Hero

by Shani Greene-Dowdell

  Rolling her neck with attitude and a grin, she popped back, “You better. That bag could’ve been rolls of fabric and a Vera Wang dress for my first fashion show. But since I knew you’d be grateful, actually get some use out of it while looking professional, and because I love you, I wanted you to have it. I want pictures of it and us in our outfits to mark the occasion on one of the side walls in the waiting area too.”

  As usual, she’d produced our dresses, simple but timeless and opposite in dimensions. I was determined to borrow hers. It was knee-length, black with a split V neckline and shiny scalloped sleeves.

  “Demanding, aren’t you?” I graciously kissed her on the jaw. “And I love you too.”

  She ignored my affection and checked her watch rudely. “It’s time for me to get going. You have about five minutes before your first client shows up. I know you need space and quiet time to get your head together then.”

  The waist-long ponytail at the back of her head swung with her as she swerved for the door. I walked her out of the office into the small foyer connected to the waiting area. Plump, sweet twenty-one-year-old Athena Clark sat at the reception area. I thieved the pale and quiet Gothic chick in black everything from Malaysia as part-time help. Continuing to work for Malaysia at the fashion house was funding Athena’s college tuition.

  Business wasn’t booming for either of us. California was one of the few states where seeing a therapist was a requirement for making new friends. Fortunately, I had enough savings to see me through for the next five years until my practice picked up.

  Athena waved as we passed by her black lacquer desk. It faced the glass door with Johnston Psychiatric Services stenciled in white on it. At the same time, the front door opened to a giant, blond man. His casual Polo shirt and black slacks framed a mouthwatering physique. I hadn’t been burdened with the stirrings of lust in months. Too bad they were ignited by Tobin Graham, my first client. Who else could it be?

  Excited that I was about to officially be in business, I was glad to greet him myself. He was first of, hopefully, many clients, and he looked oddly familiar. I had no time to delve deeper into that. Muscles stacked upon muscles beneath blond hair swept back at the top, parted at the temple, and shaved low on the sides was entering my queendom. A five o’clock shadow couldn’t hide that chiseled jawline. Full lips and perfect Greek nose were tempting my fingertips to etch them.

  Etch them? What the hell, Cherise? You’re not an artist or about to start crushing on clients. Just for a moment though, I identified with Eva’s instant attraction when she met… Let’s not even think that bastard’s name. He had made my life a living hell without breaking a law once, yet. I got out before he did.

  Intending to be all business despite what my fingers wanted, I stepped past Malaysia to reach Mr. Graham first. She snagged my hand, pulling on it. “Stop, Cherise.”

  I looked back at her as if she’d lost her mental faculties completely. “What? He’s my client.”

  She shook her head. “Look at him, Cherise.”

  The door closed behind Tobin Graham. He stopped at the entrance, mumbling, “Fuck.” His reaction was so off-putting I did as she said because they both were acting strangely.

  Instantly, I knew why he was familiar. This close, he bore an uncanny resemblance to the young thug who stood by while an older killer intimidated Malaysia and I almost twenty years ago. That thug had grown into a fine, good God he was good looking in the light, man. And he had anger issues. And he was bigger. Much, much bigger. Had he faked an appointment so he could re-issue that promise of death? Had I just jumped from the frying pan into the fire when moving here?

  It was my turn to mumble, “Fuck,” then freeze as if standing still would make me disappear. All the therapy I sought after meeting this man, well, Tobin… No, that would be Mr. Graham if he was an actual client. I couldn’t afford to turn him away even if all the therapy he caused me to seek went right out the window. I trembled in place, wondering why he was here. How did he know we were here?

  Out of nowhere, Malaysia yelled, “Get the fuck out of here! We haven’t told anybody anything! Go away and stay away! If you don’t, we’ll call the cops and tell them everything!”

  Tobin or Mr. Graham… For God’s sake, what do I call this man? He raised his hands in front of his swimmer’s body, opening his mouth to speak.

  Athena got her words out first. “Dr. Johnston, what is going on here? Do I need to call—”

  “NO!” the rest of us chorused, all knowing where she was going with that.

