Chapter Two #2
“I wasn’t stalking him. I was observing. You’re the one that started running after him.”
“Because he was pulling his dick out to scare that woman. I wasn’t going to stand around and let her be traumatized.”
“Excellent work you did there, Mia. Great job,” he deadpans.
“Miss Sinclair.”
“What?”
“If you want me to call you Dr. Adams because you’re being a stuck-up prick, then you can call me Miss Sinclair.”
The nostrils are back, and the huff that comes out of them rivals a bull on the brink of running at a red flag.
Calling him a stuck-up prick might have been a step too far, but in all honesty, he is being one.
The stick that has been up his ass for years is practically hitting the back of his teeth, he’s so tense.
“Miss Sinclair,” he grits. “You should take the rest of the day off. It’s been a stressful day for both of us.”
“How did you know he was going to do it?” I ask, ignoring him.
His mouth gapes for a moment before he straightens his spine and looks away. “I didn’t.”
“So the one time you just happened to follow him, happened to be the time he flashed someone again—" I pause, watching his body back away toward his office, his jaw jutting. “Wait…that wasn’t the first time you followed him, was it?”
His wide eyes snap to mine like I’ve discovered something about him that nobody knows.
“I’m right, aren’t I? You’ve been following him. What the hell, Alfie?”
“It’s not like that. You’re making it sound way worse than it is.”
“So explain it to me then.” I cross my arms over my chest, cocking my hip as I stand in front of his desk.
“I don’t need to explain myself to you, Miss Sinclair. Now go home.”
◆◆◆
My shoulders aching, I kick my heels off at the door. The smell of fried veggies and chicken fill my nose and my mouth waters at the lost Scooby Snack from earlier.
“Honey, I’m home.” I call out to Lana, my roommate and best friend of ten years.
She’s the first friend I made when I moved to Seattle.
We joke that we’re fated mates, minus the sex.
But in every other way we’re compatible.
She cooks, I clean. She’s messy, I’m tidy.
She’s studying to be a change-the-world kind of therapist, I’m studying to be a change-a-life kind of a therapist. We have the same taste in alcohol and a completely different taste in men. A perfect pairing.
“Hey baby girl. How was your day?” she responds, her elbow high as she cracks some pepper into the pan.
Oh the usual. My ridiculously gorgeous boss is stalking his patients; I wedgied one of them, and now he’s mad at me for pointing it out. Does that summarize it well enough?
“A bit of an odd day, I’m not going to lie,” I say as I pad into the kitchen. I’m met with her toothy smile and fading pink hair. “We need to re-do this. This weekend?” I say tugging the ends of her hair.
“Saturday works for me. Why was your day weird?”
I swish my hand in front, waving away any real response I could give her. “It was nothing, just glad the day is done. What about yours?”
“Well, I had a call from my dad. He asked me to come work with him again. I said no, just like last time, same old.”
Lana’s dad is intense. A first-generation Mexican American, he worked incredibly hard and built a life here in Seattle.
He’s the first medical doctor in his family, and encouraged Lana to pursue her dream of becoming a psychologist. Even if he’s insistent on her coming to work with him afterwards.
Lana has always been a little cagey about where he works but it’s presumably a hospital of some kind that would hire both medical doctors and psychologists.
Maybe a rehab center? Despite his insistence, Lana has big dreams and has always wanted to do more than run of the mill therapy.
“I did find a program in Puerto Rico. It’s a volunteer position but it could really help a lot of people.”
“A therapy program?”
“Yeah, they’re looking for volunteers to go down there. I’m not sure I have enough experience in that field though, so I probably won’t get it,” she adds, pulling plates out of the cupboard.
I laugh, “Lana, you are getting your PhD in psychology. Who do you think they’re looking for?”
“Okay, okay. I think I’m going to apply.”
My stomach cinches uncomfortably. I want her to live her life, of course, but the thought of her leaving me is straight up terrifying.
Especially when we’re about to finish our PhD programs and embark on real adulting.
She’s been my one constant and I can tell I’m so close to losing her.
When I moved to Seattle, I didn’t know anybody.
After ten years, I’ve spent nearly every holiday with her and her family if I didn’t fly home to Texas.
They embraced me as one of their own and despite them being a very private family, I’ve gotten closer than most. And that’s all eighteen-year old Mia could have hoped for.
From growing up with four brothers, three of which I barely speak with, mostly because they don’t know their asses from their elbows, Lana has been a true sister to me.
She is also aware of my insane crush on Alfie.
“So come on, tell us what that beautiful bastard did this time. Did he roll his sleeves up again? Exposing those forearms like he’s about to reprimand someone? Did he bend over your desk so you get an eyeful of chest?”
“Please stop.”
“Did he lean his head down and give you those big disappointed daddy eyes over the frame of his glasses?” she continues.
“I’m begging you…”
“You’d love to beg him wouldn’t you? I bet if Dr. Angel told you to get on your knees right in the middle of his office, you’d do it, like the good little girl you are. Dirty bitch.”
“Oh my god, you’re insane.” I gasp, wiping a tear from my eye as we dissolve into giggles.
I don’t deny it though. Because honestly, if Alfie used that low voice of his and told me to drop my panties and bend over his desk, you can bet your ass I’m gonna do it. No questions. No hesitation.
Take.
Them.
Off.
In a fantasy world of course. In real life, how could I? He’s my boss and one, would never, and two, I would never… maybe? I actually can’t say for sure because maybe I’d be so stunned I’d be in a complete trance. The Dr. Adams trance whereby I do anything and everything he asks of me.
Okay, enough. It’s wildly inappropriate, and besides, real men always ruin the fantasy.
Case in point, today, I found out that Alfie has been following patients around and not me.
I mean, seriously, if he could channel those stalker tendencies into a dark romance vibe, this man would be the full package.
But no, he’s got to follow a dangerous patient around and prevent crime like a genuine news-appropriate hero.
How incredibly ill-timed given that I need him to be my reference in the next three months when I graduate and start applying for actual psychologist jobs.
Shit.
Today was such a close call, and thank god I was there otherwise how would he have explained himself? Vincent would have pummeled him into the concrete until that beautiful face had a permanent scowl.
I’m going to have to stop him from losing his entire career and save my job reference in the process.
Because Alfie has a dark side that is too tempting to ignore.
I know his schedule, I know he’s a workaholic that barely socializes.
Making sure he’s behaving himself is going to be a piece of cake.
I take a deep breath and acknowledge, at least to myself, I’m going to have to stalk my boss.