.” He sighed. “The job, it’s a bitch.”

  She worked to swallow, seriously in lust with the obtuse hunk not comprehending her frustration. “Yeah, well so am I. Do you understand what I said to you?”

  He started to look uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to barge in. The door was open, for Christ’s sake. But I’m not sorry for making sure your patients aren’t messing with you.”

  “See, that won’t do.”

  “Won’t do what?”

  She sighed. “I’ve seen this coming from a mile away, yet I’m still surprised. And I know better.” She’d gone through this song and dance so many times before. She should be used to it by now. Yet she wanted to wallow and cry, because she didn’t want it to end like this. But why bother letting something that could never work limp along until it just dragged?

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Can we do lunch or not?”

  Tension and grief ballooned inside her. She’d made her lists for just this reason, so she could avoid messy entanglements and breakups with men who didn’t suit.

  She moved back to her chair, where she felt more in control. “Landon, we need to discuss something.�
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  “What?” He crossed to sit on her couch while she stood, and the reminder of their first time playing therapist and patient at her place wasn’t lost on her.

  Why did he have to make this so difficult? “We’re never going to work.”

  He didn’t look upset. Instead, he eased back onto the couch. “Ah. So this is the real breakup scene, huh?” He glanced around. “Nice place. I’m game. Go ahead and give me your spiel.”

  She blinked. “I’m trying to tell you that we’re too different. That this, us, together, is nice now, but it can’t possibly last.”

  “Why? Because I’m not a shrink too? Just because your parents are both medical people doesn’t mean everyone has to be in the same field. My parents are way different.”

  “That is not the point. You try to control everything, but you can’t do that with me. I have a brain.”

  “That you use way too much, if you want my opinion.”

  “I don’t!”

  He stared. “You’re yelling at me.”

  “You’re not getting the point.” She felt like she was in another brawl. But instead of Claudia, this time, she fought a losing battle between her mind and heart. “I care for you. Deeply.” I damn well love you, and isn’t that a pickle? “But our personalities will never mesh. You try to take charge of everything, and I can’t have that.”

  “Seriously?” He clasped his hands behind his neck. “That’s what you think this is about? Because I wanted to make sure you’re okay, that some jerk wasn’t hassling you, you think I’m trying to take over your life?”

  Put that way, she sounded silly. “No. Wait. That’s not what I’m saying. You try to order everyone around, and you don’t respect what I do.”

  He scowled. “Now that’s just bullshit.” He lowered his hands to his lap. “This is all about you not confronting your feelings.”

  “What?” She shook off the odd sensation of being counseled by Landon. “Since when are you a therapist?”

  “Since I led Marines into battle, since I deal with people with problems all day every day.” He huffed. “Honey, I don’t need a degree to see that you’re running scared.”

  “I am not.”

  “Yeah, you are.” He seemed gleeful about it, the jerk.

  “You’re not listening to me, and I—”

  “Go on. Tell me how you really feel about me. Be honest.”

  “You first,” she sneered. “But no, Landon Donnigan doesn’t have emotions. You’re good at sex, and you’re fun to be around. But you never want to discuss anything meaningful.”

  “Hey. I told you I was PO’d about leaving the Corps.”

  “Wow. Big revelation. You want the truth, I think you’re scared.”

  He jolted to his feet, looking furious and mean and sexy as all get-out. “First off, I told you not to shrink me. Second, I am scared, okay? You want the truth? You got it.”

  She hadn’t expected that. “What?”

  “Yeah, because I feel a lot of stuff for you. I like you. I think about you all the time. I even think about kids and marriage and shit. And I know, I really know, I love you.” His eyes looked wild, and he stared at her with intensity. Then he seemed to calm down. “But you don’t want me to share, do you? Because then you’ll have to realize what you feel for me. Your bullshit lists are there to keep you from ever finding a guy.

  “A real guy. Not some fucktard who wears Armani or has a doctorate behind his name. But a flesh-and-blood guy who thinks you’re terrific and smart and sexy. You can make me laugh, and like now, you make me want to pound my fist through the wall. You’re being a real bitch, Ava. And you know it.”

  “So what if I am? I’m entitled.”

  He barked a laugh. “So you are. Look, we both know you’re in love with me. Just admit it. I did.”

  She sputtered, “Y-you… I… You can’t be… I never…”

  “Yeah, I thought so.” The smug bastard turned to the door.

  “Where are you going?” Do I really sound that shrill?

  “I’m hungry. So I’m going to eat. I’m a simple guy, Ava. I might not be into architecture and poetry. I hated school and never want to go back. I love beer and football. And I love you.” He said it again, seeming almost smug each time he repeated it. “I also love how big those green eyes get each time I say it. You’re scared. Damn. Never thought I’d see you running from me, but I guess you really are like all the others.”

