The Fixed Trilogy(Fixed on You, Found in You, Forever With You)(245)

So I said, “No. I trust you.” Though sometimes my trust was more of a work-in-progress. I turned to kiss his cheek. “I know you’ll take care of me.”

“Always.” His lips met mine just as his intercom buzzed. He sighed against my mouth. “I’m sure that’s Patricia letting me know my next appointment is here.”

I stood and then offered my hand to help him up. “Guess my blowjob plans are shot to hell then.”

His eyes darkened. “Maybe I could make them wait.”

Laughing, I swatted at his shoulder. “Shut up. I didn’t have blowjob plans. For all that I’m conceding to, I think I’m the one who deserves the sexual favors.”

“Tonight.”

“I’m holding you to it, H.” I reached up to give him a final peck on the lips. “Meanwhile, you should know that I hate you a little.”

“You do not. You love me.”

I shrugged. “Same thing.”

Hudson walked me out so he could welcome his next client in as I was leaving. I’d almost made it to the elevators when Trish called after me.

I walked back to her desk, wondering if she meant to scold me for keeping Hudson occupied.

“This was delivered for you while you were with Mr. Pierce.” Trish handed me a simple white envelope with my name written in block letters on the outside.

It didn’t occur to me that I should have given the envelope to my bodyguard until after I’d opened it and found the same business card that had been stuck in my books at home. Celia Werner, Interior Design.

The knot in my belly tightened. She’d been on foot when I’d left her at the restaurant. How could she possibly have followed me so quickly? Did she simply guess that I’d come here? Why hadn’t Reynold seen her coming up in the lobby?

“Who gave you this?” I asked Trish, aware that my voice was more demanding than would be deemed polite.

“I don’t know. A courier. I didn’t pay attention.”

“Was she blonde, blue-eyes—”

Trish cut me off. “It was a he.”

That explained why Reynold hadn’t seen Celia—she’d had someone else deliver it. As for knowing I was at Hudson’s office, well, wasn’t that predictable of me too?

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. All she’d left was a silly business card. It didn’t hurt me. It was meant to scare me, that’s all. Meant to warn me that she was watching. That she knew how to get to me.

Resolving to not let her get to me, I opened my eyes. I quickly scrawled a note to Hudson on the white envelope and put the card back inside. “Thank you, Trish. When Hudson is free, can you give this to him?”

I really wanted to burst through his doors and show him personally. Then convince him that both of us should leave it all behind and go to his spa.

But that would be running away. And running away never solves anything. Or so, that’s what everyone always says.





Chapter Nine



After I left Hudson’s office, I decided to try to forget my tension by wrapping myself in work. I was successful for most of the afternoon, but the anxiousness and stress of the day lingered just under the surface. I had to be at the club to meet Gwen by eight and imagined it would be a late night. I longed for a run, but decided instead on a group therapy session. Thursdays weren’t the day I usually went, but there was a session at six led by my favorite counselor. I could grab a bite to eat, hit the group, and be back in time to work that evening.

I shifted in my rusty folding chair in the Unity Church basement as I focused on listening to the others share. Most of the Thursday night regulars were strangers to me, and it seemed most of their addictions were hard to relate to mine. One person was a shopping addict. Another was addicted to social media. There was a gamer there too, a guy who was just as consumed with buying the latest system and game as he was with playing them. The only person that I felt even slightly connected to was the tattooed sex addict that I’d seen on other nights as well. I’d heard her speak before and recognized a lot of her same fears and frustrations as my own.

“Would you like to share anything, Laynie?”

I was more than a little surprised when the group leader called my name. Members weren’t required to speak at each meeting—or ever, if they didn’t feel comfortable—so it was odd for Lauren to call on me specifically. She knew me, though, having counseled me since the early days of my recovery. And if she couldn’t tell from my demeanor that I had something on my mind, the fact that I’d shown up twice in one week had to be an indicator.

I gave the customary history of my illness and then paused. Since I hadn’t planned on speaking, I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to say. After a breath, I said, “I’ve had some extra stressors in my life recently, and I’m here because I feel like it’s causing me to backslide.”