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She smiles curiously at me as she unwraps her present, and she appears to be genuinely tickled by it: a t-shirt with Britney Spears giving the finger on it and the words “it’s Britney, bitch”; an “I’m a delight” raccoon hoodie that matches mine; and a mug with “World’s Okayest Therapist” on it, along with an assortment of herbal teas and a ginormous bag of Cheetos.
There are real tears in her eyes as she looks up at me. “Thank you, Britney,” she says with a huge smile. “Truly.”
I do an elaborate curtsey as she reaches for the envelope. When she rips it open, her eyes widen before they snap to mine.
“Britney—”
“Consider it payment for my overdue therapy invoices,” I say with a wince.
“I can’t possibly accept this.”
“Anything is possible if you put your mind to it, Doc.”
She blinks in shock at the wad of cash in the envelope, then looks back up at me and shakes her head. “You…you really don’t have to—”
“Yeaaaah, I kinda do,” I sigh. “I looked up your rates online and then added a pain in the ass tax for every time I’ve shown up here for an unscheduled session.”
Dr. Fallon stares into the envelope again. “Britney, this is way more than necessary. And for the record, I was happy to help.”
“Um, there’s also a little extra in there for incidentals.”
Like, a hundred grand extra.
Dr. Fallon looks at me curiously. “Incidentals?”
“Emotional distress. Mental anguish. The whole tying-you-to-a-chair thing, which I’m pretty sure technically counts as kidnapping.” I tick them off on my fingers. “Plus all the snacks? Oh, and that amazing bergamot soap I took from your guest bathroom.”
She frowns. “You stole my soap?”
“I think the important thing to focus on here is that I’m taking ownership of past boundary violations. That’s what you in the biz would call growth, right?”
“Huge growth,” she smiles. “I'm proud of you, Britney.”
My face pinches. “I…should also come clean about something else. Um…my name—”
“I know it’s not Britney.”
My brows arch sharply as she casually lets that pop out with a shrug.
“But,” she continues, “we can keep it as Britney, if you like. I don’t have to know—”
“Bella,” I say, smiling at her. “My name is Bella.”
Before I know what’s happening, we’re hugging.
And I really don’t hate it. At all.
“Mia,” she says as she pulls back to smile at me. “My name is Mia. And it has been delightful getting to know you, Bella.”
40
DAMIANO
“So, just putting it out there… The last time you had me put on a blindfold before you drove me somewhere mysterious, it ended up being a magical night under a meteor shower.”
I smile to myself as I glance over at Bella, currently sitting blindfolded in the passenger seat of the Aston Martin. “Sure did.”
“I’m just saying, the bar has been set preeeetty high.”