  “Okay.” Athena slumped down in her chair, timidly.

  “I told you to leave,” Malaysia verbalized in an indoor voice, thankfully.

  He shook his head, violently. “I’m not here to make sure your gags are still in place. I’m truly here to get help.”

  “How does the other guy feel about you being here?” I croaked.

  He turned his palms up in ‘I don’t know’ fashion and began spitting words out in a hurry. “I haven’t seen my ex-boss, Shane, in fifteen years. I’ve been in the military. My being here is completely coincidental. I didn’t know you, Cherise… ah, Dr. Johnston. I didn’t know your last name was, well, Johnston. I do know you don’t need to worry about anyone coming after you two anymore. Shane doesn’t even know you’re here. He’d have been here already. His hands are full with the authorities investigating my brother’s murder and his illegal business dealings. Those will get Shane about thirty to life. I’m sorry I haven’t tracked you both down to ease your worries about that night. Truthfully, I had my own situation to handle. I’m so sorry about what happened that night.”

  Okay, it was Mr. Graham then since he was here legitimately. We weren’t on Shane’s or Mr. Graham’s radar anymore.

  “Thank God.” Relief dropped heavily on my chest. The release of the fear I’d learn to live with left me dizzy. Experiencing too many emotions at once, I made my way to the nearest padded folding chair, collapsing into one. Many of them ringed the waiting area’s tan walls. Malaysia had gotten her way in here.

  She flopped down in the seat to the right of me, wearily. “I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that man was not still after us until now. I feel like I’ve been walking around on hyper-alert for years but didn’t know it… until now.”

  I patted her arm in comfort. “We both lived like that, subconsciously scared and waiting to hear we were safe. I’d have told you that to make you feel better, but it wouldn’t have meant much coming from me.” Now, I just had a stalker to worry about finding me. So, my fear and stress levels had only dropped a notch or two. Better than the levels they were at.

  Malaysia waited a beat then twisted at the waist to scowl at me. “I don’t know whether to hug you for not lying to me, or slap you for not lying and telling me what I needed to hear. I could have gotten over what happened fifteen years ago that much faster.”

  “You’d have known I was lying. We were in the same boat, remember? Who you heard the words from is who you needed to hear them from.” I pointed at Mr. Graham, who looked as if he was about to bolt right back out the door.

  He had the grace to look apologetic, which looked pretty damn good on him. “Glad I could do some good for both you ladies. I apologize for me and Shane causing you stress and fear of any kind. I know it’s not much. Please understand I was just getting it how I lived that night we met and all the ones before that.” I understood, wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth either. Though I had suspected long ago that Shane was the real threat between the two, Malaysia might not care.

  She had refined holding grudges in her teens. “Well,” she began, slapping her thighs and getting up. “I need a drink after meeting you that night and today. Being freed from my stress and fear is just as stressful as living with it below the surface. Luckily, I had a psychiatrist on tap all these years, and I’m going to need an appointment soon, Cherise. If ever some shit needed to be talked about, this is it.”

  She stood up to he
r full height, which left her a few inches shy of getting eye to eye with Mr. Graham. That didn’t mean she didn’t try. “As for you, Tobin, it’s nice to know your name too. If it was up to me, I’d throw you right back out that door. I don’t trust you, but I know this one sitting behind me. She’ll take every client she can get to make a success of this business. She’s stubborn that way. So that leaves this…”

  She walked even closer to him, breathing in his carbon dioxide as he breathed it out. “If anything happens to her, if she’s broken a nail or tells me she’s coughed too loud when she gets home tonight, the cops knocking at your door will be the least of your concerns.”

  Tobin… Dammit! Mr. Graham sniggered quietly at the danger I was sure she did not pose for him. He was trained in combat. A big guy looming over her who topped over six feet in heels. Malaysia would be like a fly to him, irritating until he swatted her a good one. Athena had gotten a large Styrofoam cup and Ziploc bag of cookies from somewhere. She was munching away in wide-eyed fascination from her front-row seat to the drama.

