Break Me Down

by Jennifer Domenico

  “Good morning, Miss London. I’m Carl. How are you today?” he asks, taking my bag.

  “Good. Thank you.”

  “Wonderful. We’ve arranged an early check-in for you at the hotel. They’re expecting you.”

  “Thanks.”

  We walk outside, and I wait the few minutes for Carl to pull up the car. When he does, I slip into the back and pull off my baseball cap. I seriously need a shower. Leaning back in the seat, my thoughts shift to my appointment later today. I hope this isn’t going to be as bad as I think it is.

  SITTING ON MY TERRACE, I sip my coffee, watching the sun start to come up. I love these early mornings; It’s so peaceful before the city wakes up. I gaze down to the street and notice a few earlybirds out for their morning jog. I lift my coffee cup and smile. Good for them. After reading the paper, I walk inside to shower and get ready for the day.

  I look behind me when I hear the door open.

  “Morning, Dr. Scott,” Lina says when she comes in.

  “Morning. How are you today?”

  “Oh, I’m good.” I smile as I watch her carry in several bags. I walk over to her and take two of them. “Oh, no, Dr. Scott, I got it. I got them this far.”

  “A gentleman never lets a lady struggle.” I carry the bags to the kitchen as she follows me.

  “Thank you.” She puts the bags on the counter. “Your guests will be here at seven?”

  “Around that time. You called the chef?”

  “Yes, and I have help coming at two to set things up.” She pats my arm. “Everything will be ready for the party.”

  “I have no doubt.” I smile as I walk back to my bedroom. I know I can count on Lina to get everything done. It’s one less thing for me to worry about.

  I turn on the shower and let the water run while I brush my teeth. Peering in the mirror, I notice I look a little tired. I really should try to get more sleep.

  The hot spray of the shower washes away any remainder of last night. I should have done it when I got home, but I was too beat.

  After my shower, I dress, selecting a dark gray suit and light blue shirt for the day. I run gel through my hair and spray with cologne. Finally, I put my cuff links on and my dress shoes, and I’m ready for work.

  I walk out to the living room to find Lina dusting. She looks up and smiles. “You look handsome as always, Dr. Scott.”

  “You’re too kind, Lina.”

  “I put a banana on the counter for you. You need to eat more. You’re working too much.”

  I smile, patting her shoulder. “I appreciate your concern.”

  She puts her hands on her hips. “What time did you get home from volunteering last night?”

  “Two.” I sigh. “I know. I’m burning the candle at both ends. I’ll slow down. I swear.”

  “Okay. I don’t want to be in your business, but since your mom can’t be here, I’ll look out for you.”

  “Thank you.” I nod. “I’ll get my banana.”

  “You have a busy day today?”

  I shake my head. “Not too bad. Just one follow-up appointment and one new client this morning.”

  “Good. Maybe you can come home and nap before the party.”

  “I plan on it.” I wink. “See you later, mama bear.”

  She laughs and waves her hand at me. I grab my banana on the way out. As I wait for the elevator, I scroll through email on my phone. Nothing exciting yet. Just the way I like it. In the lobby, the doorman opens the door, and I nod as I pass, stepping into my waiting limo.

  “Morning, Dr. Scott,” my driver greets.

  “Morning, Carl.”

  “Straight to the office?”

  “Yes, please. Any trouble this morning?”

  “None at all, sir.”

  I lean back and relax for the short drive to my office. It’s close enough to walk to, but ever since I started taking on celebrity clients, I get inundated with random questions from strangers on my way. This is the only way to make sure I get peace.

  A few minutes later, we pull up.

  “Any special requests today, sir?”

  “I hope to get out of here early today. I’ll let you know.”

  “Okay. Have a good day.”

  “You too.”

  I step out and walk into the tall glass building. Pressing the elevator button for the 50th floor, I wait as several people get on with me. A woman wearing a bright yellow dress glances at me with a smile, then looks back.

  “Sorry to bother you,” she says. “But could I please get a selfie with you?”

  I smile. “Sure.” At least it’s not an overly personal question. The woman smiles, pointing at me as she holds her phone up. I smile for her and wait for the shot.

  “Oh, cool,” she says, looking at the picture. “Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She gets out at her floor and I sigh. I never meant to become a celebrity, but I guess I am one. When the elevator reaches my floor, I step out and walk to my office. Unlocking the door, I go inside and turn on my computer, double checking my appointments for the day. I have about an hour to relax and prepare. Just enough time for another cup of coffee.

  I STAND OUTSIDE, taking another drag of my cigarette and stare up at the imposing building. I guess it’s time to do this. I put the cigarette in the ashtray and walk inside, looking down at my paper. Fiftieth floor. I press the button and wait. As the elevator climbs, I feel my nerves kick in. Can I really do this? Do I even have a choice anymore?

  The doors open, and I take a deep breath as I walk down the hall to the intended office. I read his name etched on the glass door. Dr. Oliver Scott. He’s the guy. I open the door and step inside. An older woman sitting at the front desk looks up. She’s not a receptionist I would expect him to have. I guess I thought everyone that works here would be as trendy as the decor and address are.