  That was just mean. “Fuck. You.”

  “Oh, big words, Doc. I’m scared,” he mocked. “Tell you what. When you get the gumption to come find me, I won’t make you work too hard to apologize. But I will give you a great big ‘I told you so.’ And you have the gall to accuse me of not sharing my emotions?” He shook his head. “I poured out my heart to you, and what did I get? Nothing but a big fuck you. You’re going to remember that some day when you’re telling that to our kid.” He walked through the doorway. “Call me when you get yourself together, Doc,” he called over his shoulder before leaving through the front door.

  She stood there staring at her empty doorway.

  Dennis soon filled it. “What was all that yelling?”

  “I’m sorry.” She felt numb. And confused, but mostly numb.

  “No worries. It’s just you and me here today, and I’m free until two.”

  “I have a one o’clock.” She blinked and wiped a tear away.

  Dennis looked concerned. “Ava, what’s wrong?”

  “I think I broke up with my boyfriend. But he thinks I’m in love with him and isn’t taking it well.”

  Dennis walked to her and patted her shoulder. “Are you afraid of him? He didn’t threaten you or anything, did he?”

  She wanted to laugh hysterically. “Landon, threaten me? Only with an ‘I told you so.’” The arrogant prick. She started to grow angry. “Dennis, he had the nerve to tell me I’m afraid of my emotions. Me. A clinical psychologist unable to handle the fact I might be in love.” She snorted. “Whatever.”

  Dennis’s expression surprised her, because he started laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “He nailed it. I want to meet this man.”

  She wanted to kick Dennis too. “That’s ridiculous.”

  Dennis sat her down on the couch with him. He kept a hand on hers, connecting them, grounding her. “Ava, I want you to listen to me. I’m biased, because I love you like my own daughter. But since your father isn’t here to talk some sense into you, I feel it’s my duty to.”

  She groaned.

  “That sounds just like my daughter when I talk to her.” He squeezed her hand, then let go. “I’ve known you for nearly three years, and in all that time you’ve never seemed so happy as you’ve been lately.”

  “I don’t see any difference.”

  “Of course not,” he said drily. “We never seem to see ourselves as others do from the outside. You’ve been closed off, emotionally, dealing with a new practice and a new life away from what’s familiar.”

  “It’s been over two years. I wouldn’t say I’m new.”

  “New isn’t the right word. But I’m not wrong. You’re still processing what it means to help others, and at a cost to yourself. It’s important in our line of work that we find a happy balance. You devote yourself to the practice. And that’s commendable. But what about you?”

  “I’m happy. I have a list that I’ve—”

  “No lists. Tell me. What makes you happy?”

  “My career. My family.” She hated to say it.

  “And?” He gave her a knowing look. “Is that all?”

  “And Landon,” she muttered.

  “Why did you suddenly start dating after all this time? Is it because you realized you were missing something? Were you lonely, Ava?”

  Exactly. “I’m thirty.” She shrug
ged. “It’s only logical I’d start to consider my future. I’d like to have children, and the potential for medical problems gets higher the later in life you have them.”

  “In English.”

  She sighed. “Yes, I was lonely. I figured it was time to start dating again, maybe find someone special.”

  “And have you?”

  “I don’t know.” But she did. “He’s great, but we’re different.”

  “Does he not respect you?”

  “No, he does. But he’s a protector, and he likes to give orders.”

  “So do you. Sounds to me like you’re both more alike than different.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Ava, you spend your days telling people how to heal themselves. And you’re used to being in command of yourself. As therapists, we have to project professionalism. We keep ourselves locked up, not allowed to be human, because we’re ‘the doctor,’” he said, using air quotes. “But sometimes we live in our heads too much, and we don’t see what’s right in front of us.”

  “But Landon and I are so new. How can I know he’s The One if we practically just met?” She felt out of sorts. “Geez, Dennis. We’ve only been out on a dozen dates at most.”

  Dennis shook his head. “When you know, you know. You do realize you’re using ‘The One’ in conjunction with this man. The last guy you talked about, the only description I heard was that he smelled like corn chips.”

  “Oh. Aaron.” She sighed. “That was a long time ago. I spent so much time investing in my career when I first moved here. But I realized I needed balance, like you said. I’ve tried online dating, but it’s hard. Then I met Landon. He’s arrogant, bossy, and big. Different than the type I’d normally go for.”

  “Ah, your Marine.”

  My Marine. “We seem to click in so many ways. But we’re also different. It just doesn’t seem possible it can end well.”

  Dennis nodded. “It can be difficult sometimes to separate what we see in here from our own lives. So much dysfunction and unhappiness can surround us. But when we communicate and are honest with each other, that’s when the magic happens.”

  “Did you know, with Greta, I mean?”