Page 90 of High Society

He nods. “But it’s not just that. I’m also dealing with this… um… legal situation…”

“Kyla?”

His head jerks up, and his eyes lock onto hers. “I told you about her?”

Holly nods. “And her friend, yes.”

“It’s a shakedown, nothing more!” His expression is almost pleading. “They’re jumping on this vulnerable political climate to extort me.”

Holly musters a sympathetic nod.

Simon’s face crumples, and he suddenly looks very old to her. “I can’t remember our last session,” he says. “Practically nothing about it. What else did I tell you? I’ve got to know!”

“Nothing too different from what we’ve discussed before,” Holly says, deliberately easing the blow. “You did touch on your legal challenges with the two young women.”

“Shit,” he murmurs.

Holly doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he also described including her in his bondage fantasies. Instead, she says, “You mentioned JJ, too.”

Simon’s head twitches. “JJ? What did I say?”

“Just that you two had had a run-in last month after you shared some of your… proclivities with her.”

He sinks lower into his chair. “That was nothing. I thought we were having a… connection. I was only trying to be up-front with JJ.”

“It’s all right, Simon.”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Why are my memories from that last session so jumbled? That’s never happened before with ketamine. Even that time you added in MDMA.”

“That’s my fault, Simon.”

“Your fault? How?”

“You became very distressed. I gave you a sedative, midazolam, at the end of the session to help calm you. But it often causes short-term amnesia.”

Simon looks back up at her. For a moment, Holly senses hostility, even hatred, behind his tight stare. But then his face relaxes into a more familiar, affable smile. “You yanked me out of a bad trip. I guess I should probably thank you.”

“No, you shouldn’t. I had no right to pry while you were on ketamine. It stressed you out. And I’m sorry.”

He folds his arms across his chest. “Eh, live and learn.”

His body language suggests that he’s far less accepting of her explanation than what he is letting on, but Holly feels too sheepish to prod or dig any deeper. “Thank you for understanding.”

Simon sighs. “Look, Dr. D, I know you must be disgusted by my… how do the French put it?… peccadillos.”

Holly smiles. “I think that word might be Spanish.”

“The point is I’ve been plagued by these fantasies since I was a kid. The urge to tie women up. To dominate them.”

Holly pushes away her discomfort at the thought of him fantasizing about her that same way. “Fantasies aren’t always voluntary.”

“Right! Exactly. Listen, I’m no shrink, but it has to all go back to my relationship with my mother. That woman raised me single-handedly. But she also resented the fuck out of me. I could never win her approval, let alone her love.”

Holly nods. “A repetitive childhood trauma like that could contribute to your sexual predilections. And to addiction. No question.”

“Another therapist once told me that my bondage fantasies are related to my very deep insecurity. How I was starved for love and approval as a child. The way he explained it was that basically I physically restrain—trap—the women I’m with for fear they’ll otherwise slip away. Metaphorically speaking, to prevent their love from escaping.”

The rationale sounds rehearsed to Holly. And in her mind, it’s too literal an explanation, not to mention very convenient, for his dark fetishes. But all she says is “There could be a connection, yes.”

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