“I know what you’re thinking. I tame my hair when I work.”
She’d read his thoughts, which was disconcerting.
She leaned back against the seat straining the tie-dyed shirt against her breasts. “From what I read about your group and the testimonials on your website, I think you could help Kenny with his self-confidence and to feel…more like a man.”
Prison could drain that from a guy.
“Are you sure he doesn’t need a therapist?”
“He’s too beaten down to talk directly about himself. He likes to be as anonymous as he can. I can pay you, Dr. Elsworth, if that’s what concerns you.”
“It does not. Does he drive?”
“No. I’ll bring him here twice a week.”
He studied her for a minute. “Then I’m game for trying to work with him. I have a new group coming in next week.”
“Well, good.” She stood and held out her hand. She had long slim fingers. Unpainted fingernails. He shook with her and she put her other hand over their clasped ones. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He stared after her as she left. Now why on earth did he find that woman interesting?
* * *
Scarlet and Joe sat in his living room waiting for his soon-to-be ex-wife and her boyfriend, Gayle Marchand, to arrive. “Thanks for doing this with me,” Joe said.
She could tell he was nervous so she grasped onto his hand. “Of course I’m here. I’m planning to be a big part of Seth’s life. I love him, too, you know.”
“I know, sweetheart. I just hate all this.”
“Hopefully, the situation will be resolved today. She signed the divorce papers agreeing to visitation and not demanding joint custody.”
The doorbell rang.
Joe went to the foyer and opened the door. Scarlet heard them talking. “Hello, again.”
“Joe, this is Gayle Marchand.”
“It’s kind of you to have us here, Joe.”
“We need to talk. Come on in.”
Scarlet stood when they entered the room.
“This is my fiancée, Scarlet Smith.”
“Hello, Evangelina.” The woman wore a pretty yellow linen dress, heels and a lot less makeup than the last time. Scarlet held out her hand to Gayle. “Mr. Marchand.”
“Gayle please.”
Gayle Marchand was significantly older than Evangelina and had aged well. He was handsome and sophisticated with his graying hair and sharp brown eyes. He wore designer clothes, deck shoes without socks and an expensive watch.
They sat across from each other.
Joe began. “You’re aware that Evangelina agreed to alter the divorce papers to my liking.”
“Yes. For visitation rights and a few other things that we can live with. I encouraged her to do so.”
