Page 147 of Naughty Nelle

CHAPTER 23

Ari

Dr. Harold Zimmer’s office was what you would expect of a top Manhattan psychiatrist. Located in a venerable building on upper Fifth Avenue, it overlooked Central Park and that in and out of itself was calming. The spacious office was likewise soothing, decorated in muted shades of beige with sleek furnishings that included a large mid-century teak desk. His numerous degrees and awards dotted the walls along with framed photos of his family. In practice for almost forty years, he had been a classmate of my father’s at Penn State and had remained good friends with him until his untimely death. Having grown up with him my entire life, he was like a surrogate father. After the Cassandra incident, I’d been seeing him regularly to deal with my issues—my overbearing need to protect Ben and my fear of commitment. He knew everything about my life, including my business dealings, meaningless hook-ups, and the love-hate relationship with my sister. He did not, however, know about the new force in my life: Sarah.

Sitting in a club chair angled toward me while I sat on the cushy couch, the good doctor adjusted his steel frame eyeglasses and eased into our weekly session. After some small talk about the weather and our families, he asked me what I wanted to talk about.

I shifted in my spot and fidgeted my fingers. “I met someone.”

Dr. Zimmer cocked a brow. “A woman?”

I nodded.

“It’s about time. What’s her name?”

“Sarah.”

My shrink smiled. “A beautiful name. The same as one of my granddaughters.”

Dr. Zimmer had three grown daughters and ten grandchildren he adored. Sometimes I envied the fact that he and his wife Leah had so much nachas—good fortune—in their lives while my parents had been gypped. Ben was my mother’s only grandchild and would likely remain so as my career-driven sister and her husband didn’t want to have children.

“How did you meet?” he continued.

“On the train…on the way home from Philly.” I hesitated to tell him more and then I just blurted it out. “I fucked her.”

Regrettably, I should have said “seduced her,” but it was too late. If Dr. Zimmer was shocked, he didn’t show it. Instead he chuckled.

“Sounds like you had to have her.”

I flashed a diffident half-smile. “Yeah. That’s a good way of putting it.”

“And you’ve seen her again?”

I told him yes and that I’d invited her to my apartment for Ben’s birthday.

“That’s quite a breakthrough…bringing a woman to your home and introducing her to your son and your family.”

Feeling comfortable and proud of my breakthrough, I then told him about our weekend in the Hamptons, leaving out the sexual details.

“So, did you have sex with her again?”

“Yes, but I haven’t technically slept with her.”

“You mean spent the night with her.”

“Yes.”

My shrink was well aware of the major problem I had sharing my bed with a woman. Since my divorce, not one had been allowed in it. Dr. Zimmer continued to interrogate me, his voice calm and non-judgmental.

“And how does Ben feel about her?”

“He really seems to like her. And the feeling is mutual. Sarah is really comfortable around him.”

Dr. Zimmer clasped his hands, his face brightening. “That’s excellent.”

I squirmed again and felt my chest tightening. A wave of anxiety washed over me. “Doc, I’m freaking out.”

“Why? Because you like her?”

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