Page 22 of One Night with the CEO

Genevieve pulled her into a hug. “There you go. I’ve got you, Mia.”

For the first time in a long time, Mia allowed herself to let go with another person. She hugged Genevieve as she cried into her shoulder. Genevieve simply held her tighter, waiting for her to calm.

When she did, Mia pulled away, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. You’ve got an early morning tomorrow, and here I am disturbing your sleep.”

Genevieve gave her an incredulous look. “You think I care about that? I care about you. Do you want to talk? What do you need?”

Mia shrugged. “It’s nothing, really. Just a nightmare. I’m not used to them anymore, so I got caught off guard and didn’t handle it very well.”

“Do you often get panic attacks?”

“Not as often as I used to, but they turn up every now and then.”

“Have you ever considered therapy?”

Mia grimaced. “Yeah, I have… but I’m not so keen on telling a stranger about… well, everything.”

“I know it must be intimidating, but I really think it might be worth it. There are treatments for PTSD, and I think they could really help you.”

“I do know that,” Mia sighed. “Logically, it makes perfect sense. I guess I’m just scared.”

“If you’d like, I could come to the appointment with you. It might be easier to talk to a stranger if you know you have a friendly face waiting in reception when you’re done.”

Mia had to admit that this idea did sound easier than trying to force herself to go on her own. “I’ll consider that. Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure. Whatever you need, Mia. I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.” Mia pulled Genevieve back down into bed and cuddled into her, her head laying on Genevieve’s chest.

She was scared to sleep again, but the rhythmic sound of Genevieve’s breathing soon had her dozing off.

This time, she slept without nightmares.

7

Genevieve

Genevieve ambled to the lounge, glancing at her watch. It was five to six, and Mia was never late. Just a few minutes, and her stupidly long day would suddenly look a lot brighter.

Genevieve spent the time going over pleasant memories in her head. Just a few days ago, she and Mia had gone to a sunflower farm. Mia had taken her camera and snapped some shots of Genevieve—naked in various poses among the flowers—before sitting down to paint. Genevieve idly picked up her phone and started scrolling through the photos.

Once Mia had all the shots she’d wanted, Genevieve had insisted on taking some of her, equally naked, just to be fair, of course. Fortunately, they’d had their clothes on by the time one of the gardeners came past, who had kindly obliged them by taking several photos of them together.

Genevieve smiled as she looked through pictures of her and Mia among the sunflowers. It had been a great date.

When she looked at the time again, she saw that it was ten past six. Genevieve frowned. Mia was never late.

She sent a quick text.

Hey, Mia, are we still on for tonight?

Genevieve waited a few minutes, but there was no response.

Mia, is everything ok?

Still nothing.

Please respond to this so that I know you’re alright.

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