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They were crystal balls of apathy, but he declared victory in being their momentary audience.
She broke the staring contest. “One appointment shy of a full morning.” Dayton had been too distracted to notice the attire gracing her body. It was the exact outfit she wore on her date with Liam. His heart thumped as she raised the paper to-go cup in the air, saying, “Thanks for the coffee.”
“No problem.”
He wanted to ask a simple, ‘Are we good?’ An innocent question which would force her to remember the weekend, who they’d become, if for one night.
“Jeremy Haines is first on the docket. His visits are usually straightforward.” Dayton skimmed the documents within the patient file to avoid skimming his protege. “Looks like he’s due for a medication refill.”
“That’ll be quick. 10 minutes tops.”
Kenna dragged her chair to the right of his desk, her post during appointments that he let her occupy without complaint. She laid out her coffee, lavender notebook and DSM-5. Catching glimpses of her hands and sleeves as she went about the routine did little to satisfy him. Dayton stole a glance in his peripheral, unable to manage a full-on look, and for those two seconds relished in her shape and nearness.
“What’s wrong? You’re acting weird.”
Dayton planted the tip of his pen atop her diagnostic manual. “I understand I never gave you a dress code, so I’m not faulting you, but trust that the next time you show up to my office dressed like this, I will send you home to change.”
She blinked in rapid succession. “Are you joking?”
Chest fluttering, he lifted his chin.
“Only half joking.” A mischievous smile played at his lips but it was dashed as he called, “Come on in, Mr. Haines.”
Red danced across her line of sight when Dr. Merino commented on her outfit but she snuffed it out. Kenna had been mouthy with him in the past and it hadn’t gotten her anywhere, and while anger had been her initial reaction, another part of her swooned at the nonsensical demand.
And so began her descent into madness.
She had damning evidence stacked against him; cold, hard proof that should’ve nipped any chance of emotional attachment in the bud.
So, why did she feel this pull toward him, this incredible if not disturbing ache in her heart that could only be soothed by his presence?
Regardless of how inclined Kenna was to explore it, the smart thing to do was to take everyone else’s word about Dr. Merino and believe that he was a despicable monster.
But she’d seen him at his lowest and they could never come back from that.
Jeremy shut the door as he left the office. Paper in hand, Dr. Merino turned to her, “Would you—”
Kenna pressed her lips to his. They were warm, smooth, not at all what she’d expected.
Her stomach contorted at the brief contact, at being this close to him. Close enough to smell the coffee on his breath, to inhale the mint in his cologne.
A single purse on her part and it was over.
Dr. Merino handed her the folder labeled ‘Haines.’ Indifference cloaked his face and when he spoke his demeanor was calm. Steady.
“Will you file this?”
She accepted the task and flew over to the filing cabinet, opening the drawer marked ‘F-J.’ Kenna’s ribs tightened as she combed through the expanse of folders in search of Haines’ spot. Dreading the thought of returning to her seat, she slowed her search. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead.
This man held in his hands the power to make or break her impending grad school career and she had kissed him based on nothing more than a gut feeling, an undeniable tug of intuition combined with the somewhat reassuring knowledge that he had crossed lines in the past.
She was banking on the fact that he’d cross it again.
Releasing an almost inaudible sigh, she slid the folder into its rightful place. She kept her gaze downcast upon returning to her seat and pretended to review notes in the margin of her diagnostic manual.
At least her busy facade was in character.
Dr. Merino reviewed the file for the 8:15 appointment. She tried to ignore his presence, his movements, but it was hopeless when seated less than two feet apart. The ruffling of papers preceded by the grotesque moistening of his thumb filled her ears.
