Page 10 of Allure
Delilah walked her last session out for the day. The woman had been coming to her for a little over a year now, and this was the first time Delilah noticed a change in her when she talked about anything regarding intimacy and sex. The woman’s fear of intimacy and getting close to her partner faded to a distant memory. The hate and disconnect she had for her body had slowly started to melt away, and it felt like Delilah was talking to a brand-new person in this session. It was breathtaking to watch the change happen over the course of the year.
As an intimacy coach with a background in human sexuality, this moment should have elated Delilah. She should have been doing a happy dance seeing another woman learn to go inward and find out what worked for her in and out of the bedroom so she knew how to ask it of her partners. But even though she was happy, she couldn’t shake the dark cloud that seemed to be following her around lately. It felt like no matter how much she worked out and kept to her routines, she couldn’t escape the shadows wrapping around her. It made her skin feel too tight for her body, and her mind became a minefield of things she thought she’d moved past.
What’s the point of all this?
None of this matters.
Your accolades are meaningless.
You are nothing.
Delilah brought her hand up to her chest. Feeling her strong heartbeat pounding against her hand usually steadied her. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, trying and failing to shake the clatter in her mind.
“You’re fine,” she whispered as she opened her eyes again.
She’d been feeling off lately, and the feeling had grown to something tangible, giving her the ability to touch and taste it, making it harder for her to escape. If she wasn’t careful, she’d slip back into a dark place that knew how to hold her prisoner in her mind. She could already hear the shackles clicking in place—her surroundings faded in and out of focus as she fought to claw her way back to the surface, back to a source of light.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving.” Brooklyn Pasetti, one of the receptionists at Essence Wellness, rounded the corner with a stack of folders in her arms and a bright smile on her face. It was infectious, and despite what Delilah was feeling, her own lips turned up into a small smile.
“This was never supposed to be permanent,” she shrugged. “I mean, I do love the space, but it was always contract work so I could focus on other things.”
Those things had been working on a business plan and getting Sirens up and running. Her first and second attempt at opening Sirens had failed miserably. She lost out on what she thought was the perfect space the first time around, and the person she was supposed to go in with bailed on her when she found a different space to use for the club. Now with this roadblock with Garrison Inc, she wasn’t sure if it would happen or if she should take it as a sign to bow out completely of owning her own business.
The deal they offered made sense to her from a business standpoint, but it didn’t stop her from feeling like she got played. A game used to get Syra back in the path of her ex. She wanted to tell Syra to kick Marco and his deal to the curb, but it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t just her and Syra in this deal, it was Kat too. This was their baby, their project, and ultimately Syra would be the one to decide if they went through with it or not.
And you’ll be a failure yet again.
Delilah pushed the wayward thought to the back of her mind, even as it made her think. It was quite possible that the reason she had been feeling off and succumbing to the minefield of her mind had to do with the back-to-back hits she’d been taking on her business ideas, which was causing her to second-guess herself. If Sirens didn’t go up, it was yet another dream she would have to let go for herself.
“Still,” Brooklyn murmured, “it’s been cool having you here. The other person who rented the room before you was a tyrant. You were a nice change of pace, and you did a lot of good here. I’ve seen so many people come through those doors, worried or angry or just downright frustrated about intimacy and their sex lives. When they leave your office, their energy is different. It’s like they become new people.”
Brooklyn waved her hands as she talked, and a couple of folders slipped out from under her arm and onto the floor between them. Brooklyn’s soft curse had Delilah moving before she was conscious of it, and as she bent down to reach for the file, her hand touched Brooklyn’s.
It was only for a second, maybe less, but Delilah sucked in a sharp breath at the charge of energy that coursed through her body. She mumbled her apologies—unsure why she was apologizing—before they both stood tall again.
“Do you plan on taking on more clients when you leave here?” Brooklyn’s voice was breathless as she adjusted the stack of folders in her hand and reached out to grab Delilah’s wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It would be…um….” She cleared her throat. “It would be such a shame if you stopped helping people.”
Delilah’s tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth as she glanced down to where Brooklyn touched her. She knew the gesture was meant to be friendly—an encouraging pat to go along with the praise she was flustered under—but there was that charged energy again. She felt it coursing through her and the air around her, and going by the way Brooklyn’s eyes widened slightly, she felt it too.
Brooklyn had a soft dusting of freckles on her face that teased the smooth tan skin under her green eyes. It was weird; she’d been working with Brooklyn for close to five years now and she hadn’t noticed them before. But now she was filled with a need to count each one with her tongue—wondering where else those freckles coated her skin.
The air conditioning was on in the office, but it did nothing to cool Delilah’s suddenly hot skin and she had to remind her lungs to work. It was hard to remember to breathe as she and Brooklyn stared at each other, getting lost in unspoken words and questions she would never be able to answer because there was one rule she lived by, and that was not shitting where she ate.
No matter how attractive Brooklyn was or how strong Delilah’s need to get lost in her was becoming, in this moment, this was crossing a line. It didn’t matter that she was leaving Essence Wellness. It didn’t matter that Brooklyn didn’t technically work under her or for her. They would still work together at least for another month, and Delilah wasn’t one to mix business with pleasure, no matter how tempting the offer was.
The sound of the front phone ringing pulled Delilah out of whatever was pumping in the air around them, but she hadn’t stepped back yet and neither did Brooklyn. The silence stretched between them, but neither one had been in a rush to fill it.
Brooklyn looked down at where she touched Delilah, and a small smile tugged at her lips before she looked back at her. “I’m really going to miss you, Delilah.” The harsh, sincere tone in her voice made Delilah’s pulse jump at the same time that she felt Brooklyn’s thumb caress her skin.
“Brooklyn,” Delilah warned, unsure where she thought this conversation could go.
“Ms. Santiago, I have a Raven Wright on the phone for you.” Jane, the other receptionist, poked her head around the corner.
Delilah looked past Brooklyn and nodded. “I’ll take it in my office. Thank you, Jane.”
It was a moment longer before Brooklyn dropped her hand and took a step back. The warmth Delilah had gotten from her presence vanished, and she didn’t like how she felt at the loss of her touch.
“Can you make your empanadas one more time before you go? Or at least teach me how you do it? I’ve tried to make them many times, and they don’t come out the way you make them.” Brooklyn chuckled, patting her stomach. “I think I’m going to miss the empanadas the most.”
