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“But we kind of did…stuff in my office.”
Mae shut her eyes and shook her head. “No. No. No! Why? Do you want to get caught?”
“It just sort of happened.”
“Oh, well, that makes total sense,” she said with a massive infusion of sarcasm. “So, his dick just happened, by chance, to slide into your hand or your mouth. In. Your. Office.”
“Oh, I never saw his dick. Instead, he—”
She waved her hand in dismissal. “Whatever. I don’t need details about my client.”
Too bad because I really had wanted to talk about Hawk’s wonder tongue with someone.
“This ends now, Lila.” Mae looked as serious as a sex education tape from the eighties. “It’s about so much more than your professional career. If you get fired, you could easily find work anywhere. You already have a great reputation in your field.”
She let out a big sigh. “He’s bad news. I thought you were getting off on his bad-boy vibe, but I never thought you’d actually do anything with him.”
So, he found my number somehow. Big whoop. There must be something else Mae wasn’t telling me. “Why is he bad news? Is he married? Has an STD? Impotent? What?”
I searched Mae’s face for any tells that I had guessed right, but she was a pro at keeping a neutral expression. I was breaking all the ethical rules of my profession by asking her.
“You know I can’t say, but I will tell you this. I don’t know anything about him. He’s been in therapy with me for weeks, and he barely speaks. Plus, I can’t get a read on him past that don’t-fuck-with-me vibe.”
“So, he’s the silent type with scars on his face and wears ripped jeans. Doesn’t mean he’s a bad person.”
“Have you not looked into his eyes? I’ve never seen anything more frightening in my life. The man’s dead on the inside. I practically need a Valium before his sessions.”
What was she talking about? They were intense, reflecting the pain and torment he’s endured but not frightening.
I knew deep down in my soul that she was wrong about Hawk. “You don’t see what I see when I look at him.”
“Good god, Lila. Enough with the horny act.”
“You wouldn’t be saying these things about him if you had seen him at the shelter. Seen the way he was with the animals. He’s sweet and caring. The dogs love him. You know dogs are much better judges of character than we are.”
“Don’t let your soft spot for animal lovers cloud your judgment. Or maybe you have a hero complex, and you see him as a rescue, like an abandoned dog. A lost soul who needs your help, like that time you decided to do your residency in that hellhole. How many times did I have to pick you up from the hospital because one of your clients had gotten violent with you?”
I understood what she was afraid of. But she was wrong. “It’s not the same, Mae. He’s not a charity case.”
“Don’t tell me you have feelings for him already?”
“How could I? I don’t even know him.” I knew there was goodness in him. His commitment as a volunteer at the animal shelter was proof of that. I knew he had a gentle side when he told me about giving his cat Daisy some cuddles. I knew he was a man of few words, but when he spoke, it was deliberate and direct. No bullshit, no nonsense, no useless babble.
“Good. Promise me. No more Hawk for you.”
At the mention of his name, butterflies flitted in my belly. I groaned.
“What now?” Mae asked.
“Don’t say his name out loud.”
