Billionaire Temptations: Rich, Ruthless & Obsessed

Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

Anna

A couple of days passed, and I didn’t get out of bed once. I couldn’t. I didn’t have the strength after all the crying I’d done. All of this because he wanted kids, and I didn’t. Franco took care of me the best he could, and I willingly let him.

“Anna, you need to get out of this bed. I have never seen you like this in all my years of knowing you. You’re stronger than this, girl. I’m worried about you, and if you don’t get up, I’m going to have you committed to a psych hospital.”

I pushed the covers back that were covering my head and looked at him.

“That’s a good idea. I think I belong there.”

A smile crossed his lips. “There’s my girl.”

“Franco, I can’t get up. I seriously don’t even want to deal with life.”

“Anna, you haven’t showered in days, and what about the shop?”

“Francine thinks I have the flu.”

“Listen, girl. I love you to pieces, but get your sorry ass out of bed right now.”

He set a piece of paper down on the nightstand.

“I’m giving you tough love because I love you, and I’m worried. I made an appointment for you to see a therapist. His name is Dr. Stark, and he’s supposedly the best in Manhattan. I got his name and number from a friend of mine. Your appointment is for three o’clock. Luckily, they had a cancellation today. You better go, Anna. I have to run. I have a meeting with a client.” He kissed my forehead and walked out of the room.

I let out a huff and pulled the covers back over my head. A few moments later, I threw them back and sat up. Looking over at the nightstand, I picked up the piece of paper and looked at it. Damn him. I climbed out of bed, hopped into the shower, got myself together, and went downstairs. I couldn’t believe Wes hadn’t bothered to call or text me. It was obvious he didn’t care. I grabbed my purse and headed out the door to Dr. Stark’s office.

I signed in and took a seat in the waiting room. I didn’t need this, and I didn’t belong here. I changed my mind. I was out. Just as I got up from my seat to walk out the door, a tall and handsome older man with long hair, casual clothes, and beads around his neck stepped into the waiting area and called my name.

“Anna?” He smiled. “You’re not trying to escape, are you?”

“Caught me.” I nervously laughed.

“I’m Dr. Stark. I know it’s hard being here, especially if you’ve never been to a therapist’s office before. It can be intimidating. Come with me to my space and give me a chance. If you don’t like our conversation, you won’t ever have to return. Deal?”

I liked him. He seemed nice and genuine and from another decade. There was something about his voice that made me feel comfortable.

“Deal.” I smiled.

“I ask that you remove your shoes when we get to my office,” he said.

Okay. This guy is weird.

I followed him into his office and was taken aback by the décor. I removed my shoes and set them on the shoe rack by the door. I looked around at the orange-painted walls with different types of tapestries that hung on them, all in bold and beautiful colors and designs. Beads hung down off to the side, separating this room from the other. Large round pillow chairs that sat on the ground in different colors graced the space, and a teal-colored futon with multi-print pillows lined the wall.

“May I offer you some coffee or water?” he asked.

“Coffee would be great. Umm. Your office is really cool.”

“Thanks. But I don’t consider it an office. It’s a gathering space where people can be comfortable and relax.”

“Let me guess, you never got out of the seventies. Did you?” I smirked.

“Nope.” He smiled as he handed me my coffee. “Sit anywhere you want—couch, chair, floor. Feel free to lie on the floor if you want. Stretch out and cross your legs. The most important thing is that you’re comfortable and you don’t feel like you’re in therapy.”

I took a seat on the teal-colored couch and brought my legs up to my chest as I sipped my coffee. This was kind of cool, and I felt more relaxed than I had in days. He sat Indian-style on one of the big fluffy pillow chairs across from me, and I found myself talking non-stop when he asked why I was there.

“Do you hate children?” he asked me.

“No. Of course not. I like children.”

“But you don’t want any of your own because you’re afraid you’ll fuck them up like your parents did you, right?”

Okay. Wow. This guy is raw.

“I don’t consider myself fucked-up, Dr. Stark. I am an independent woman who knows what she wants.”

“And kids are what you don’t want.”

“Right. I don’t want children.”

“Because you’re afraid you’ll fuck them up like your parents did you.”

“Yes,” I involuntarily blurted out. Damn it.

He looked at me with a smile and nodded his head.

“Congratulations, Anna. You just took the first step in healing yourself.”

We talked some more, and I didn’t want to leave when the timer went off. I felt like we were making some sort of progress.

“Do you think you want to come back and chat again?” he asked.

“Yes, Dr. Stark. I do. I actually want to come every day if possible.”

“Every day?” he asked with surprise.

“Yes. We have a lot of ground to cover. I don’t care what it costs because I can afford it. So, pencil me in for the rest of the week. And if you can’t get me in, then make it after hours, and I will pay double your fee.”

“Okay. Cindy will set up the appointments for you.” He smiled.

I walked out of his space and hailed a cab back to the apartment. When I walked in, Franco was in the kitchen cooking.

“How did it go?” he asked without turning around.

“It was fabulous. I love Dr. Stark. He is so cool, and his space is like I was transported to the 70’s.”

He turned around and looked at me with a shocked expression on his face.

“You, Anna Young, liked therapy?”

“It’s not therapy. It’s chatting.” I smiled.

He walked over to me, placed his hands on each side of my face, and forcefully planted a kiss on my lips.

“It is so good to hear you say that and to see you smile again.”

“I have an appointment with him every day this week. I told him we had a lot of ground to cover. Thanks, Franco.”

“You’re welcome, sweet cheeks.”