Bad Things

“Most men would be thrilled that I liked other women! Most men think it’s hot! Why does he have to be different?”



“I don’t know. And you’re right, many men would like that. But you chose George, and he’s been clear about what he wants. What he’s asking of you is not unreasonable, but it’s also not unreasonable if you decide that you can’t make the sort of commitment that he wants.”



“Well, fuck. This is hard. I was hoping you’d just tell me that he was an asshole.”



Lucy gave her a very understanding smile. “You know that’s not what I do.”



“Yeah, I know. A girl can dream. Okay, I’m done with my rant. Who wants to follow that hot mess?” Candy sat down.



No one spoke right away, and Lucy’s concerned, benevolent gaze swung to me. Dammit, but her understanding looks undid me.



“What about you, Danika?” she asked, as I’d know she would. “How are you doing? Where do you stand with your ex? Are you still broken up?”



That last question made me bristle a bit. “Of course we are! I caught a chick giving him a blow job in exchange for pot. It’s not a complicated situation. It’s very cut and dry. I’m not wishy-washy about it. I never want to speak to him again.” It was the strangest thing, how something that had felt so awful just a month ago, didn’t make me feel anything but annoyance just then.



She nodded, not looking at all surprised by my outburst. “And has he been trying to call?”



I sighed. “Yeah. It’s calmed down to a few attempts a day, so I’m confident that eventually he’ll stop trying altogether.”



“And have you started seeing anyone else?”



“No. I’m determined to just be by myself for a while.”



“That’s good. Very good. Your last two relationships ended and began within two weeks of each other, and they both lasted two years, two very impressionable years. Jumping from one relationship and into another gives you no time to gain any perspective, especially at your age. I think it would benefit you greatly to remain single. We’ve gone over this exhaustively, but with your past, and your patterns, you strike me as a prime candidate for love addiction.”



I tensed at the mention of my past. The room at large knew a lot of it, but I’d kept the really nasty bits from everyone except for Lucy and Bev. Those two were like a truth serum for me most of the time. I couldn’t keep a thing from either of them for long.



“I hate that term,” Candy said with a smirk.



Lucy waved her off. “I’ll call it codependency, if that makes you feel better.”



“It does.”



Lucy ignored her, still focused on me. “You grew up with an addicted parent, and so far, both of the long term relationships you’ve been in, have turned out to be with addicts. Down the road, when you do start dating, I want you to be very careful about the men who you find yourself very attracted to, because of your history with addicts. The chaotic bad boys have not been good for you. You need to reprogram yourself to start looking for men that could be considered stable. Does that make sense?”



I nodded. It made way too much sense, and my mind shot to Tristan. Chaotic bad boy… She’d hit that one on the head.



She smiled warmly. “Okay, I’m done picking on you. Love you, girl.”



I swallowed hard. “Love you, too.”



“I love all of you hookers,” Candy said loudly.



It eased the tension, and we all laughed.



Lucy looked at Bev. “And what about you? How are things with Jerry?”



Bev sighed heavily. “They’re good. They’ve been pretty good for a while, but recently, when I’d thought he’d done another stupid thing, all of my anger just came back, as though all of our progress together had just disappeared, which made me realize that my anger is still very present.”



Shit, shit, shit, I thought. I’d begun to feel like I’d made some sort of peace about having lied to her about Jerry and Tristan, but that guilt came flooding back in spades as I realized what she was talking about.



“And what exactly happened that made your anger resurface?”



Bev grimaced. “It was all a misunderstanding, but I thought he’d brought home another musician, which would have meant that he was out playing around with the band thing, instead of looking around for another firm, like he promised he would.”



“Anger often lingers, just looking for ways to come out, but you’re doing all of the right things. If you both keep doing the right things, that anger will slowly fade with time, instead of staying right under the surface.”



Bev nodded.



“Anyone else have anything they want to talk about? Something to get off your chest?”



“My hemorrhoids are flaring up,” Olga said loudly, her accent heavy.



I tried my hardest not to laugh, we all did, but as soon as I saw that Olga was grinning, I lost it.



“I can get you a referral for that,” Lucy said.



“Not necessary,” Olga said.



“Anyone else? Should we break for snacks and cocktails?”



“I don’t think I’m attracted to my husband anymore,” Jen said, smoothing her green skirt over her legs in a nervous gesture. “I have to stifle the urge to cringe away from his touch.”



“You’ve been struggling with this for quite some time. Since your three-year old was born, correct? Has it changed recently? Are your feelings of distaste more acute?”



Jen nodded, her eyes wide. “I don’t know what it is. He tries, he really does, but when I get even an inkling that he’s going to make a pass at me, I want to run in the other direction.”