  “Can I help you?” she asks.

  “Yes, I have an appointment at nine with Dr. Scott.”

  She looks at her computer and clicks. “He’ll be right with you.”

  “Thank you.” I sit down and wait, wringing my hands together. Looking around, I take in the space around me. Everything is glass and marble. It’s very cold, but strangely sexy. A few minutes later, I look up when I hear the clicking sound of shoes coming towards me.

  A glass door opens, and I turn when I hear my name called.

  “Miss London?” a different woman says. “Dr. Scott is ready to see you.”

  “Okay.” I stand and follow her down the long narrow hall. She opens a large, stainless steel door, and I walk past her, stepping inside the office.

  The man sitting at the desk looks up and smiles. “Miss London?”

  “Yes, hi.” I extend my hand, and he shakes it. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Scott.”

  “Nice to meet you too. Please have a seat.”

  I was not expecting him to look like this. Or to be this young. Or this hot. I can’t stop staring at him. Everything about him from the brown shade of his hair, to his soft green eyes, to the dimple in his left cheek is amazing. He reads my paperwork while I admire his strong jawline and prominent Adam’s apple. Good God, he’s supposed to help me, and the only thing I can think about is climbing all over him.

  “What we’ll do today,” he says, “is just start with some history, so I can understand where you’re coming from. Then from there, we’ll discuss treatment. How does that sound?”

  I nod. “Fine.”

  “Why don’t we move to the sitting area, Miss London?”

  “Kaia.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You can call me Kaia.”

  “I prefer to keep our interactions formal for now.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Okay.” He smiles and walks to the area where there are several arm chairs. All I’m thinking right now is how much his suit costs, and if it was custom made for him. Sure looks like it was.

  “Your father contacted me about you.” I
nod. “Would you like to tell me how you ended up needing my assistance?” he asks, as we sit down.

  I clear my throat. “My parents insisted I seek treatment.”

  “So you don’t want to be here?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Do you think you have a problem?”

  I bite my lip considering his question. “I’m not sure yet,” I repeat.

  “Okay,” he says, crossing his leg over the other. “Why don’t you tell me why your parents think you need me then?”

  “Uh, sure.” I look down at my hands. “I don’t know if you know who I am or not.”

  “I do. You’re the daughter of a high profile divorce attorney, correct?”

  “Yes, that’s right. I’m sort of a big deal on the social scene right now, so they like to write stories about me.”

  “Go on.”

  “Well, my Dad’s PR people are tired of the negative publicity my behavior brings to his reputation.”

  “I see.”

  “So,” I pause, trying to fight back my grin. “I sort of did something a couple of days ago that’s probably going to be all over the news in a few hours.” I look up. “I was given an ultimatum to seek help, or my Dad’s going to step in and start running my life. I’ll be on lockdown socially.”

  “And how do you feel about this?”

  “Which part?”

  “The ultimatum part.”

  I shrug. “I see their point, I guess. I was just having fun. I don’t mean to hurt anybody.”

  “But are you hurting yourself?”

  “No. I’m happy.”

  Dr. Scott tilts his head. “Are you sure?”

  I don’t answer because I can’t, so I just look down at my hands.

  “So you came to New York,” he continues, “to get out of the spotlight in LA?”

  “Well that, and Dad said he wanted me to see you because you’re the best. My parents want me well as soon as possible. Dad has a huge case coming up and doesn’t want any distractions.”

  “Alright. Why don’t you tell me what you did that caused the ultimatum?”

  I frown. “Do I have to?”

  “Do you want my help?”

  I nod. “It’s harder to talk about in the cold light of day.”

  “Yes, it always is. Take your time.”

  “Okay.” I exhale slowly. “I went out as I usually do and was partying with some friends.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  He nods as I continue. “I met this guy and his friends. They bought me drinks and eventually, I agreed to go to another bar with them.”

  I look up at him as he watches me intently, legs crossed, hands folded in his lap. He nods. “Continue.”

  “Okay so, I left my friends and went and partied with the guys. Later on, we went back to their apartment and started messing around.”

  “You and the guy you met?”

  “Me and all the guys I met.”

  “Okay.” He doesn’t react to this news. “Then what?”

  “Then I, um, I let them record some stuff with my phone. I fell asleep, and I guess one of them posted it on my social media page.”

  “It?” he questions.

  “The video of me, uh, giving one of the guys a blow job.”

  “Ah.”

  “Dad’s PR people caught it and took it down quickly, but it was still seen by lots of people. I have a lot of followers. Someone contacted a popular gossip website who plans to publish it today. It made it look like we had a gang bang.”

  “Did you?”

  I shake my head. “No, it was just a lot of messing around and stuff.”

  “Were you asleep or passed out?”

  “Asleep. I don’t drink to the point of passing out.”

  “Drugs?”

  “No.”

  “Just sex then?”

  “Yeah. So now I’m the socialite with the sex tape. Pretty cliché, huh?”

  He remains expressionless. “Okay. So now you’re here, and your people want you to deal with what they perceive to be a problem, but you perceive as having fun. Is that correct?”

