Chapter Fourteen
Alfie
The following Wednesday, the cool winter sun was rising through the window of my practice waiting room. Mia flicks her hair over her shoulder, looking mildly frazzled as she scans the email I just sent her.
“What do you think?” I ask.
Her brow furrows, and she doesn’t look nearly as excited as I thought she would.
“This…is a lot, Alfie.”
“It’s everything that’s upcoming for the next three months.”
I’d sent her a shared calendar invite for every social and networking event that I would usually do my best to avoid.
However, a promise is a promise. She’s returned to Seattle, the office has resumed its normal flow, and I am slowly infiltrating her personal space inch by inch until she feels like I belong there.
I want to feel like I belong there. This is a trial period where I can truly see whether having a girlfriend, fake or otherwise, would realistically fit into my life.
If it is, then this will allow me to encroach on her space under the ruse of fake-dating.
If it isn’t, then Mia will find a new job ready for when she passes her dissertation defense.
The responsibility I feel for her is tantamount to how I felt about her returning to Seattle.
I want her to have a career she enjoys, something that she can be proud to build on, and networking these opportunities at the events I’ve chosen is the best way to do it.
Even if it eventually means she’ll leave me behind.
She laughs, the frown easing between her brows. “Alfie, you never attend these things. You don’t have to sign up to so many.”
“A deal’s a deal, Mia.”
She huffs before pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. “We can scratch off the North Eastern Psychology Association Spring Ball. That seems more like a schmoozing event.”
“A perfect opportunity to charm people,” I counter.
“I wouldn’t have anything to wear to something like that…besides, it would be right at the end of the three months. Hopefully, I will have found something by then.”
I mentally tuck that away for later. That was the one I was most looking forward to. The other events would be smart casual, but the spring ball is a black-tie event, and I’d already pictured Mia in something rich in tone and silky to the touch.
I shrug. “Whatever you want. But we should do as many as possible in the next month.”
“Why?”
So I can spend as much time with you as humanly possible.
“Let’s start off on a good foot. Before you know it, you’ll be offered so many opportunities, you’ll be able to have your pick.”
“Okay sure. Will you let me know what I should wear?”
“Cat-burglar outfits won’t be necessary.”
“So just the Daisy Dukes then?” she teases.
I roll my eyes, making my way back to my office so I can start my session with Richard. “Are you free tonight? I did promise to cook you dinner every week on Wednesdays.”
Her eyes crinkle around the edges as she looks to the floor before her usual professional exterior returns. “Sure.”
“Dress warm. We have an excursion first. I’ll pick you up at your place.”
Her eyes widen, and she shifts from foot to foot, her hip jutting out, creating an indecent curve of her hip.
Her voice lowers. “An excursion-excursion?”
I grin, give her a wink and head into the office.
◆◆◆
I park outside Mia’s apartment building and buzz her number.
She’s had a busy day, so I’m hoping this particular excursion won’t take too long.
I could have skipped it, but the pressure of the last week has gotten too much, and I wanted to check on Richard’s progress with his ornithophobia.
We’d worked our way up by looking at photos of birds during our sessions, talking about the feelings and memories that came along with them until last week he managed to walk from the office to his parked car unassisted.
He was making strides to disassociate the fear of birds with his affair.
He’d also written a letter to his ex-wife to apologize to her for cheating on her with his receptionist, to explain that whilst he was working on himself in therapy, he didn’t expect anything from her.
Mia hops down the steps, wearing tight jeans tucked into knee-high boots whilst wearing a parker jacket. Thank fuck for that jacket. She does a little twirl for me, grinning ear to ear.
“Is this suitable, Dr. Adams?”
“You’re off the clock, Mia.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Is this suitable, Alfie?”
I grunt, turning back to the car and opening the door for her.
“Such a gentleman.”
“I figured you might need a boost into the car; your jeans are so tight they look like they don’t bend.”
“Thinking awful hard about my jeans, Alfie.” She laughs.
Something is hard. That’s for sure.
I slip into the car, pulling into the lane.
“So where are we headed this evening?” she asks, crossing one foot over the other.
“Richard—"
“Bird man?”
“Mia…” I warn.
“He is technically our resident bird man. He summons a seagull like he’s a hot dog on a beach.”
If only she knew how accurate that statement was.
“He’s working on his fear of seagulls, and I want to make sure he gets on okay. Tonight he’ll be going down to Coral Cove to walk along the beach.”
