Off the Clock. Roni Loren
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Thanks.” He jogged out the back door, no doubt in a hurry to reconnect his call with Henry.
Ori watched him leave and sent Marin a questioning look. “He’s staying with you?”
“Yeah, he starts art school in New Orleans in the fall, so he’ll be here for the summer.”
“He didn’t want to stay with your family?”
“I am his family. Our mom passed away when he was nine, and no dad in the picture, so I’ve been raising him since then.”
“Wow. I’m sorry about your mom.”
“We’ve done all right.”
“Yeah, he seems like a nice kid. Good looking, too. You better keep him away from east campus. We have a residential teen program, and those girls will fall on him like starving tigers.”
Marin laughed. “He has a boyfriend, so I think he’s safe.”
“Ah, well keep him away from west campus then where the teen boys are. Same threats apply.”
Marin smirked. “Noted. Hey, you want some coffee or something? I think I can find the coffeepot.”
Ori waved a dismissive hand. “No, I’m heading into town to do some shopping. I’m on call tonight, so I have to get out while the getting’s good. I just wanted to stop by and welcome you to the insanity since I know it can be a little intimidating to start here. The place can be kind of cliquey. So know you have at least one friend already.”
Marin reached out and gave Ori’s hand a squeeze. “Thanks. That means a lot. Believe me.”
“We’ll do coffee soon. I expect sordid stories from the X-wing.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She gave one last wave and headed out the door. Marin let out a breath and sat down at the small dining table in the kitchen nook, the drive to Louisiana, the move, and all the transition over the last month catching up to her. She’d been so focused on the money and getting her and Nathan here that she hadn’t let the reality of what was in front of her sink in.
Monday she was starting a job that she had no experience in. And the person responsible for training her didn’t really want her here. Over the past few years, she’d walked into things with confidence because she could stuff her head with the knowledge she needed beforehand. She never had to be off the cuff. She had the tools in her pocket at all times when she went into a research environment. For her dissertation defense, she’d practiced so much that she could’ve recited the thick document by heart. There was no question they could’ve thrown at her that she hadn’t prepared for. But there was no armor she could walk in with Monday.
People were going to want her to fix their sex lives.
Problem was: How was she supposed to do that when hers had started and ended on the same night, at eighteen with the very man she had to report to tomorrow?
She lowered her head to the table and tapped it lightly against the wood.
Time to give a whole new meaning to the term “faking it.”
Donovan strode into the office on Monday morning with his second cup of coffee and his training plan already forming in his head. He’d thought long and hard about this over the weekend and had decided that he needed to get out ahead of this Marin thing right at the gate.
Dr. Suri expected him to fail. She expected him to run Marin off like he had the others. He hadn’t successfully mentored a more experienced therapist, so she’d sent him a complete newbie—a bigger challenge—to prove her point. If he couldn’t train Marin, Suri had a solid reason to tell the board why she’d gone in a different direction with the promotion. Hell, maybe it’d give her a solid reason to get rid of him altogether: Does not play well with others.
It’d be easier to defend himself if it weren’t true.
He set a steaming latte on Ysa’s desk. “Good morning, sunshine.”
“Only fifteen minutes late. That’s almost early for you.” She took the offered coffee and sipped. “Mmm, the expensive stuff. This is why I put up with you.”
“She here yet?”
Ysa tilted her head toward his closed office door. “She got here early. Brought pastries for us. I gave her a quick tour, showed her the office she’ll be using, and then set her up in yours. Try not to scare her off, all right? I think I’m going to like this one.”
“Because she brought you croissants and showed up on time?”
“That doesn’t hurt.” She sipped her latte. “I’m easily bribed. But I will deny that if you call me out on it.”
“Noted.”
“But no. I liked talking with her. Did you know she developed a sex ed program for LGBT kids?”
“Yeah, I read through her research over the weekend. Robust program. Good stuff.”
“I would’ve killed to have that around when I was in high school.” She shook her head ruefully and then shrugged. “I guess I like that she spent all that time fighting for the underdog. The clients here need someone like that.”
He smiled. “I love that you see our wealthy, celebrity clients as underdogs.”
“Hey, people here are fighting a lot of demons. That’s David against Goliath if I’ve ever heard it. Money can’t always save you from yourself.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” He tossed his coffee cup in the trash. “Hold my calls for now. I need to get Dr. Rush up to speed on a few things, and then I’ll have her shadow me for the rest of the day on my appointments. You may want to warn the clients that I’ll have a second therapist in the room today.”
“Got it.”
He rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen the tension that was grabbing hold, and pushed open the door to his office. Today was going to be about training, but he had to get something out of the way first. He stepped inside his office and shut the door behind him.
Marin looked up from her spot on the couch, her hazel eyes widening for a moment before she smoothed her expression into one of professional passivity. She had her phone in her hand and she dropped it into her bag. “Good morning, Dr. West.”
“You only have to call me that in front of clients. I think we passed the formalities stage a long time ago. Don’t you?”
She gave a curt nod. “All right. Donovan, then.”
He tried not to focus on the way her pale pink gloss slid over her lips as she smoothed it. He’d sucked that bottom lip between his teeth. Tasted it. Focus, West. “So before we get started, how about we slay the elephant and get that out of the way first?”
Her hands were in her lap and they flattened against her thighs, like she was shoring herself up, preparing for impact. “Which elephant should we tackle first?”
He leaned against the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. “What do you mean?”
“Seems we have a herd. Or is it a parade of elephants? I can never remember.” She shook her head as if admonishing herself for the tangent. “So which one are you talking about? The fact that once upon a time we slept together? Or how about that you don’t want me here? Or is it the one where I ran into you half-dressed and covered in lipstick the day I interviewed?”
He cringed. “Yeah, sorry about that last one. I feel like a dick for not realizing who you