Page 34 of Physical Therapy

SEVENTEEN

Boe

Fucking head shrinker. I chuckle into my scotch. I guess it was a new experience, being psychoanalyzed while balls deep in a woman. I can tick that one off the list now.

The unmistakable commotion of Clara and the twins drifts through the workplace. I stash the hip flask back in my desk to finish later and then straighten my tie.

“In here.” My sister shepherds her spawn into my office. “Sit in front of Uncle Boe’s desk.” She gives me a flat smile as a brief acknowledgment before delving into her massive mom-bag and producing a small coloring book and crayons.

The twins immediately cease their chatter, their little hands scrapping over the best colors. Clara nudges a clear space on the front of my desk to perch her ass.

“What did you need me for?”

I shut my laptop and set it aside before leaning back in my chair. “I have an issue I need a woman’s perspective on.”

She groans. “Seriously, Boe. Is this something I can discuss in front of the kids?”

“They’re too young to understand, right?”

“They’re four,” she deadpans. “They may not understand what we’re talking about but they’re perfectly capable of repeating what they hear.”

Duly noted. “So, that therapist you sent me to.”

She buries her face in her hands. “No. You’re not going to say what I think you are. Nope.”

“She came over last night.”

“And… you just did.” Clara’s hands hit her lap with a slap. “Why?”

I shrug. “She’s attractive.”

“The woman at the coffee shop is attractive,” she cries, throwing one of her hands out in front of her. “But I don’t see you jumping the counter to do her.”

I fold my hands behind my head. “Are you going to help me with this, or not?”

“You’re beyond help, little brother.”

“You know me so well,” I jest. “Anyway. I kicked her out.”

She fixes me with a blank stare. “And this is unusual how?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“So why did you?” she asks as though the answer to my problem should be obvious.

“Because she was probing into my head while we were fuck—”

“Words!”

I glance at my niece and nephew. They’re unfazed. “Cuddling.”

Clara sighs, rising from my desk. “What did you expect, Boe? You hired her to straighten you out. Instead, you straighten her out.” She paces to the window, bending to peer out between the blinds. “I’m seriously questioning how good she is at her job if all it takes it two sessions to break her.”

“Three,” I correct. “And she’s good at it. That’s the issue.”

“You want her to keep counseling you?” Clara turns to face me.

“I want her to do both.”

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