Chapter Fourteen #3
“This is my company, Hamish.” She nodded toward Smith.
“Yes, he bought the company. But he made me a co-owner. We share the ownership, but as you know, the responsibility falls to me. I run the show. I dole out the discipline when needed. That hasn’t happened before.
Naively, I believed I could sail this ship without any stormy seas until, I don’t know, retirement. Obviously, I was wrong.”
Shame swamped me as I was clearly the reason for choppy waters and unsettled weather. “I’m sorry.”
“Never sleep with a client, Hamish.” Her dark-brown eyes remained unblinking. “That’s a hard limit. And the rule exists for a reason. You know it. You could lose your license. You should lose your license.”
I gulped. I knew it. And I was beyond just an ethical violation. This was against everything I stood for. And if Hala or Ian had shown such poor judgment, I’d be livid.
“You have to report your violation to the College of Psychologists. There’ll be a hearing.
You’ll be honest with them and accept whatever punishment they deem appropriate.
You might very well lose your license.” She continued to hold my gaze even as I was desperate to look away.
“You’re on administrative leave from JEAP pending the outcome of the tribunal.
I should fire you outright, and I’m damn tempted, but you also have fifteen years of solid work.
I know you’ve never done anything like this—”
“I haven’t.”
“And you won’t in the future.”
An easy one. “I won’t.”
Smith tapped his finger on the table. “This is serious, Hamish.”
Allie blinked, then turned to her husband. “You know what happened to me.”
“But that wasn’t your fault.” His gaze radiated empathy.
My boss, while working for social services several years ago, had been involved in a child welfare case that had gone horribly wrong.
People had died. On her watch. And it hadn’t been her fault, but she’d believed she could have somehow changed things—even though she couldn’t have.
I could remember the broken woman she used to be and compare that person to here now and know recovery and redemption were possible.
But I still struggled with what I’d done.
I’d done enough to warrant an investigation.
I might lose my license. I deserved to lose my license.
And I didn’t have any idea what I’d do with my life.
Counseling was my raison d’être. I’d never done anything else.
And the idea of waking up every morning and not having a purpose terrified me.
But not enough to keep me away from Tyson and Donovan.
Two blow jobs.
Yet so, so, so much more. I needed them. They needed me. But not as a therapist. As a man. As a potential partner. Was I really willing to throw away my life on nothing but the promise of something amazing that might never come to pass?
“Okay…and technically nothing untoward happened between the two of you? Except him seeing you naked…” Allie’s stare still penetrated down to my soul.
“Tyson to me and me to Tyson. Blow jobs. Tyson and Donovan have kissed—” With my cum in Tyson’s mouth. “—but nothing more than that.”
“Is Tyson conflicted? Donovan’s a witness.”
I nodded. “It’s complicated. But Donovan and I haven’t touched. Physically. And the texts have all been aboveboard.” Well, mostly. Maybe not the ones Donovan sent.
“How many? Will you show them to me?” Smith held out his hand.
I reached for my phone in my back pocket. No point in trying to cover this up.
Allie slapped his hand down, then met my gaze. “Right answer.”
I cocked my head.
“Well, if you’d been hesitant, then we mightn’t have believed you.
We don’t need to see your texts. If you say they’re aboveboard, we believe you.
” Smith spun his coffee mug. “You’re telling us that now you’ve discharged him as a patient—formally—and that you’re looking to start a relationship with him. ”
“Have already,” Allie corrected.
As much as I wanted to argue with her—I really couldn’t. “It’s crazy, right?”
She laid her hand across mine—the first time we’d touched since the hug.
“Yes. And no. You’ve always been so stoic.
Held yourself apart. In many ways, that makes you a great counselor—you can detach from your clients and their problems.” She smiled.
“On the other hand, you haven’t faced any real trials in your life.
Sometimes that means you struggle to relate to them. ”
I pulled my hand back as if I were burned. She doesn’t know. Of course, she didn’t. If she did, she would question my judgment on every case.
“Hamish?” Concern laced her voice. Her compassionate eyes gazed upon me.
Curious ones as well, since Smith obviously wanted to know what just happened. He rose. “Why don’t I check on—”
“Stay.” I cleared my throat. “You might as well hear this.”
He nodded as he retook his seat. “Fair enough. And then we…” He glanced at Allie. “I need to tell you a thing or two about Donovan.” He cleared his throat. “And Cole Hamilton.”
I frowned.
“We know them…as part of our other lives.”
Oh shit.
The BDSM.
Okay, now I was damn curious. But I needed to unburden myself first.
God knew I wasn’t likely to have a job by the end of this conversation.