Home Again. Joan Elliott Pickart
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to trust me if he feels that you don’t? Think about it.”
“I…”
“You have my address on that form I filled out. Joey and I will be waiting for your arrival Friday night. We’ll all cook dinner together, just like a family. Right? Right.” Mark nodded. “See ya.”
Mark strode from the room. Cedar sank into one of the chairs in front of her desk when she realized her trembling legs were not going to support her for one second longer.
This was not going well, she thought, pressing her hands to her flushed cheeks. Mark had made a legitimate point. Joey would be aware of any tension between her and Mark and might very well hold back because of it.
She had to somehow gain control of her raging emotions before Friday night. She was a professional. She’d taken part in in-home therapy a multitude of times and found it to be very effective and informative. She would concentrate on Joey and the chicken, and view Mark as the client that he was. Not a man…a client.
She could do that.
Couldn’t she?
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