  Hoping to avert more threats from Malaysia, I hopped up. “Malaysia, berating my client is not the way to make a success of my business. I’m sorry about that, Tob… ah, Mr. Graham. I hope you can understand why she felt the need to say all that to you. You can come with me to my office, and we can get started. If you still want to, that is.” I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. Malaysia would pay dearly for it.

  He nodded once. “It would be for the best if I did stay, Che… Dr. Johnston. Lead the way. By the way, I heard you loud and clear, Malaysia,” Mr. Graham added with a lopsided tilt to his lips.

  Evidently, he found her attempt at threatening him funny. She did not have one inkling of remorse for doing it. I directed her to the door with a discrete bow of my head.

  Only then did she move aside to let him by. “Call me right after he’s gone, Cherise, or I’ll be back. I know how long your introduction sessions last.” That was as ominous as the warning Shane had given us. I swore that man had rubbed off on her.

  “Fine, mama,” I snarked. “I’ll check-in.”

  “Yes, you will.” She threw eye-daggers at Tobin on her way out the door.

  I stretched an arm out, motioning for him to enter the doorway of my office. “This way, Mr. Graham.”

  “Thank you.” He made tracks inside with me doing my damndest not to ogle his backside.

  My damndest was not sufficient. I could tell his ass was solid and firm just from looking. Exactly what I shouldn’t have been doing. Maybe Eva had rubbed off on me. I absolutely ogled my patient the way she did Chad Lowell. Shake it off, Cherise.

  I cleared my throat of the carnal hunger, climbing it while shutting the soundproof door. “You may have a seat on the couch or chair at my desk, Mr. Graham. Either place is fine with me. Both are comfortable.” I tried for a business-like tone but came off all breathy. Not good at all.

  After a quick survey of the room, Mr. Graham chose the couch bathed in sunlight. “Nice office.” Take that, Malaysia.

  “Thanks. It’s new.” After recent events, I was surprised he didn’t make a production of who would sit where. He just planted his delectable rear on a cushion, quietly waiting for me. Why couldn’t all my clients do that? If one particular client did, I’d still be in California, living my best old life.

  “I’ll be right with you.” I proclaimed out of habit while crossing to my desk. Seizing writing supplies in one hand, I set the timer on my watch. Going over the allotted time for each patient cost us all money. Well, it would cost me if I had another client scheduled.

  Right then, it dawned that though my work life was still predictable, it was unrecognizable too. I was blessed that most of the changes were good and would roll with the rest. Pivoting on my heels, I found Mr. Graham leaning forward, arms hanging off his knees. His stormy grays were concentrated on me as if he was hungry, and I was the meal. That damn carnal hunger of mine came flowing back like a tsunami. My dark blue jean dress with a sweetheart neckline and tiny shoulder straps started to shrink around my body. Was it me, or was it getting hot in here too?

  Ignoring the desire to fan myself, I took a gigantic breath in then strutted to my armchair directly in front of him. Why the hell was I strutting? Just sit, Cherise, and stay seated until this was over, and he was long gone. With an end of session-strategy in place, I only needed a plan to get through the session. While I tried to concoct a strategy in my head, he was waiting for me to speak. There was something I was supposed to say, but I came up with nothing. My spiel for kicking off appointments had escaped me. His stare was destroying me. The sun giving him an ethereal glow wasn’t helping.

  Although, I’d put him in the avenging angel category. In my off-hours, I wondered for the umpteenth time if this guy would’ve really hurt us when we first met. Even then, there was nothing sweet about him. Not evil either, unlike Shane. The intensity that billowed off of Mr. Graham like smoke hindered simple thinking back then and now. Worse, the quiet in the room was getting louder. Say something, Cherise.

  “Ah, is it too bright in here? I can lower the blinds a bit. Whatever you need to feel comfortable.” I came off breathless again and desperate. My lack of a sex life was showing.

  Glancing over at the windows, he smirked as if he knew something I didn’t. “No, it’s fine. Sunlight is a free anti-depressant, right? What part of my life do you want to start with? Traumatic recent events or traumatic past events? Fucked up seems to be the theme for my world.” Regret flashed across his handsome mug. “Sorry about the f-bomb.”

