Page 2 of Reclaiming My Wife

Cindy Collins — yes, the Cindy Collins, movie star sensation — considered me her personal therapist even though I didn’t have a practice. I’d happened upon her one night after my best friend dragged me out to Los Angeles’ newest club. I was escaping the stifling dance floor, and Cindy was outside crying. She and her current boyfriend had just called it quits, and when I tried to talk her down from making a scene, I let it slip that I was studying to be a psychologist with a specialty in grief counseling. She immediately put me on her speed dial.

She called me when her dog ran away, even though it actually never left the backyard.

She called me when her driver backed into another car in the parking lot.

She called me when she found her first gray hair.

The woman was exhausting, but we’d sort of become friends, and I never let her phone call go to voicemail.

Her sobs grew louder when I firmly told her that I wasn’t coming over. “But… but… have you read the tabloids? They think I’m sleeping with Tony! Like I would ever sleep with a slob like that, but they’re saying it’s how I got my latest movie gig. That I screwed the director!”

“Breathe, Cindy. Deep breath in, count one, two, three, four. Now out, one, two, three, four,” I said in a soothing, lilting tone. We did this a few times until she stopped hyperventilating. “Good. Now, focus on what you know.”

She sniffed and inhaled yet another deep breath, very familiar with this practice. “I know that I did not and would never sleep with a man just to get a job. I’m far too talented to have to do that.”

I tried not to cringe. “Good. Tell me something else that you know.”

She made a growling noise. “Celebrities Tonight is a crappy magazine and only spouts lies.”

“That’s good, Cindy. Now, what did we talk about the last time a tabloid focused on you?”

There was a beat of silence before she sighed. “That the readers know it’s shit, and I shouldn’t worry about it. I must be doing something right if the tabloids are focusing on me. Haters are always going to hate.”

It wasn’t exactly how I’d put it, but it was close enough. “That’s right. See? Everything is okay. What you need to focus on is your reaction. You know all of this, but you still panic. In situations like this, you need to take a moment and evaluate everything.”

“You’re right. You’re always right, Jillian. I’m so sorry for ruining your dinner.” She paused, and I could practically hear her wheels turning. “Wait, you’re eating dinner now? Are you with your grandparents or something?”

Even though I was miles away from her, I blushed and covered my face with my hand. I knew she couldn’t see me, but I didn’t want her to hear the embarrassment in my voice. “No, I’m not with my grandparents, but I do need to get back inside. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m good. Thanks, Jillian. You always know how to make me feel better.” She gushed her thanks over and over again before I managed to end the phone call. Hurrying back to the table, I tried to ignore Don’s cold silence as I picked up my fork.

“You might as well get it to go,” he sighed, much too dramatically for the occasion. “It’ll be cold now.”

“It’s fine, Don. Really.”

He waved a fork in my direction. “How many times do I have to tell you that your relationship with that woman is damaging to your reputation? You are a serious student with a bright future. She ridicules everything that you’ve worked so hard for, Jill.”

I hated that he shortened my name. No one had called me Jill since my parents died.

“We’ve talked about this before, Don. Cindy isn’t officially a client. I don’t charge her, and just because she’s a celebrity doesn’t mean that her issues aren’t real.”

His lips curved into a judgmental sneer. “So, what was her issue tonight?”

“That’s confidential, and you know it.” My steak was cold, but I didn’t want to bring up more issues by asking to have it warmed up.

“Jill, I’m just looking out for your future. I know what I’m talking about, and you need to take my advice if you want to cultivate the kind of clientele that I have. Respectable. You want to be taken seriously by your peers.” He was in full-on lecture mode now, and my teeth were grinding so hard they nearly squeaked. “Perhaps I’ll speak to your advisor on this matter.”

He was going to talk to my advisor about my friendship with Cindy? That was a little over the top. “I appreciate you wanting to look out for me, but that won’t be necessary,” I said carefully before attempting to distract him. “How’s your salad?”

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