PRIVATE PRACTICE | JENLISA

SEVEN

JENNIE
***

By the time Friday night rolled around, JENNIE was a jittery mess. She couldn’t stop her fingers from drumming on the restaurant table as she waited for Lisa to arrive. She’d arranged the appointment through the agency’s mobile app—with the state-of-the-art setup, it was as easy as booking airline tickets, but without the frequent-flier miles. They’d sent a confirmation email, but that was the only indication she’d gotten that the date was still on. She couldn’t help worrying that Lisa had changed her mind.

She wished she had her cell phone number, but she figured she never gave that to her clients. It was too personal. Especially if her clients had the tendency to get obsessed.

Which was actually one of her main weaknesses, and a defining characteristic of her disorder. She didn’t know how to be semi-interested in something. She was either indifferent . . . or obsessed. And her obsessions weren’t passing things. They consumed her and became a part of her. She kept them close, wove them into her very life. Just like her work.

Going forward with Lisa, she had to tread carefully. Everything about her pleased her. Not just her looks, but her patience and her kindness. She was good.

She was an obsession waiting to happen.

Hopefully, she could keep a cool head during the coming weeks. Perhaps it was for the best there were only three sessions. Once they were finished, she’d focus on someone she could actually have. Like maybe Philip James.

When Lisa entered the hotel restaurant, she noticed right away. Tonight, she wore a perfectly fitted woman black suit over a white oxford shirt. No tie. Her collar hung open, drawing attention to her Adam’s apple and the sexy base of her throat. Her gaze swept over the room and landed on her.

She looked down at the menu without seeing it, horribly aware of her slow advance toward her. Keep a cool head.

“Hello, Jennie.” She sat down across from her and folded her hands on the tabletop.

Her lungs drew in a slow breath, and she caught her light scent. Everything inside her turned over and sighed. With a sense of defeat, she lifted her eyes to her, counted to three, and looked away.

“Hello, Lisa.”

“Are you nervous already?”

She laughed slightly. “I’ve been nervous since Saturday.”

“About that . . . Who was that on the phone when I left?”

Her lips tightened as she tried to suppress a smile. “It was my mom. Her name is Ann. She thinks you’re my girlfriend now, by the way.”

She pressed a knuckle to her grinning lips. “I see. Will that be a problem?”

“Actually, I think it’s a good thing. Now that she thinks I have a relationship over someone, she should stop trying to arrange blind dates for me.”

“Ah, the mother-arranged blind date. I’m very familiar with those.”

“Does that mean you don’t have a girlfriend?” As soon as the question left her mouth, she winced. “I’m sorry. Forget I asked that.”

She had no right to inquire about her personal life, but the intense curiosity burned inside her. She wanted to know everything about her. And if she did have a girlfriend, whoever that lucky girl was, Jennie hated her guts.

“No, I don’t have a girlfriend.” She said it like it should have been obvious.

Thank God.

“What kind of girls does your mother try to hook you up with?”