  I nod. “Pretty much.”

  “I can’t help you, Miss London.”

  I crinkle my brow. “Why not?

  “Because you don’t think you need my help, and I don’t accept forced clients. You have to want this or we’re both wasting our time.” He stands and walks back to his desk, leaving me stunned.

  “I flew all the way to New York for this?”

  “Your choice.” He narrows his eyes at me. “Unless you were forced to do that, too.”

  “Wow.” I rub my forehead. “Okay. I guess we’re done then.”

  “Goodbye, Miss London.”

  “Bye.”

  I walk out and stand in the hallway for a minute trying to comprehend what just happened. He kicked me out. I pace the hall. I can’t go back to LA and say that he won’t take me on. Ugh! This is so irritating. Why is it if a girl sleeps around she has a problem, but when a guy does it, he’s just a guy? I clench my jaw as I consider my options. I have to convince him to take me or Dad will ruin my life. I don’t have a choice.

  I knock on the door and wait.

  “Enter,” he calls out.

  I walk in and stand in front of his desk. “I need your help, Dr. Scott.”

  “No, what you need is to look like you’ve accepted help so you can carry on your life in Los Angeles. That’s not what I do, Miss London.”

  “Maybe I don’t know how to recognize it’s a problem,” I try. I just need to convince him that I’m serious even if I have to lie. “Everyone around me thinks it is, so maybe I’m in denial.”

  He sits back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I’m positive you’re in denial.”

  “Well then help me see the light. Please? I really need you.”

  He studies my face for several seconds as I wait anxiously for his response.

  “How young were you when you became sexually active?”

  I pull my head back, crossing my arms. “Consensual or otherwise?”

  He raises his eyebrows. “Consensual.”

  “Thirteen.”

  “Otherwise?”

  “Ten.”

  “Who?”

  I clear my throat. “My babysitter.”

  “Male?”

  I nod. “Yes. He was my cousin.” I lift my hand. “And I’ve already been to therapy for that.”

  “I see.” He glances at the desk for a moment before looking back up at me. “How many partners have you had?”

  “I have no idea, Dr.Scott”

  “When is the last time you had sex?”

  I close my eyes briefly and sigh. “About five hours ago on the flight to New York.”

  “Did you know him?”

  “No.”

  “So…,” He stands and walks to my side of the desk. “You were molested by a family member as a child. You became sexually active at a young age, you’ve had too many partners to count, and you had sex with a stranger on the way here. Oh, and you have a sex tape about to drop.” He leans against the desk. “Do you still think you don’t have a problem, Miss London?”

  I lower my head as the truth sinks in. I’ve never stopped to add it all up before.

  “I, uh, guess I never thought about it until now.”

  “Answer me. Do you or do you not have a problem?”

  “I do.”

  “You do what?”

  I look up at his towering frame and sigh. “I do have a problem.”

  “Sit down.” I sit and stare out the window in front of me in shock. Dr. Scott hands me a glass of water, and I sip it. He sits at his seat in front of me. “I’m glad you came back in. I want to help. This is what I do.”

  I nod as the truth of my situation sinks in.

  “My methods are unorthodox, but if you trust me, they work,” he continues. “I will put you in difficult situations, and we’ll talk through it and devel
op some coping mechanisms for when the urge arises. When you leave here, you’ll be able to handle any situation that comes your way.”

  “Okay.”

  “You can do this. I’ve seen far worse cases than yours and those people are doing well now.”

  I nod and sip my water.

  Dr. Scott looks at me with concerned eyes. “You’re here now, Miss London. This is the beginning of a whole new phase in your life. Now that you’ve met me, you’ll never be the same.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now, we’ll just start with the simplest, yet hardest part of all of this.”

  “I’m ready.”

  “I want you to tell me why you’re here. Tell me the truth this time.”

  I nod and clear my throat. “I’m here because,” I pause, swallowing hard. “Because sex is ruining my life.”

  Dr. Scott smiles. “I’m here to save you, Miss London. Let’s get started.”

  I STAND AND WALK OVER to the arm chair area again, watching her slowly follow me. It’s always amusing to me to see them come in here claiming to be fine and then seeing the reality hit them.

  She sits down, still looking shell-shocked. Taking a deep breath, she looks up at me with the prettiest green eyes I’ve ever seen. She has to be one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever encountered. I can’t think about her like that though. I have a job to do.

  “Do you have questions?” I ask.

  “I do.” She sets her water glass down. “You help people with sex addiction, right?”

  “Primarily, yes.”

  “I guess I need to understand what the difference between addiction and promiscuity is.”

  “That’s a very good question. I define it simply. Promiscuity is a propensity towards casual sex and potentially being indiscriminate with your partner selection.”

  “Like Kyle today on the plane.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “And addiction?”

  “Addiction is when you can’t control your desire for something. If you seek it out at inappropriate times or in potentially dangerous situations.”

  “Like leaving the bar with four guys you don’t know.”

  I smile. “Perhaps.”

  “I get it.”

  “Do you repeatedly put yourself in situations where you could be harmed?”