by MJ Knight
“Mummy, this is for you,” the little girl said as she presented the drawing to her mother.
“Debbie that’s beautiful! Thank you.”
“That’s you,” Debbie explained, pointing to the central figure. “And this is me with Noodles.”
Who was either a dog, a cat, or a lump of bread dough, Julianne decided. But the Debbie figure was wearing a red dress and green shoes.
“That’s very well done, Debbie,” she said. For a child that age, it really was quite good. Maybe Debbie would become an artist. “You’re very good at details.”
“What do you say?” her mother prompted.
“Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome.”
“We need to go now and let this nice lady get on with her work.” Debbie’s mom looked up and smiled at Julianne, and said, “Thanks again.”
“I enjoyed it. Bye Debbie!”
“Bye!” She waved good-bye with her drawing and trotted off with her mother.
Julianne was surprisingly sorry to see them go. She had enjoyed watching Debbie work, and children never frightened her.
She put her drawing things away and just sat for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth of the sun. Then she got up and walked down through the park towards the shops, feeling better than she’d felt in a long time. She seemed finally to be at home in the world, to have found her way back to being human. It felt like a blessing.
People noticed, too. People smiled at her and she returned their smiles and added “Good morning!” She realized that she could send people into their day with a good word, a connection to something outside themselves, and it awed her to have such power. The old woman who ran the little produce market where she shopped told her she looked as if she’d fallen in love.
“I’m in love with the morning anyway,” Julianne told her. But her thoughts turned briefly to Adrian.
She stopped at the florist’s shop to buy some flowers, and the handsome, red-haired young man who wrapped them put a pale pink rose in with them. “A rose for a rose,” he said.
Julianne started to tense, but gave her rubber band a light snap and the tension disappeared. “Thank you, you’re very kind,” she told him. Another small victory, another moment where she fit into the world without bumping or scraping.
She was so pleased, so transported by her morning out in the larger world, that as soon as she got home, without even thinking about what she would say, she found Adrian’s phone number and called him.
It rang four times, then went to voice mail, and Julianne, who had expected to hear his voice, his soft, velvety voice, was struck dumb. She hung up and stared at the phone as if it was a bug.
It’s for the best, she decided, and went into the kitchen to put her groceries away.
Chapter Eleven
There was the smell of coffee even before he opened his eyes, and the sound of Olivia’s voice in the distance. She was angry, speaking sharply to someone. She was always angry at someone, Adrian thought. It was one of her many unpalatable traits and the reason why he never liked going anywhere with her. She picked fights everywhere she went and treated wait staff and other service people like crap.
But coffee sounded like exactly what he needed so he opened one eye. She must have been waiting in the doorway for him to wake.
“Good morning, sunshine. Breakfast is ready.”
Adrian stretched and rolled onto his back. The thick black terrycloth robe she’d bought him lay across the covers. “Let me take a quick shower and I’ll be right out.”
“Shall I join you?” she asked. Coyness was not a trait he particularly liked, but beyond that it was damn unattractive in anyone so voraciously sexual.
“Please don’t. I want to make it quick so I can have coffee.”
He ignored her expression of disappointment, which led her to stick out her lower lip in a faux pout.
“It’ll stick that way,” he said before disappearing into the bathroom.
She was in the kitchen drinking coffee when he emerged, freshly showered and shaved, teeth brushed and his shorts and tee under his robe. He poured himself a cup and sat down across the breakfast bar from her. He wasn’t ready to be fondled before he was caffeinated.
A box of muffins was open on the counter. “Oh you were fighting with the delivery guy.” He picked out one that looked like blueberry.
“I wasn’t fighting with anyone. That boy wanted me to believe that they were out of the honey orange muffins. Imagine, this early! I’ll never order from there again.” She was rapidly using up the good will of all the local merchants and would have to start ordering food from Indiana soon.
Adrian thought briefly about reminding her that the world didn’t revolve around her wishes, but decided against it. That conversation never ended well. None of the ones where he criticized her did.
“The thing is, Liv, I’m serious when I tell you that this is over.”
“No you’re not.”
“Don’t do that!”
“Darling, you know better. You know you can’t leave me.” She scraped a shell pink lacquered nail lightly across the back of his hand
“You’re going to threaten me, aren’t you? You always do.” He hoped she wouldn’t but she always did, and no matter what he told himself, no matter how hard he tried to play tough guy, and tell Olivia that he didn’t care if she did kill herself, to have her death on his conscience would be unbearable and he knew it.
She dropped another cube of sugar into her cup and stirred. “I never threaten you, darling. You misunderstand my concerns.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well then I suppose you won’t be interested in the news I have for you.”
“No.”
There was silence for several minutes before he finally said, “Oh, all right, what is it?”
“Nothing. Just a commission for the new Pangborn building. They want a series of graphics that will reflect what their company stands for in the market. It’s for their lobbies. Nearly fifty, if I’m not mistaken.”
