Page 115 of Best In Class
“Happily married couples don’t have a lot of sex, but they have intimacy, they have closeness. You two are holding off, maybe because you want more time to get comfortable with your new reality, or maybe it’s just a mating dance. I see nothing wrong with that.” Dr. Ryan sets her notebook on the small table by her chair. “And it’s not like you don’twant tohave sex. You have to stop yourself from going all the way, right?”
“True. Though, he’s the one who stops, says I’m not ready.”
“I agree with him,” Dr. Ryan states.
“When will I be ready?”
“When you’re ready,” she replies unhelpfully.
“He must have the bluest balls this side of the Mississippi.”
Dr. Ryan chuckles. “I hear it’s not a fatal condition.”
CHAPTER 29
Dom
The plans for the Minton Memorial Hospital are almost final. We’ve been refining details for weeks—fire exits, airflow, material specs, energy metrics—and everything is clicking into place.
We’re on the cusp of locking it down, with the foundation scheduled for late fall. The weather in Savannah gets unpredictable around hurricane season, and we agreed it made more sense to pour concrete when we wouldn’t be racing the rain every other day.
We are planning for patience. Tommy doesn’t give a damn when the foundation will be laid. All he cares about is showing the world what he’s doing.
He wants a press preview, a.k.a. a dog-and-pony show.
He wants to flaunt his good works to donors and friends with checkbooks and egos twice the size of the hospital wings, which is why Luna and I are meeting him, Camy, hisPR people, that clown Jason Marquez, and a fucking photographer.
Luna’s eyes flicker with irritation. This is the part of the project that interests her the least.
I had to drag her to this meeting. Tommy would much prefer I did this alone, because God forbid someone without a penis would be leading a project he was fundingout of the goodness of his heart. More his ego than his heart, but that was true for many of the clients I worked with.
I have no clue what Camy is doing here, but she’s spending her time flashing dirty looks at me like I kicked her dog.
This is the definition of a clusterfuck.
And then it gets worse.
“I think it would be best if Dominic takes the lead at the press preview,” Tommy’s PR person, Helena Houston, drawls in herveryTexan accent. “Luna can be…support.”
She says the word like it’s a four-letter one.
My blood goes hot with anger.
“I don’t know if you know this, Helena, but Luna is the lead architect on this project.” I keep my tone easy. It’s the start of the meeting, there’s plenty of time for me to sharpen my attitude.
Tommy glares at me.
Luna also glares at me.
Their reasons are different, but I’m still the receiver of their wrath.
Tommy wants a man—I mean, he’s even fine witha half-black man over a white woman. Give the man theDEI Champion Of The Yearaward.
Misogynistic bastard!
Luna hates anything to do with the press and is happy to hand this nonsense to me so she can do therealwork. Since this is how women get sidelined, I’m not going to let her sneak off.
Helena blinks, surprised, not used to a man saying he doesn’t want the limelight. “But?—”
