Page 2 of With All My Heart, Joy

“Will I offend you if I eat a granola bar before we start?” Her new counselor grabbed the snack from his desk and took the seat across from her. “My previous client used every last minute of our session.”

Shouldn’t he have a lunch break for that? It was 12:30, after all. Unless… She melted back with embarrassment as she remembered how resolute the receptionist had been yesterday when Joy called after nearly two weeks of agonizing and debating. To go or not to go. To call or not to call.

When she finally dug up the guts to make the call, the answer had been:Isaac Miller isn’t taking new clients; his schedule is full. I can set you up with one of our other counselors if you’d like.Yet, Dr. Miller called her back and miraculously had an opening the very next day. And here she was.

“Dr. Miller, did you give up your lunch break for me?” Why hadn’t she listened to the receptionist? Why had she pushed harder, saying she knew Dr. Miller personally? Why had she insisted on forcing her way into the man’s schedule?

A rush of heat flooded Joy’s face. Just because she didn’t blush easily like her sister didn’t mean she felt no fire in the moment of humiliation.

She was already on her feet moving toward the door when his quiet voice hit her in the back.

“That’s the second time you’ve tried to leave. My lunch break is my business, okay? And I’m just Isaac. Nobody calls me a doctor. Now, are you going to sit back down or what?”

She rotated, her head down. He must think she was off her rocker. Maybe she was. Slinking back to her seat, she sat down and peeked at him. Just as good-looking as when she met him at Lucy’s engagement party, though less formally attired. And just as old. Not that he wasold. He was just significantly older than her. Similar in age to Victor, most likely.

She couldn’t call him Isaac. That was too casual.

“Can we compromise? I’ll call you Mr. Miller.”

His brow creased as if the title pained him. “If I agree, will you stop trying to jet out of here like the place is on fire?”

She puffed out her cheeks, resigned to the moment. “Okay.”

“Great.” He crumpled the granola bar wrapper into a wad and shoved it into his pocket, studying the clipboard containing the intake forms Joy had completed in the lobby. “Joy Janise Halverson…” He drummed his fingers on the padded armrest, then met her eyes. “I mentioned on the phone that I don’t normally accept clients I am personally acquainted with.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t call me sir, either.” He drilled his eyes into her. “Did you come here to make me feel old?”

A laugh found its way out of Joy’s mouth. “No, sir. I mean, no!”

The sound of Isaac’s deep, merry laughter mingling with hers was the best thing she’d heard all day. If she had a laugh like that, she’d find something to laugh about as often as possible.

“Oh, boy.” A few more chuckles rumbled from his chest in a disconnected pattern. “This is going to be fun, huh?” His eyes crinkled at the sides as he took in a breath, let it out, and cleared his throat. “So, as I was saying—”

“You don’t normally accept clients who you know personally, but you said as long as we are professional, you don’t foresee a problem.”

“That’s right. I had a—” his eyes darted to the ceiling, then back to her “—a problem once before, and now I strive to keep things as professional as I can while still putting my clients at ease.”

Joy wasn’t sure if she was reading between the lines correctly, and it wasn’t her business, anyway. But if her counselor was worried she was going to form an emotional attachment to him, he needed to relax.

Number one, she was one big hot mess right now, not looking foranyrelationship.

Number two, she didn’t do age gaps. Period. And only the Lord above knew the vast divide between her twenty-two years and Mr. Miller’s middle age.

She slanted him another glance. Okay, middle age might be too harsh. Whatever he was, he was still far too old for her. Moving on.

Number three, if she were on the hunt for a man, one who provided counseling for a living would not be her first choice, nor her last.

“I think we’re good, Mr. Miller. I’m just here to get help.” The words fell bluntly from her mouth. As an influencer, she spoke carefully on screen. Around her family, she spoke carefully so they wouldn’t freak out about what was happening inside her. It was refreshing to realize she didn’t have to be careful in this space.

“Excellent. That’s why you’re here. I recognized the cry for help yesterday, and I couldn’t say no. There is no lunch with that much value.” He shoved the clipboard between the chair and the cushion, hunching forward a few inches. The movement was slight, but it was enough to change the air between them.

They were done with formalities and light-hearted banter. It was time to talk.

“Why are you here today, Joy?”

Joy shifted her feet one way, then shimmied them back the other way. Her armpits were damp beneath her jacket. “I’m sure Lucy told you.”

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