“You say that you want to run in the other direction, but not that you do that. What is it that you actually do?”



Jen looked very vulnerable as she answered. “I just…do what he wants. I don’t say anything. I just get it over with.”



“Have you said anything to him about it? Does he know that you don’t enjoy your sexual encounters?”



Jen shook her head, wincing. “I haven’t said anything to him about it. I think he knows that I don’t climax anymore, but he doesn’t know that I hate having sex with him.”



“Well, a lot of things could have started the decline in your sex drive, but I think I can tell you why it’s suddenly gotten worse. Even though he may be clueless to the fact that you’re finding sex with him distasteful, you’re likely beginning to resent him for it. Have you considered telling him how you feel?”



“I don’t know how. I’m afraid it would make him mad, or even hurt his feelings, if I told him that I’ve basically just been suffering his advances for so long.”



“Hm. Maybe don’t tell him all that. And certainly don’t begin with that. You could just begin by telling him that your sex drive has gone away. How ever you open up the communication, though, the point is that you begin to talk about these things. Communication is an important component to all types of intimacy, even the physical kind.”



Jen nodded, took a deep breath, then smiled. “I’ll give it a shot. I vote it’s time for cocktail number two.”



I seconded that.



We ate, and drank, and talked for hours. As the therapy session wound down, the talk turned silly, as it usually did.



“Fuck. Ing. Hot.” Sandra said, referring to the owner of the Cavendish casino, and the gallery where she worked. She looked like she was feeling awfully pretty. “He came into the gallery a few days ago, and I about had a heart attack.”



“He is gorgeous,” Candy said, toasting the air.



“No,” Sandra said. “You don’t understand. He looks gorgeous in pictures, but in real life, he will blow your mind. Once you’ve seen his eyes up close, you can never go back.”



“You should make a pass at him,” Candy said.



“I’d make a pass at him,” Harriet said. “In fact, I wouldn’t take no for an answer.”



Sandra shook her head. “He only dates supermodels with legs that go up to their tits, or playboy models with tits that go up to their chins.”



“Just go for it,” Harriet said. “What have you got to lose?”



“Um, her job,” I said, rolling my eyes.



Harriet and Candy were funny as hell, but not the ones to take advice from. Their brand of outrageous would not work for everybody. It backfired on them half the time.



“Dating the boss rarely turns out well,” Lucy pointed out reasonably.



“I wasn’t saying she should date him,” Harriet defended. “I was saying she should bone his pretty brains out.”



“Arguably an even worse idea,” Lucy mused.



Sandra held up a hand. “Settle down everybody. He’s not interested in me, so it’s not even a question. I just like to vent about how fucking hot he is.”



“Amen, sister,” Candy said, toasting the air again.



I raised my glass, as well. I could toast to that. “To hot men who we don’t need to fuck to appreciate,” I said.



I got a few startled glances for that unexpected outburst, but everyone toasted with me.



“Are you just speaking in general?” Lucy asked, tilting her head to study me. “That sounded a little specific.”



“Oh, it’s specific,” Sandra slurred. “James fucking Cavendish is specifically the hottest man alive.”



Bev giggled. Uh oh, I thought. She was tipsy if she was giggling. “Wait until you get a load of Danika’s friend, Tristan,” she said. “He could give Boss Cavendish a run for his money, and he and Danika have crazy chemistry.”



“The fuck you say?” Candy inquired, looking very interested.



“Why you holding out, Danika?” Harriet questioned, her words slurred.



“Who’s this Tristan?” Lucy asked, and I saw by the way she was studying me that she was already worried.



I hitched one shoulder up in a self-conscious shrug. “He’s strictly a buddy. Bev is just drunk.”



Bev nodded. Very drunkenly, I thought.



“Is he hot, though?” Olga asked, her accent even more pronounced now that she’d had a few drinks.



“He’s very good looking,” I allowed. “And he has a great sense of humor. And he’s super tall, with biceps the size of my waist.” I held my hands out in a circle to show them how big. “And he’s really nice. And don’t even get me started on his dimples.” After about the second sentence, I started to realize that I was feeling really pretty. Dammit, how many drinks had I had? It was hard to count, when Bev was constantly bringing a new glass, and I had no idea just how strong the cocktail was.



“You sound like you admire him,” Lucy pointed out. “But you say it’s purely platonic?”



“I’m attracted to him, and I love being around him, but I have every intention of keeping it purely platonic.”



I must have sounded a touch defensive, because Lucy wasn’t the only woman in the room that didn’t look convinced.



CHAPTER ELEVEN