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“Oh, I get it. You he-man, so you’re macho enough to self-diagnose and self-treat.” Harlow rolls her eyes.
“No. I’m manly enough that I don’t have problems I can’t overcome on my own.”
“Ever think about changing your name to Conan LoneWolf?” she pokes. “A little suggestion: next time you have an unexplained phenomenon with your brain, maybe you should, you know, call a doctor. Get an expert medical opinion.”
She’s right, but I can’t help teasing her back.
“Why would I do that when I can find a hot woman to help me instead?”
“Well, I hope I can help you. On that note, let’s start with this assessment. It covers general speech and language. It’s a functional communication profile and will help me figure out where to start. If I can isolate the problem, I’ll be more effective in teaching you ways to cope with or overcome your issues. I reserve the right to make you call the neurologist and admit to him that, despite being the manliest man ever, you need help.”
“Ugh, you’re torturing me, woman.”
“I suggest you get used to it.” She gives me an acidic smile. “You signed up for a summer full of it.”
“Maybe I should have my head examined after all.”
“Glad you’re admitting I was right. But it’s too late now. You’re mine, and I’m going to need you to concentrate. So that phone of yours that keeps buzzing has to shut up until this assessment is over.”
The damn thing is blowing up more with every passing moment, as if the rest of the world seemingly insists I comment on my relationship with the runaway bride. Her cell should be blowing up, too. “Why can’t I hear your phone?”
She shrugs. “I left it upstairs on the charger. I’ve already talked to Maxon’s wife, Keeley, this morning. She’ll talk to Britta. I’ll deal with my brothers later. Anyone else who wants to talk to me will only get a ‘no comment’ and I don’t have the time or energy to say that a thousand times over the next few days. They can all go to voice mail and kiss my ass.”
That’s such a Harlow response. The woman is an island. A beautiful one, of course. But she definitely isn’t into answering to anyone for anything. “I can’t argue with that. They’re relentless. I’ve had to change my number multiple times. It’s a hell of a nuisance.”
“But it comes with the territory?” When I nod, she sighs. “Fine. I’ll change mine tomorrow. And bonus, Simon won’t be able to call me again.”
“Is that son of a bitch harassing you?”
“Calm down. He hasn’t tried to ring me since the wedding. His family has, but I can handle them. I’m just saying it would be nice to cut them all off so I don’t have to deal with them again. I should actually thank my ex and his wandering sperm. Simon’s mother would have been one hell of a meddling mother-in-law.”
I can’t help but laugh. I don’t see strong-willed Harlow bending to any woman’s will simply to keep family harmony. Compromising, sure. But she will stand her ground and fight for what she believes in, even if she has to go to the mat hard. I admire that about her. She’ll never let anyone walk over her without her consent.
“You’re welcome. I’ll help you get everything changed tomorrow if you’d like.”
“Thanks.” She nods gratefully, then holds out her hand for my phone. As soon as I set it in her outstretched palm, she powers it down and sets it aside. “Let’s ignore the people itching to talk to you and get going. The sooner we finish, the sooner you get coffee.”
For the next two hours, we focus on just about everything communication. Auditory and visual cues, motor skills, attention span, silent gestures, and of course a whole host of expressive and receptive language. Subject changes, intonations, listening, syntax, rate of speech. She even checks my ability to swallow and asks to examine my tongue.
“Baby, you know my tongue works just fine.” In fact, I’m hungry. Yes, for breakfast. But for Harlow, too. It seems way too long since I had my lips on hers, my mouth on her pussy. I’m definitely feeling deprived. “But if you can’t remember, I’ll be happy to remind you.”
“Later, Casanova. We’re almost done, but you have to behave for a few minutes more.”
After we wrap up, she releases me to find some caffeinated nirvana in a pot while she closes herself in the office to assess my situation. I snatch my phone back and power it up as I wait for the hot java to brew. I scan my messages, looking down the list. Sports reporter, gossip columnist, Internet tabloid journalist, former teammate who likes to run his mouth, then a whole host of bottom-feeders who intend to drag me through the mud. I ignore them all. A message from Maxon jumps out.
What the fuck is going on? I know you talked to Griff, but Harlow is not in a good place for your limelight. Back off. Hire someone else for whatever “work” you’ve got.
I’m going to have to convince them—somehow—that the last thing I want to do is upset or hurt Harlow. It sure would help if I could fucking speak to them, but the last couple of times I tried…Nada. Why do her brothers make me so nervous?
“Any conclusions yet?” I ask while the coffee finishes. She emerges from my office as I finally pour myself a cup.
“No.” The soft sounds of footsteps precede her arrival in the kitchen. She’s now sporting a messy ponytail she hadn’t had a few minutes ago and a confused scowl. “Everything on this assessment shows you being somewhere between average and above average.”
“That’s good, right?”
“It gives us a baseline to work with, which is helpful. But this assessment isn’t one I can give again anytime soon. Or administer very effectively if we wait for a time when you’re having difficulty speaking. I was hoping your daily speech would have some hallmarks I hadn’t yet noticed but could work on. Nothing, so I’ll have to fabricate a situation that incites a verbal dry spell and find another assessment that may help me whittle down the exact problem.” She sighs. “I’ll be honest. Since I studied mostly developmentally delayed children, I’m not sure where to go next. I observed other clinicians with adult patients, but none of them had your specific issue. I’ll keep researching and have some ideas to talk to you about tonight, okay?”
“Sure.” I shrug. “All kidding aside, once this annoying shit slapped me in the head a few times with the fact that I can’t predict it and it’s not going away, I didn’t think solving the problem would be simple. If I did, I wouldn’t have hired you.”
