The Sex Surrogate(21)

“Love, a normal person taking a day off is considered good for their mental health. You taking a day off is like the complete opposite.”

“You're such an ass,” I said, taking another spoonful.

“Alright. I'm taking a shower and when I get out, you're fucking sharing that gelato. And then telling me what is wrong with you.”

“I'll bite your hand off if you try. And good luck getting it out of me,” I said to his retreating form, turning my show back on.

He was actually right. I didn't take off from work. Not even when I was down with a case of pneumonia that threw me for a loop for three weeks, making me too sick to eat and losing fifteen pounds. I don't know why I was that way, but I always had been. Every year at school, I got the award for perfect attendance. That was just how I was. Always there. Always there on time, usually early.

But, I had tossed and turned all night long, plagued with dreams about Chase. Good dreams. Him kissing me, touching me, complimenting me. Then not so good ones. Ones of him standing there sneering at me because he found out I liked him. Or out and out telling me I was never anything but a patient to him.

My alarm went off like a damn air horn in my head. And I just... couldn't make myself get up. Get dressed. Go to work. Act like I wasn't in a grumpy mood.

So, I just didn't.

I called the office to have Shay pick up. “What the fuck do you mean you're not coming in? Are you dying?”

“No, Shay.”

“Good, because even that won't get you out of going out with me Friday. I'm holding you to that.”

“I know, Shay.” Actually, I was starting to look forward to it. I needed something else to focus on. “I'm excited to go actually,” I admitted, surprising myself. I wasn't the kind of person who shared information like that.

“Me too, girl. I am bringing you an outfit because, well, I mean... you don't own a damn thing appropriate for what I have planned.”

“Please don't tell me all my bits will be on display.”

“Fuck yeah they will. Make the men drool so they buy us drinks.”

“I think you'll be the one making them drool, Shay.”

“Girl, sometimes I just don't get you. You know you're hot shit, right?”

“If you say so.”

She made a weird growling objection noise. “You're hopeless. Look, I am gonna come to your apartment at like... seven. We'll get all dolled up, then hit the town. Sound good?”

“Great.”

“Aight. Have a good fake sick day,” she said, hanging up.





Jake came to the couch with his own container of my gelato wrapped up in a kitchen towel. For my sake, he had actually put a shirt on. Which was new. He stared at the TV until the credits rolled and I got booted back to the main screen.

“Now spill.”

“There's nothing to spill, Jake. Oh,” I said, thinking of Shay, “by the way, I am having a girl from work over Friday. And you are not, under and circumstances, going to hit on her.”

“What do you mean you have a girl from work coming over?” he asked, looking at me like I had genuinely gone off the deep end.

“I mean... Shay, a girl I have worked with for years, is going to come over here on Friday at seven. We are going to get dressed up and then we are going to go out.”

“Okay. What the fuck? Seriously. Am I on some hidden fucking camera show? Did aliens beam you up and steal your body or something?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I'm just... branching out. Trying new things.”

“Damn. I guess that sex doctor was worth every penny, huh?” At the mention, I felt myself flinch. Visibly. Hard. “Well, shit..” he said, watching me.

“So what do you want to watch next? Another show? A movie?” I asked, silently pleading for him to let it go.

“You caught feelings.”

Mother fucker.

I should have known better to hope for Jake to have a little mercy. He wasn't the type.

“I have not,” I objected, but my voice was too high and squeaky to hold any authority.

“You are a dirty little feelings haver,” he insisted, sticking his spoon out toward me. “I should have known. Bathrobe, mindless TV, junk food. It's all the typical signs.”

“Oh, what the hell do you know about feelings? You barely keep girls around long enough to catch STDs.”

“Hardy har,” he said, squinting his eyes at me. “I don't know anything about feelings myself. But I know about women and their feelings. I have four fucking older sisters, Ava. Trust me, I know.”