He tried not to show that he was interested. “Pangborn usually goes though Brent Davidson.”
“That was then, this is now.”
“You’re serious?”
“This isn’t just a lot of money, Adrian darling, this is a lot of exposure for original work.”
“What’s the time frame?”
“I believe it’s negotiable. The building is far from finished.”
In spite of his reservations he began to consider the idea. He could do the job fairly quickly, he supposed. It sounded as if they wanted work that was visually linked. Variations on a theme was one of his favorite modes of work.
“Yes or no, lover? I have to call Jeff Pangborn this afternoon and let him know if you’re interested.”
What she meant was, “Will you be staying with me for another year? eighteen months? Indefinitely? She presented him with little contracts: his presence in her life for a while longer in exchange for a lot of work, I can get you placed at an agency in exchange for regular sex, I could have you fired if you’re not compliant.
Adrian had been ready to tell her that she could do what she wanted, that if he got fired, so be it. But this? It was his dream coming true. To do original art on that scale? Wasn’t it worth a couple of nights a week? She knew his candy.
“Okay, set up a meeting for me. Not Friday, though, I have my therapy session.”
In spite of himself her throaty laugh excited him. “Oh darling, you get all the therapy you need between my legs.”
Chapter Twelve
“Adrian...” Dr. Lange sighed when he entered her office for his appointment. “I’ve been giving your revelation a good deal of thought over the past week and I’m going to ask you a very important question. Why should I not end our professional relationship as of this session?”
“Why would you?”
“Because you’ve created a clear conflict of interest for me. I can’t now listen to the two of you
talk about your issues with the kind of professional detachment I need. I cannot listen to Julianne talk about a new person in her life and not tell her that I know it’s you.”
“She talks about me?” he asked, feeling so idiotically pleased that for a moment he forgot that this might be the last time he was to see Dr. Lange. “But I don’t understand that at all. You counsel married couples, don’t you?”
“Some, but—”
“It’s the same thing.”
“No, it’s not, Adrian. Not even close.”
“How is it not?”
“First, you’re not married, you’re not even involved. Second, you are both dealing with issues regarding sexuality and emotion. Third, you want me to not tell Julianne that I know about the relationship which is very unfair to her. She deserves the same advantage you have. You’re putting me in a terrible position.”
“How if I don’t talk at all about her? I’m here because of my problems dealing with Olivia. I don’t have to refer to Julianne at all. I’m not sure there’s any chance she and I can go past friendship in any event, so why even fret about it?”
Lange looked skeptical. “I’m not sure I could feel comfortable that way.”
Adrian sat down and folded his hands. “I just realized how Olivia must feel with me telling her to get out of my life and her doing whatever she can to keep me from walking away.” He bit his lip. “How odd that this has given me more empathy for her. I’m not sure I wanted that.” He looked up at Dr. Lange. “How could I make this more comfortable for you?”
She gave it some thought. “We’re going to have to talk to Julianne about this. She has to know that I know about your friendship.”
“Does she have to know that I’m interested in her sexually?”
“You’re making this very hard for me, Adrian. I do understand why you wouldn’t want that, but under the circumstances—”
“But it only exists in my mind and to force me to tell her that would be a violation of my trust, wouldn’t it? I understand that she’s fragile in matters of this sort. I don’t think it would do her any good to know things that aren’t likely to affect her at this time. I think you know me well enough to know that I’m not a man to take advantage of her.”
She was tapping her pen on the pad of paper, and a crease had appeared between her brows. “But I don’t know you that well, that’s the problem. However, there’s a level of interference in your lives which I cannot, in good conscience, allow myself All right, that’s something that doesn’t have to be said at this time. But she has to know that I am aware of your friendship, and she has to agree that I can’t discuss you with her or her with you.”
Adrian felt a rush of relief so profound it nearly made him dizzy.” Okay, deal.”
“We’ll tell her at the end of your session.”
He nodded, dreading it. Julianne was smart. If Lange was going to be making a point of clearing the air between the three of them, there had to be a deeper point than friendship, and Julianne would eventually guess what it was. Adrian decided he’d fling himself off that bridge if and when he came to it.
“Tell me about your week,” Dr. Lange suggested clearly trying to bring back some semblance of normalcy to their session.
“It’s been... interesting.”
“That’s an interesting word.” She smiled and he relaxed. “Tell me what’s been happening.”
Adrian began to tell her about the art commission he’d been given and Olivia’s part in the process. “It was manipulation pure and simple, and I let her do it because it was what I wanted.”
“Did you get the job?”
“Yes. It’s a good one, too, everything I’d ever hoped for. I expect it’s an even trade.”
“Do you?”
“We’re each getting something we really want out of it, which balances the things we don’t want.”
“What doesn’t she want?”
“She doesn’t want me to leave her.”
“Yes, but that’s not something she still has to deal with. She arranged this position in order to not deal with it. So what is it that is in balance with getting you to stay?”
