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I run my hand through my hair. “Nope.” I stand. “This . . . is . . . was a mistake. Sorry to waste your time. Send me the bill.”

“Sit down,” he says in a stern voice. “You are here for a reason. Let’s see it through.”

I roll my lips, unimpressed, and look around before finally sitting down.

“Tell me about yourself, Henley. What do you do for work?”

“I’m an engineer.”

“You work for someone?”

“I have my own company.” I look over to the window as I plan my escape.

He nods. “I see.”

“And you are single, married? Gay or straight?”

“Straight and single,” I reply curtly.

“Okay . . .” He smiles and waits for me to say something.

I don’t.

“And how would you describe yourself?”

I scratch my head in frustration. “I don’t know.” I shrug. “Normal.”

“Okay, good.” He smiles as he watches me intently. “And what brought you here today?”

“My friend.” I shrug, embarrassed. “Made the appointment for me.”

“And what’s his name?”

“Blake.”

“Blake who?”

“Blake Grayson.”

“Yes, I know Dr. Grayson. He asked me to squeeze you in as a matter of urgency.”

“He’s rather dramatic.”

“Does he have reason to be?”

“Nope.” I look around the room—anywhere but at him.

“So there has been something happening that has made him concerned about you?”

“In his mind.”

“And what was that?”

I shrug. “I stopped seeing someone. It’s no big deal. He’s overdramatizing it.”

“This has upset you?”

I cut him off. “I really don’t see what this has to do with anything.”

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