Reading Online Novel

Waking Up in Vegas(22)



The voice that answered was sweet and soothing and vaguely familiar. When I explained who I was and she’d replied that they’d been anticipating my call, I nailed it. This was the babe with the legs that went clean up to her neck, the one who conducted our meetings every year.

“Why were you expecting my call?” I mean, seriously, was I that blatant that they’d been pre-planning an intervention?

“Bill Kalani’s secretary called to set up the billing, and to brief me on what their expectations were.”

I nodded, although she couldn’t see me, and asked when we might start so that we can get the twelve visits over with.

She laughed, a rich sound that tickled up my spine. “It’s a twelve visit minimum, Mr. Morgan. If you make reasonable progress, we could be done in twelve. Then again, you might need more. We’ll just have to see. Are you free at two today?”

“I normally sleep during the day, actually.”

“For the next six weeks, I suggest that you act like the rest of us and sleep at night. Our latest appointments are at four. And those are all pretty well booked.”

Unbelievable. So now, not only did I have to change my personality because of Jensen MacKenzie and her joking, but now I got to rearrange my whole life. Hoo-fucking-rah.

I took the appointment and went home for a nap.



***



I admit it freely—I was a little nervous about letting someone crawl around inside my head. Especially someone of the female persuasion who was holding my job in her hands.

No, that was not a euphemism for my junk.

My own contract was up for renewal in eight weeks. In the past, the only worry I had about my continued work for the station was whether or not the salary was going to increase, and by how much.

Now? It was astounding to me that my favorite body part could actually cost the rest of me my paycheck.

While I sat in the waiting room, I resolved to downplay anything the doc had been told. They were all misunderstandings and things taken out of context.

At two on the dot, Dr. Cheska came out and introduced herself.

“I recognize you,” I said. “From the seminars at work.”

“Which we will have to revamp, since they’re obviously not working.” She smiled and gestured for me to follow her down the hall.

“You don’t have to change your shtick; I’m sure I can explain anything you’ve been told about me.”

We reached her office; she told me to pick a chair and, as she closed the door, I took a moment to appreciate the way her ass filled out her skirt.

Dr. Cheska circled behind her desk, flattened one hand on a file folder that was straining the rubber band wrapped around it, and said, “Do you want to start with the most recent complaint, or the very first one lodged against you?”

I eyed the thick folder and backpedaled a bit. “They gave you my employee file?”

“No, just the disciplinary one. Which would be more accurately called the lack of discipline file.”

In more ways than one, apparently. I’d never heard about any of them. I looked at the ceiling, blew out a breath, and said, “Pick one at random, and let’s see if I can’t shed some light on it.”

She settled into her chair, snapped off the rubber band, and flipped to the middle of the stack. “Tack Morgan stares every time I walk by.”

I snorted. “Staring is now a punishable offense?”

“It is when the line beforehand is Tack Morgan told me I have an outstanding ass, then went on to make cartoon ooga-horn and panting sounds.” The doctor raised an eyebrow and her mouth was a thin line. “Do you want to hear the line after the one about the staring?”

I remembered that conversation. “One of the women in promotions had bought some panties with butt padding. She was asking the receptionist how it looked. And since she has the kind of flat ass that normally comes along with those big tits of hers, and she used to complain about it to anyone within earshot, me included, I wanted to let her know that it was an improvement.”

The good doctor squirmed in her seat and dropped her eyes back down to the sheet in her hands.

“You, on the other hand, have a nice—and real, I hope—ass, Doc. But getting back to the issue of my staring; I wanted to see if it moved when she walked. I wondered if it looked natural.”

Her eyes flipped back to mine. “And did it?”

“See? I’m not the only one who’s curious about padded panties. And believe it or not, it looked okay. But I told her that once she took her clothes off, whoever she was with was going to be disappointed and she’d be much better off presenting herself as she actually was.”

Dr. Cheska scribbled something in the margin of the paper, saying, “That would explain the next remark, then. He told me it’s not nice to go around with bait under my skirt.”