Page 12 of Wicked Dix

Fine. Her clipped response just told me to go fuck myself.

I need to fix this.Let’s do something fun this weekend.

I’m thankful when she replies,Like what?

I don’t know. You choose.

Spending Sat through to Sun with you sounds fun to me.

Usually, her reply would have me happier than a pig in shit, but now I feel like a complete asshole.

I can’t Saturday morning, but Saturday evening and all day Sunday, I’m yours.

What’s going on Sat morning?

I groan while typing out my bullshit reply.Nothing important.

I get a simpleOkayin return.

I’m ruining my relationship, but I remind myself I’m doing this for Maddy.

I’ll pick you up around 4?I’m still staring at my phone ten minutes later, awaiting her reply.

I thump my forehead against the desk just as Ms. Vale knocks on my door. “Dr. Mathews. I have the coffee and painkillers you asked for. Oh dear, are you all right?” she asks when she steps inside my office.

“Fine. Just leave it on my desk, Ms. Vale,” I reply, not even bothering to raise my head. Her cautious footsteps reveal she’sapproaching me as she would a caged tiger. “Will there be anything else?” I ask when those footsteps aren’t directing her back toward the door.

She clears her throat. “I, just…I’m sorry to pry, but are you okay?”

“Never been better.”

She doesn’t believe a word, but she doesn’t press. “If you say so but…” She unexpectedly pauses. “You may want to change your shirt before Chad arrives.” She then whispers, “You’ve got last week’s tuna salad on the front right pocket.”

“I was saving it for later,” I reply, failing to disguise my disgust at my sloppy appearance. “Please reschedule my appointment to next week.”

There is no way I can face Chad, looking and smelling the way I do. I have no idea what this meeting is about, but it can wait. My head isn’t in the game, and I’d only end up fucking things up.

“Okay, Dr. Mathews. Your ten a.m. is waiting for you in reception.”

It’s only ten o’clock? Surely I’ve been here longer than an hour.

Finally raising my head, I meet her concerned gaze. “Who is it?”

By her poor attempt at masking her smile, I know it’s bad. “Paul Childs.”

Groaning, I drop my head back down onto my desk. “Great. Please bring in the Febreze once we’re done.”

“Of course. I’ll give you a couple of minutes before I send him in.” The door closes, announcing her departure.

I raise my head, but slump back down a few moments later when Paul strolls into my office, sucking on a pacifier and appearing to be wearing an adult diaper underneath his slacks.

Today can blow me.

When Finch asked to meet tonight instead of our usual Friday night, I was more than happy to oblige. It beats drinking alone, which I’ve been doing since this whole fiasco started.

“Holy shit! What’s your new cologne? Eau de dog shit?”

“Hello to you too, Hunter.” I finish my sentence by flipping him off.

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