“All alone?”
“Yes, he seemed confident he could do it. Apparently, seagulls are less active at night.”
She turns toward the window, biting her lip as she does, and I fight the tug at my lips too.
We’re silent for the remainder of the drive, and when I pull up to the cove, the rest of the parking lot is empty save for one car. I recognize it as Richard’s from when I pushed him into it as the seagulls descended after our first session.
We step out into the cool night air, and I hand Mia a spare wooly hat. Her eyes twinkle as she nods in approval. “You’re leaning into it! Next week you’ll be giving me a balaclava and a pair of black leather gloves so I don’t leave fingerprints.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
The gloves are hidden in the glove box, and I had just been about to pull them out to keep her warm, not so she wouldn’t leave fingerprints. We’re at a beach, for God's sake.
We begin our descent down the sandy steps, the old wooden banister weather-worn with only flecks of paint remaining.
Before the top of the final set of stairs, a small platform offers a view of the entire cove.
We wait there, and I pull out some binoculars, scanning the beach until I can see one man and a dog.
“I see him,” I breathe, holding the near-useless instruments against my eyes.
“Let me see.”
Before allowing me to pull the binoculars over my head, she presses her cheek against mine and pulls the binoculars to her eyes.
The cord is definitely not long enough for this. It’s digging into the side of my neck, and knowing her propensity to yank items where they shouldn’t go, including underwear, I’m slightly concerned she could use the binoculars as a weapon too.
“Cute doggo. Do you think we can go and pet it?”
“Mia, we’re incognito. We’re not going anywhere near him. Only observing.”
She nods, like she’s just remembered, and then returns the binoculars before descending the stairs.
“Mia, we’re not going down there.”
“Come on, we’re here, may as well commit. We’ll keep in the shadows.”
I take a look around, confirming there isn’t anyone else that can see us, and I follow her down to the beach.
The sun has fully set now, the waves lapping the shoreline like slick oil drifting over the sand.
Coral Cove is a perfect beach. It’s quiet, a little harder to access due to the stairs, so the crowds avoid it.
Even in the daytime, it’s usually not too busy unless it’s the height of summer.
It’s a part of the world where the forest almost meets the sea.
A collision of varying elements sometimes blends the two.
On another beach north of here, a tree the size of a train carriage beached itself and has become somewhat of a tourist destination.
Craggy rocks descend out of the ocean as if the land and sea were fighting one another for dominance.
Mia’s feet sink into the sand as she walks down to the shoreline, the salty air whipping around her until she pulls her arms tight around her middle. The urge to pull her close and keep her warm is tempting me like nothing else.
“Come on, let’s get a little closer. We can kneel behind that rock,” I say.
She follows me, tucking her loose hair into her jacket so it stops whipping around in the wind.
We hide behind a large granite rock covered in moss and seaweed from the higher tides and watch Richard as he paces along the beach, his bulldog following closely behind him.
“Ten more minutes, Geraldine, then we’ll go. We can do this for ten minutes.”
Mia and I stare at each other. Geraldine, she mouths, and I put a finger to my lips, willing her not to laugh.
“WE’RE DOING IT GERALDINE, WE’RE DOING IT. FUCK YOU, SEAGULLS!”
I slap a hand to my mouth and pinch my nose.
I’m so pleased for him. Conquering your fear like this is terrifying and brave, and as his therapist, I’m ecstatic at his progress.
However, as a man on a beach with his employee, who is now on her hands and knees in the sand ready to shove her head in it to keep from laughing, I’m barely keeping it together.
“DEATH TO ALL SEAGULLS!”
Okay…what’s wiping out an entire species…just healthy venting people, don’t be alarmed.
“I HOPE THE TRAWLERS GET YOU ALL!”
Mia’s mouth parts in a silent laugh until her throat lets out a guttural gasp of air that sounds close to a honk.
I peek over the rock, and Geraldine has clocked us. Her little ears perk up as she stares at the rock we’re stationed behind.
“MY PENIS IS STILL WORKING, YOU BASTARDS!”
I purse my lips and let out a steady breath before Geraldine begins to trot over to investigate.
Shit, shit, shit.
With wide eyes, I tap Mia’s shoulder and point over the rock. Geraldine is coming, I mouth.
She shakes her head.
What do we do?
I don’t know.