Sinful Suspense Box Set by Oliver Tess

Author:Oliver, Tess [Oliver, Tess]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sugartree Press
Published: 2016-01-11T08:00:00+00:00

“No, they’re making cake for tomorrow’s visitor’s day.” She sighed. “Get this, my mom is coming. Or at least I think she is.”

“And your enthusiasm shows.”

“Yep. Shit. How about you? Anyone coming from California to see you?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Nah. My mom asked if she should come. I told her not to bother. She hates flying, so I’m sure she was relieved.”

“Your dad?”

“He won’t come. And I’m glad about it.” I leaned over and kissed her cheek, an occasional chaste peck on her silky cheek was the one small luxury I allowed myself. “I’ve got to go have my chat with Kirkendall.”

I hated to leave Sugar. Could have spent all day just sitting there next to her, talking and laughing over cold cups of coffee.

The new ward assistant, Frank, was replacing a light bulb in the hallway. He looked down from his ladder but didn’t say anything. He watched me walk past as if he worried I might kick the ladder out from under him. Or at least that’s where my imagination took me, pushing that ladder right out from beneath his feet.

I reached for Kirkendall’s door, and it swung open. I leaned back to avoid getting hit. “Jules, whoa, buddy. You almost nailed—” I stopped. His face looked like clean white granite, hard and expressionless. He didn’t even acknowledge me as he pushed past and headed toward his room.

I watched him turn the corner before stepping inside the office. There was a cramped waiting room in front of Kirkendall’s office. It had two blue chairs and always smelled like air freshener. Kirkendall’s door opened. She looked a little stiff herself. Nothing compared to the zombie expression Julian was wearing, but it had obviously been a tough session for both doctor and patient.

“Tommy.” She cleared her throat as if it had been tight. “I’m just going to go get a glass of orange juice. Can I get you anything?”

“No thanks. Is Julian all right?” At first I’d told myself it wasn’t my business, but it was Julian, for fucksake.

I was sure she’d ignore my question. “You’re a good friend to Julian, Tommy. Thank you for that. He needs that friendship, but, of course, I can’t talk about anything that goes on in here.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be right back.”

She stepped out. I slumped back against the chair. She had one of those couches, the psych couch you see in all the movies, but I never used it. Her desk was a scramble of papers and folders. I always found it sort of funny. A disorganized desk didn’t go with her neat little suits. But then she did have that ear, that hint of non-conformity. There was a picture on her desk, but it was always facing her. I picked it up. It was a picture of a girl, about ten. The familiar smile assured me it was Kirkendall. She was standing with a woman in front of a giant redwood tree. The woman had a hippie-like look, with wavy hair, faded jeans and sandals.

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