Page 30 of Dirty Dix

“Dr. Mathews,” she frantically says, which is very uncharacteristic of her.

“Yes, Ms. Vale?” I quickly reply. “Is everything okay?”

“Dr. Mathews, a patient who doesn’t have an appointment insists on seeing you.”

I hear Susanna cover the receiver and address whoever is outside, making it quite clear she’ll have to make an appointment if she wishes to see me.

“Oh, stop right there! Miss, you can’t go in there,” Susanna states. Before I know what’s happening, my office door flies open, and a hysterical Juliet charges in.

Susanna is chasing after her, her face filled with irritation and concern, but I wave her off, as Juliet looks like hell.

“I’m so sorry, Dr. Mathews! She just barged in here,” Susanna apologizes while glaring at a sobbing Juliet.

“It’s fine, Ms. Vale. Please shut the door on your way out.”

She looks at me, slightly confused, but she does as I ask because she knows I don’t mince my words. The moment the door closes, I stand behind my desk, watching Juliet as she weeps uncontrollably. I stand motionless because I don’t know what to do.

Professionally, I’m not to hug or canoodle her, as I’m not her friend. I’m not here to cuddle her and tell her everything will be all right. But as her lover, that’s exactly what I should be doing. And this is why you do not get involved with your patients.

“Juliet, is everything okay?” I ask, still standing behind my desk, using it as a barrier between us.

“What does it look like? No, everything is not fucking okay!” she cries, her tearstained eyes meeting mine.

Clearing my throat and adjusting my tie, I round my desk and point at the sofa.

“Please, take a seat.”

“I’m not here to get fucking psychoanalyzed, Dixon.” But she thankfully slumps onto the couch, and her sniffles lessen.

Taking a seat near her, I place my palm on her bare knee. “What’s happened? Why are you so upset?”

“No matter how hard I try, I’ll never be good enough,” she whispers, her lip trembling as she lowers her face.

“Good enough for whom?” I gently ask.

“For…anybody,” she replies, and her slight pause has me wondering what she originally wanted to say.

“That’s not true,” I rebuke. “You just have to believe in yourself, Juliet. I know how messed up that sounds, considering our current circumstances. But any man would be lucky to have your affections.”

“You think?” She sniffs, raising her face.

“I know,” I confirm. “All these awards on my walls confirm I know what I’m talking about,” I add with a small smile, hoping to lighten the mood.

Thankfully, she laughs and reaches into her clutch for a tissue. As she dabs at her eyes, I wonder what brought this on. The doctor in me has long gone, and I’m speaking to her purely as her lover.

“Is there anything I can do?” I ask, reaching forward and brushing aside a strand of blond hair.

“Maybe we could, I don’t know, talk?”

This is the first time I’ve seen her be…vulnerable, and it’s a look that suits her.

“Sure, I’d like that.” I realize I don’t actually know anything about her.

I know how to make her come with my mouth in five quick seconds. And how she likes to be fucked, but I don’t actually knowwhoshe is and what she likes that’s non-sex-related. I thought she was happy just being fuck buddies, but that was my screwup, as I should have never assumed—looks like my mother was right once again.

“Do you think we could grab a coffee after work?”

At this moment, the Juliet Harte I thought I knew has just flipped my beliefs onto their ass, and this person sitting beforeme is a complete stranger. This stranger is one I actually want to get to know better.

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