I loved Jake's sisters. Their visits were worth every moment that he drove me nuts every other day of the year. Because around them, he cowered like a scolded dog. They attacked him about his shit all over the apartment, about his meaningless pursuit of the perfect body, about his using women like they were disposable. They made him do the dishes. Sweep. Mop. Scrub the bathroom. I would come home to a pristine apartment with dinner on the damn table. Granted, they only stopped in maybe twice a year. But they were like mini Christmases every time.

“You are exhibiting all the typical signs.” At my silent clicking around on the movie menu, he sighed. “Look, I know you think I am just some muscle bound jerk...”

“I don't...”

“Yes you do,” he cut me off, smiling a little. “But it's fine. Because I don't really give you much reason to think otherwise...”

“That's not true. Lately...”

“But I am actually a decent shoulder to lean on, okay? I'll listen. I'll give you the advice you need.”

I took a slow, deep breath, and, still staring at the TV, said, “I have feelings for Chase.”

“There. Was that so hard?”

“Yes,” I shot back, glaring at him, “and you're not exactly proving your case here, jerk.”

He laughed, taking a spoonful of gelato and shrugging. “Hey, I'm still me. Even when I am being helpful. So, what? You just realized it? 'Cause you're a little slow. I've been seeing it happening for days.”

“You didn't think that you should have maybe filled me in on it?”

“And let you miss out on the fun of finding out yourself?”

“Fun. Oh, yeah. It was boatloads of fun to figure out when I was in bed with him.”

“In bed?” Jake asked, eyes bright.

“We're not having sex,” I added quickly. “Not yet anyway.”

“So you think it's legit feelings... or that thing?”

“Transference,” I supplied. “I don't know. I think that is kind of the point of transference. The patient doesn't know whether the feelings are real or not.”

“Maybe you should see your other shrink and ask her.”

My head snapped to his. “Yet again,” I said, thinking about his ideas for telling me to go get some sexy lingerie, “you are a genius.”





Which brought me to Dr. Bowler's office. Familiar. Not near as swanky as Chase's. The waiting room had the typical, awful, brown arm chairs with red and blue pattered seats and backs. The coffee table was strewn with old magazines. I sat for a long half an hour before Dr. Bowler came out of her office, giving me a kind smile. “Ava.”

“Dr. Bowler,” I said, standing. “Thank you so much for fitting me in today.”

“Of course,” she said, letting me into her office and closing the door.

The walls were beige. She had a normal desk, a little cluttered. There was bland artwork on the walls. I walked over to the brown material couch, sitting down and waiting for her to take the chair across from me.

“So, Ava, what brings you here?”

“I think I have transference.”

Her head looked up from her notes, her face trying to look impassive and failing slightly. “For me?”

Oh, ha. That was stupid of me.

“No, no. For my sexual surrogate.”

“Oh,” she said, looking relieved. Which was almost a little offensive. “Okay. Well, what makes you think that?”

“Because I like him. A lot. Way more than I should like my doctor.”

“I have heard stories about Dr. Hudson being very attractive.”

“Whatever the stories were,” I said, shaking my head, “I bet they don't even come close to how good looking he actually is.”

She offered me a conspiratory smile. “Alright. How about we start with how your sessions are going with him?”

“I think. I mean I know... they're going really well. And it's not just the stuff with the sex. I think just... my confidence is improving. I am agreeing to go out with coworkers and I am standing up to Jake.”

“That's amazing. I'm so happy for you.” There was a silent after all these years attached to that, a mix of pity and joy.

“Thanks. But yeah, I don't know. We are going on session five tomorrow and I just... needed to talk to someone before we go any further.”

“Transference is really common in just regular psychological practices. Patients share their deepest fears and desires with their therapists. The patient, therefore, feels closer to them than they do any other person in their lives. That situation is exasperated, I am sure, by an actual physical connection with said therapist. Not only do they know you mentally and emotionally, but they also know you physically. It is, essentially, a mock relationship. Which makes it all the more confusing to be able to understand the professional lines.”

“When it comes to transference, do the doctors ever...”