Adrian blinked. “I... I don’t really know, except maybe she deals with me telling her how much I don’t like her.”
“Why do you suppose you do that, Adrian?”
“I’m angry.”
“At her?”
“Yes. No. I’m angry at myself for staying. I feel like a whore now.”
“Is there anything you do like about her?
He gave it some thought. “I like that she tells me what she wants. She’s not afraid to. I’ve always liked that. I guess it’s what made being a sub so appealing.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a masochist?” he joked.
Predictably, Dr. Lange didn’t smile. Rather she said, “I see no evidence of that.”
“Because... because...” he closed his eyes and searched his memories. “Because I think that’s what Carolyn would have been like. Not the kind of woman Olivia is, not a manipulator or...” He let the thought trail off because he couldn’t think of a nice way to describe how he felt about Olivia’s character and personality.
“In what way?”
“Carolyn always let me know where we stood. Even when I made the advance, she didn’t hesitate to let me know that it wasn’t what she wanted from me. There was no pussy-footing on her part. She told me straight out that it wasn’t going to happen and that she was shocked I’d felt it could.”
Lange nodded ever so slightly as she wrote. “So you’re capturing with Olivia what you feel it would have been like with Carolyn?”
“Um... I suppose.” Though he didn’t, not really. And then like a lightning bolt he was struck by the truth. “No. No,” he breathed, almost overwhelmed by what he was beginning to understand about himself and the way he’d chosen to live his life. “No, it’s not... It’s because if someone cares enough about you, they let you know what they need, what they expect of you. They don’t make you guess. They tell you what you are to them, what you mean. They see you.”
There were tears. Where had the tears come from?
“Until Olivia, Carolyn was the only person ever to tell me what she expected. She never made me guess, she never turned away.”
Dr. Lange handed him some tissues. “I thought you said—”
He shook his head. “No. I walked away from her. I tried to make it her fault and it wasn’t. She tried to tell me, and I turned my back on her. Olivia tells me what she needs. She’s never held back, never made me feel like a bug that needed squashing.”
Lange sighed. “So why are you so angry? Surely then Olivia is what you want?”
“But she’s not, and that’s my fault not hers. I’m angry because I can’t find the final piece of the puzzle in her. I feel like I’m so close to it and it just keeps eluding me. Jesus, I’m a mess and I treat her like shit because of it, because I’m so angry.”
“All right, let’s work with this a little more,” Lange suggested steering him away from the self-recriminations.
“Do we have to?” He wanted to wallow in his misery. It felt like a safe place.
“What’s the final piece of the puzzle?”
He was surprised that she didn’t see it. “Love,” he told her. “Even emotional validation isn’t enough if there isn’t love. It’s a shame really.” He got up and walked over to the windows. “That I can’t find it in my heart to love Olivia.”
“You’ve said that she doesn’t love you. Don’t you suppose that love should be a mutual thing?”
“What I think of love isn’t the issue here. Why I can’t love Olivia is.” He looked over his shoulder. “Aren’t you going to ask me why that is?”
“No. None of us ever really understand why we love one person and not another.”
“Do you speak from experience?”
She looked uncomfortable. “That’s not germane to the discussion.”
“I thin
k it’s about as germane as it gets, Doc, but okay. Let it go. Any suggestions on how I might start to love her?”
“It’s not for me to suggest.”
“Oh come on. Surely you have some insight into how people can change the way they interact with others. I mean that’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
Dr. Lange put her pen down. “You know better than that, Adrian. I’m not going to tell you what to do, and you’re not going to turn that into some sort of reason to doubt me. We have to trust one another’s boundaries.”
He sat down again and grinned at her. “I don’t really want you to tell me what to do. I know I can’t love Olivia. Not ever. Which means that I have to break it off with her no matter what that means.” He glanced at his watch. “Is this hour never going to end?” he joked.
“As it happens, I was just about to mention that we’ve got a few minutes left, and I’m going to guess that Julianne is in the waiting room. Why don’t we call her in here and get this over with?”
Chapter Thirteen
Julianne was looking forward to seeing Adrian that afternoon. She’d thought a lot about him in the last week, and realized that even if they were never destined to be anything but friends, then that would be enough for her. Nevertheless, she’d taken extra time over her clothing and makeup that day. She didn’t often wear makeup, but she’d been told by friends that when she made the effort she went from being pretty to being beautiful. And she wanted to be beautiful for Adrian. She wanted him to think of her that way.
She’d arrived at the office a bit earlier than usual, and was sitting in the waiting room trying to read the book she’d brought along, a mystery by one of her favorite authors, one she’d been waiting on for months, and yet she wasn’t able to concentrate on it. She read the same page over and over again, gave herself a mental shake, turned the page and repeated the process.
She had gotten two tickets to the theater from Mr. Westin as a special thank you for having done what he called, “The best job I’ve ever seen.” She was going to ask Adrian if he wanted to go with her. She was going to ask him out on a date. She understood what people meant when they said “nervous as a cat.”