Page 56 of Dancing With Delusion

“I just can’t think straight when she’s not around,” I mutter. “And what if . . .” I sigh.

“Go on,” she encourages.

I knock half the drink back, wincing. “What if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“My mother spent many years in and out of those places. It’s standard practice to isolate the patient until they’re feeling more like themselves.”

I drain the glass. “Isolate,” I repeat, shaking my head. “I don’t want her to be isolated. She’s not in prison.”

“Maybe throw yourself into work. You clearly need a distraction.”

I sigh heavily. “If only it was that easy.”

“Yah know, if you’re lonely . . .”

I stand abruptly, placing my empty glass on the desk. “Don’t finish that sentence, Vivian.”

“I’m simply offering a service,” she continues. “You’re pent-up, and I know it must be killing you to not be in the playroom.”

“Stop talking,” I snap.

“You can’t go from a four-times-a-day kind of man to—” I swoop down, gripping her neck and lifting her to her feet. Her eyes sparkle, and she smirks. “There he is,” she whispers. “My Master.”

I shove her away in disgust, and she falls back onto the couch. “Every single time I let my guard down, you’re there like a desperate bitch in heat,” I spit. “I can’t make it any clearer, Vivian. I literally walked in here to find my father practically draped over you.”

“Jealous?” she quips.

“Jesus, no. I actually felt a second of relief hoping you’d moved on. I love Victoria, and there is no way on this earth I’ll ever be with anyone but her, so back off.”

I storm out, ignoring my father as he spins to see what the commotion is. I get into the car, taking Marshall by surprise. “Kat’s,” I bark, and he starts the engine.

When we arrive, I get out the car before Marshall can open my door. “You can get off for a few hours,” I tell him.

Nik looks up from my office chair when I stalk in. He jumps up, slamming his laptop shut and tucking it under his arm. “Everything okay?” he asks.

“Should it not be?”

“You just seem . . . distracted.”

“So everyone keeps telling me,” I mutter. “But in case anyone hasn’t noticed, Victoria is locked up in some mental institution and I can’t reach her.” The office door swings open and Phoebe marches in. I groan. “Great.”

“I’ve just spoken to Marshall,” she snaps. Nik steps in front of her, blocking her path to me, and she shoves at him. “Get the hell out my way.”

“It’s fine, Nik,” I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose. Today can’t get much worse. “Leave us.”

He reluctantly steps from the office, and I point to the seat in front of my desk. “Where is she?” Phoebe demands.

“Good question,” I say.

“What does that mean?”

“Did Marshall tell you everything?”

“I don’t know, Dmitry, why don’t you tell me what you know, and I’ll piece it together,” she hisses, sitting down and folding her arms over her chest.

“She isn’t well.”

Phoebe frowns. “In what way?”

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