Amelia had everything- family, friends, a promising future- the sky was the limit. But just like that everything was taken from her. One moment she's planning her high school graduation party the next she's laying on a therapist's couch. It was as i...
How could I say something so inappropriate like that during an interview?
Dr. Broderick's chaw ticked at my bold accusation. I expected his expression to hold a look of disgust or at least a look of resentment. This interview was surely about to end with me being thrown out of the place. Instead, his mouth curled into the most enthralling smile I had ever seen. A laugh escaped his throat, causing my eyes to widen.
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Was he seriously laughing? He did nothing to try to hide his amusement.
"I'm not quite sure I know what you mean?" This man was toying with me. And was obviously getting a great thrill out of it.
I folded my arms over my chest and kept myself from twitching. "Oh, please," I breathed.
He pulled away from his laptop. "I'm afraid that I must implore you to explain," he slithered. Was this still part of the interview? How did we go from talking about my age to me explaining my nonexistent, sexual vendetta?
"If you haven't realized it by now, Doctor, you have quite the effect on women." I shifted in my seat. "The other girls that have interviewed here were practically drooling when they spoke of a doctor that has the most irresistible blue eyes."
"And?" He looked like he was on the edge of his seat, waiting for me to continue.
"And when I looked up some of your articles, I came across a photo and discovered that they weren't overly exaggerating as usual," I admitted.
"You looked me up online?" He sounded positively delighted by the idea of me basically stalking him online. Most people would consider it creepy, but not him.
"I like to know what I'm walking into," I shrugged. I do my best to keep surprises down to a minimum if I can. However, Dr. Broderick was a living, breathing surprise that just kept me on the edge of my chair. Just when I think I have figured him out, he turns the tables and makes me rethink everything I thought I knew.
People like this make me either want to continue figuring them out, or make me want to self-combust. There is no in between.
There's something about this man that doesn't quite sit right with me. I just can't figure out what yet.
Dr. Broderick dropped the conversation and decided to revisit the original question that ended with me in the corner of a very delicate situation. "So, aside from the sexual agenda not being on the table, what else makes you the right person for the job?"
Why was it so difficult to think at the moment? My brain felt like it was pounding inside of my head, like someone was taking an ice pick to my frontal lobe. What the hell was happening?
I discreetly raised my hand to my temple and applied pressure to the throbbing area. Of all the times to have a migraine, it had to have been at this very moment. No. No. No. This can't be happening, not now.
"Are you alright?" I hadn't noticed that Dr. Broderick had gotten up from his seat to move to my side. His eyes went from holding a look of temptation to a look of true concern. From being merely inches away from me I could smell the intoxicating scent of pine mixed with old leather from him. But, distantly, there was a third smell that hung loosely around his neck like a loose tie. Lavender.
I closed my eyes and allowed the scent to take me back to when I first sensed it. It hadn't come from the lobby when I walked in, I remember there being the smell of lemons and bleach from the cleaning crew that must've come through earlier. It didn't come from Charlotte when I went up to the reception desk and checked in. All I could smell from her was freshly cleaned clothes and the faintest scent of flowers. What the hell could have caused this?
All of a sudden my eyes shot open in realization. The cheap, overpowering smell of lavender filled my lungs the same way it had when I was waiting for my interview. This pungent scent belonged to a pair of open toed stiletto shoes and a tiny black dress. But the image morphed into someone far more familiar. A girl with chestnut brown hair, and golden honey eyes.
Someone who was lost in my memories. . .
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I heard Dr. Broderick call out my name once more. "Ms. Peterson?" I felt his hand rest on my shoulder.
I thought I was able to push down the memories, but they fought back.
"Veronica?" I muttered.
His face possessed a look of bewilderment that prompted me to give an explanation for my response. If I didn't know any better, I would say that Veronica was standing right behind me. Her perfume dispersed throughout his office, but still proceeded to linger around him like an invisible cape. She must have hugged him goodbye when their session ended. Was that how he treated all of his patients? Or just the female ones? Or was it just her? Was I beginning to feel a sense of envy towards that woman?
It was no mystery that she had her arms wrapped around his neck, otherwise he wouldn't smell like her. But even the potent scent of lavender built on to my hysteria. Hearing my sister's name and smelling her once favorite smell was all too much to bear.
I tried taking deep breaths through my headache, but it was useless. The only way I was going to clear my head was if I left.
Without wasting another minute I stood up abruptly from my chair and placed my bag over my shoulder. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Broderick."
"Mia, wait!" My name slipped from his lips, causing goosebumps to rake up my arms. As much as I wanted to turn around, I couldn't bring myself to do so.
"I'm sorry," I said over my shoulder. Pulling the door open, I slipped out of the office and made a b-line straight for the elevators. I didn't care to see who else had been sitting in the waiting area when I blew through. All that consumed my mind was getting out of the building as soon as possible.
Who knew that a single scent of something that was once pleasant could bring back such horrible memories. So many horrible memories.
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My heart truly goes out to anyone and everyone who has ever experienced a panic attack. They're awful and feel like the very air has been sucked out of your lungs and you can't breath. They occur out of nowhere for me, personally, and are always exceedingly frightening.
