Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“See? You’re already figuring things out.”
“Thank you,” she whispers and puts her head on my shoulder.
“Of course, Sadie.” My heart breaks right along with hers, but this is exactly why I do what I do. No bullshitting, no trying to work out how to build that trust back again.
Because once a cheater, always a cheater.
“We just walked three miles,” I tell Violet, my golden retriever, taking the leash from her before she whips it back and forth and hits me in the face with the metal clip. She’s done it before. I’m sitting on the floor, stretching at the same time I go over my schedule for the rest of the week. I have a busy day tomorrow, making me think I should text the girls and tell them I won’t be able to meet for our lunch date, though I really don’t want to. I live for dates with my friends.
“I have reels set for tomorrow and the next day,” I tell Violet, as if she cares. She happily accepted the trade of a tennis ball for her leash and is now shoving it in my face but not letting me take it to throw. This apartment complex has the best dog-friendly courtyard, and a girl down the hall pet sits for me when I’m out of town, which reminds me that I need to track her down and pay her cash tomorrow.
Mentally adding it to my growing list of things to do, I finish stretching and get up, going into my little kitchen to make a cup of coffee. It’s late and I shouldn’t have caffeine past eight PM, I know, but it’s one of the few “bad things” I consume. I sit at the kitchen table as my water heats up to make coffee in the French press and get a text. It’s from my client who has an early morning appointment with me tomorrow. Her daughter has a fever and she has to cancel. I quickly reply, telling her it’s okay and we can reschedule.
“We get to sleep in a bit,” I tell Violet. My next appointment isn’t until eleven-thirty. Once my coffee is ready, I take it into my room, sitting in bed to do a bit of research, aka internet stalking potential cheaters.
It’s not uncommon for a therapist to find a niche, and after I’ve been cheated on, lied to, gaslit, and manipulated for years, it’s really not surprising that I’d go this route. I log into one of my fake Instagram accounts, first doing my due diligence of posting, scrolling, and interacting with others to make sure this account is active and seems legit.
Then I pull up Target Number One’s profile, cross referencing my Excel spreadsheet of who he follows, adding in three new girls since yesterday. They’re all pale with dark hair and two of the three have very scantily clad profile pictures. No hate to them; it’s all business. But this particular guy has been in my office next to his wife, telling her he’s not going to like and follow so many “models” anymore.
I’m getting deep down in the rabbit hole of follows, screenshotting pictures he’s liked, when my phone rings, startling me a bit. I almost don’t answer, since I don’t recognize the number, but something inside of me says to pick up the phone.
“Hello?” I answer a little apprehensively.
“Hi, is this Mira Martin?”
“Who’s calling?”
“Sorry, I’m Whitney. Um. Sera Novak told me to call.”
“Oh, um, are you wanting to schedule an appointment?” I ask, knowing Sera has been coming to see me for years and has referred a number of her friends.
“Well, yeah, but I’m hoping to hire you for your other services?”
I mentally pause, biting my lip. “Give me the details.”
“I just started dating this guy and something feels off, but he’s been so amazing, spoiling me like no other. And I don’t want to be that idiot but I don’t want to write him off yet.”
“Okay,” I say, waiting for her to go on.
“Really, something is off and I can’t shake it. And I want proof. We were supposed to meet at the Palmer House for drinks in like an hour, but I’m stuck at the office. Sera came up with the idea that someone should go and flirt with him to see if he engages. We just last week said we’re exclusive.”
“You don’t have any friends who could fill in?”
“Not that he wouldn’t recognize. I’m willing to pay double what you normally charge and I can Venmo you now. I’ll even cover the cost of a new dress if you want to stop somewhere on the way. Would five hundred be enough?”
My eyes widen. It would be more than enough. It’s only seven-fifteen and getting paid double my fee plus getting a new dress isn’t something I want to pass up.