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I just want to be normal, and Dixon makes me feel that way.
Wiping away a stolen tear, I toss my phone onto the dresser and look at my reflection. I look like a complete mess, as my hair is sitting in a lopsided ponytail, and my T-shirt has a cheesecake stain on it from when I missed my mouth. Yet the sophisticated man just beyond my door wanted to kiss me. Why?
Taking a deep breath, I open the door and hope my flushed cheeks don’t give me away. Stepping into the living room, I see the sofa is empty, and Dixon is nowhere to be seen. I didn’t hear him go into the bathroom, but I do a quick sweep just in case he wanted to stretch his legs. After I’ve checked my house—twice—I come up empty. Unless he’s hiding in my closet, he’s gone.
Looking over at my wooden grandfather clock, I see that I was on the phone for twenty minutes.
I should be pissed he left, but I’m actually more pissed at myself for not wrapping things up with David sooner.
Not in the mood to study any longer, I decide to pack up, take a hot shower, and crawl into bed, hoping to dream this day away. However, a loose piece of paper, strewn across my coffee table catches my eye and I bend forward, reaching for it.
In an elegant script are the words:It means, you’re an angel.
I bite my lip and hold the paper up against my chest, not able to look at his sweet words any longer.
“Good morning, Dr. Mathews,” Susanna says as I barge through the door, my rain-soaked coat making a mess on the cream carpet.
“Ms. Vale.” I run a hand through my wet locks.
“Oh, you should have called. I would have met you downstairs with an umbrella,” she says, quickly standing up and handing me a box of tissues.
“It’s June, for Christ’s sake! Why is it raining?” I gripe, accepting a few and wiping down my drenched face.
My briefcase is sopping wet and failed as a makeshift umbrella. “When will this blasted construction be over with?” I ask, brushing down the damp lapels of my gray suit jacket.
“ItisNew York. Once this one is finished, another will take its place soon enough,” she wisely says.
“You’re right. I just wish they’d hurry up so I can park my car in the garage I’m paying thousands for,” I snap.
Susanna nods with a smile. “Bad start to the week?”
If this were anyone other than her, I would be telling them to mind their own damn business, but Susanna is practically family.
“You don’t want to know the half of it.”
“Go. I’ll get you a coffee,” she says, waving me toward my office.
My morning doesn’t get any better, and by midday, I’m convinced I’ll murder my next patient. I’m barely refraining from banging my head on the desk when a soft knock sounds on the door.
“Come in,” I bellow, giving up on reading over my notes for my next appointment.
“Dr. Mathews, sorry to bother you,” Susanna says as she pops her head through my door.
“It’s fine. Come in.” I motion for her to enter.
“This just arrived,” she states. She holds a small, white box in her hand.
“Oh?” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Who’s it from?”
“I’m not sure. The courier said there were no sender details recorded.”
“How strange,” I reply, my curiosity piqued.
“I thought so, too.” She walks over to my desk and hands me the package.
Looking at the top and both sides, I still have no idea what could be inside this small box.
“If this is a severed ear, I’ll be extremely pissed,” I say, and Susanna laughs.