  His heavy gaze swung back my way. I realized he was starting the session, doing my job. I was in deep, deep trouble. No one had to know that unless I broadcasted it, though. Crossing my legs, I searched for that clinically-detached headspace and shifted the legal pad for taking notes in my lap.

  “Cursing is fine, Mr. Graham. It helps release anger and stress, actually. That doesn’t mean to go into a family-friendly place and drop more f-bombs. I’m sorry you had more than one trauma, one being too many in my book. But, that’s life and why we need to vent about it. Let’s start at the beginning of your life, working our way through the years.” I almost applauded myself for speaking full sentences.

  Mr. Graham’s eagle-focus dropped to my legs, where the exposed skin tingled. “Well, I was born thirty-six-years ago to drug addicts.”

  I shouldn’t have found him being only a couple years older than me pleasing, but did. A part of me always wanted to get to know him better. He intrigued me even on that fateful night long ago, and he wasn’t kidding about trauma being his life’s theme. As he disclosed, he seemed to go from one tragedy to the next in Long Island as a child. Losing his parents to live in state-sanctioned group homes where adults were one to every twenty boys. The adults weren’t nurturing. It was on him as a five-year-old to decide what was best for him and Greg. That was too much for me.

  No one deserved a childhood more than Mr. Graham and his brother did. Sadly, the other Mr. Graham would never have one. I could give Tobin one. Mercifully, my muted watch’s alarm vibrating against my skin cautioned me time was up. I raised my hand to cut him off midsentence.

  Confused, he inquired, “I say something wrong?” If he said another word, I’d probably cry. Never finding that clinically-detached headspace, I’d hung off his every depressing word.

  “No, just hold that thought for the next session. Time’s up for this one and none too soon. Too much rehashing of the past tends to drag people down in the present.” I was at rock bottom myself though it wasn’t my story. “I’m going to piss you off now with giving you some homework.”

  An arched eyebrow rose up his forehead. “Seriously?” he complained like, well, a five-year-old.

  It was hard to keep a straight face. “Yep. Have you heard about the little carnival that’s sprung up right outside the city for the next two weeks?”

  His other eyebrow jacked up. “Yeah. What does that have to do with homework?” />
  “It’s your assignment. You have two weeks to spend at least two of the evenings at the carnival’s while it's here. You will act like a kid there until you’re tired, then you go home. I promise you’ll sleep like a baby at night and smile while doing it.” Mr. Graham was about as tightly wound as they came.

  His hiked up eyebrows plummeted so his face could rearrange itself into disbelief. “I don’t know how to act like a kid.”

  “Exactly. I bet you have no happy memories as a carefree kid or adult. Your childhood has been one trial after the other. That’s when you should have been discovering yourself. If you do not get acting like a kid out of the way, you will do it when you have kids. Kids have no business raising kids, overgrown or otherwise. Bad things we’ve been through and those we haven’t experienced but should’ve will manifest in other parts of our lives when it shouldn’t. Your girlfriend and future wife will thank me later.” The lucky bitches.

  He started to laugh and kept doing it. It got so bad he fell over sideways on the couch, holding his sides. His humor was perplexing but contagious. I only allowed my lips to curve upward as he got the laughter out of his system. While waiting, I leaned forward to swing the legal pad from my fingertips patiently. What else did I have to do?

  Eventually, his amusement faded away. He resumed an upright position, eyes twinkling back at me. That was probably the happiest he had ever been. “I think I needed that, Dr. Johnston.”

  “We all need that. Now, can you tell me what was so funny, Mr. Graham?”

  A controlled chuckle broke free from him. “You meant who’s funny? You are. I don’t have the faintest clue about girlfriends. I haven’t and wouldn’t saddle a woman with someone who isn’t worthy of her for life.” Make that unlucky bitches then.

  Tipping my head sideways, I asked him, “Why not? Despite our beginnings, you don’t present as a cruel man. After what you just said about women, you’re more protective than anything of them.” Trust me, I’d examined our first interaction from every angle on many lonely nights. Not once had he ever given off ‘I’m about to beat or kill you’ signals. As he divulged more things about himself, he only cemented my opinion of him. He’d been dealt a bad hand at birth. He’d been playing it with a moral guide ever since.