CHAPTER FOUR
Worth
The yellow light on my desk blinked, signaling there was a patient waiting for me. I opened the door to the waiting room and discovered a woman seated there. When I motioned her in, a waft of her perfume enveloped me as she passed. I was instantly hard.
“Mrs. Marcum?” I inquired and she nodded, smiling slyly. I resisted the urge to thrust out my hips as she looked me up and down, more down than up. “Won’t you have a seat? Wherever makes you comfortable.” I indicated the seating arrangement Jeremy had cunningly assembled. The furnishings were ultra-modern, and depending on the preference of the patients, they could sit upright or recline completely. Even if they chose to sit, the seating was low and a less inhibited woman could choose to let her knees open a bit to sit more comfortably. He had thought of everything and knew me so well. Amazing for a man who didn’t care for women, I mused.
“You’re the new one.” Her voice was husky and low, the kind you dreamed of hearing over the telephone.
“Dr. LaViere,” I introduced myself and sat down with my tablet to take notes.
“Do you have another name?” she prompted, her green eyes reflecting the glow from the lamp.
“Not yet,” I countered and smiled. “We’ll see how much progress you make.” My response was filled with innuendo and I knew she was already formulating her plan.
“How long do I get?” she purred and ran a hand through her hair.
“Our visit is forty minutes long, Mrs. Marcum.”
“Call me Stephanie.”
“Very well, Stephanie. I see by the forms you completed that you’re here to talk about some issues you’re having in your marriage?”
“Yes.” She bit her lower lip, looking down at her pink tipped fingers. I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know she was trying to decide how much to tell me without making herself look undesirable. She wanted to roast her husband but come out looking untouched.
I shifted in my seat, pulling one leg back and extending the other, which caused my knees to open so she could clearly see I was aroused. Her eyes flared as they met mine again and a pink tongue moistened her lips. I chuckled internally. Yeah, I had it. “So, how long have you been married?” I began the conversation and sat back to gather facts.
Her face fell somewhat as she remembered her purpose in coming. “Howard and I were married seven years ago,” she began. “We met at Churchill in the Stevens’ box seats. He’s considerably older than I am, you should know.”
“How much older?”
“Ten years,” she answered and then her mouth twisted. “Okay, five, but as you might have noticed, I age well,” she added, hope bright in her eyes.
I flipped to her personal information and saw she was almost forty. She was right. She had aged well, but then, most likely, there were a few wealthier plastic surgeons who could account for that. I looked at her bosom just long enough to make a guess and she smiled coyly, “Yes, I see you do.” She was satisfied that her game was working and this made her happy. I hoped Howard had deep pockets because this smoky number would be showing up for the long haul. I moved my knee open incrementally and she blushed with pleasure. I could even see the slightest glaze of perspiration above her upper lip as she licked them again and swallowed. The movement was not lost on me.
“Why don’t you tell me how I can help you?” I invited, the double entendre making her draw in her breath.
She chuckled in her husky voice. The sound was well practiced, I could tell. It was clear as to why Howard might be having some problems with her.
“Howard has some issues…” she began. “He isn’t able to, well, shall we say… please me in bed any longer?” She emphasized her need more for my benefit than for her own.
“Are you saying your husband is impotent?” I asked, keeping my tone professional.
“Flat as a punctured inner tube,” she popped back coarsely and for a moment, I felt sorry for the son-of-a-bitch.
“Mrs. Marcum, you do realize there are many new medications available for these issues and that your husband should seek the guidance of his personal physician or a qualified urologist, don’t you?”
She seemed disappointed that I wasn’t snapping at her bait. She tried another course. “Let’s just say you can’t fill up on a cocktail frank when you have an appetite for a bratwurst,” she offered. This turned my stomach a bit. I readily saw why Howard was having issues. I hated these kinds of bitches. They used emasculation to get what they wanted.
“Do you love your husband?” I asked her pointedly.
She took a few moments to consider this. “I’m used to him. He’s broken in, if you understand what I mean.”
“So you’re saying you’d like to remain married to him?” I framed it simply.
“Yes.”
“Have you considered taking a lover?” At this, her eyes opened slightly, a sign of arousal. She looked pointedly at me and frowned to see my erection had disappeared. I knew she was wondering where she’d lost me.
“Why… why…” she stuttered to answer.
“Have you?” I detested weakness. I didn’t give a shit whether she was screwing around. I just didn’t want her wasting my time by not being up front about it.
“Well…” she began, her fingers twisting together.
“You have, then?” I didn’t even wait for her confirmation but made notes on my tablet. This seemed to concern her, even alarm her.
“What are you writing?” she demanded, sitting upright.
“Just making notes, Mrs. Marcum. It’s quite normal,” I answered matter-of-factly. I knew she was discomfited. She wasn’t sure whether to defend herself or release her claws into me. I didn’t give her a chance to decide. “Mrs. Marcum, we’re going to end the session for today. I believe we should schedule a session for me to see Mr. Marcum next time, alone. Then, we’ll follow that with one for you both. This is really a couple’s counseling situation as there is nothing to be accomplished without Mr. Marcum’s input and cooperation. Good day,” I finished and stood, signaling an end to the conversation.
Her carefully molded face turned sour, and I glimpsed the hell old man Marcum must see every morning over his breakfast table. It was no wonder he had performance issues.
I found myself looking forward to lunch as I opened the door for Stephanie Marcum to make her exit. I noticed as she passed that her perfume no longer had any effect on me. In fact, quite the opposite. Interesting.