The Rivals

“Something like that.”

“Have you made her aware of your history?”

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific there, Doc. What history are we talking about? Me sleeping with half the showgirls in Vegas? The abuse of alcohol? That my family is pretty much done with me unless I clean up my act? Or do you mean that I have babysitters who report back to my grandfather each week?”

I liked that Dr. Halpern rarely reacted—not even to my sarcastic questions. Instead, she just responded with no judgment.

“I was referring to your struggle with alcohol.”

I shook my head. “No, that hasn’t come up.”

“Are you concerned it might be an issue for her, and that’s why you haven’t mentioned it?”

“It’s just not the type of relationship we have.”

“Well, many relationships start out as one thing and grow into something else. Sometimes when people wait too long to share something, there are hard feelings when it finally comes out. The person who was in the dark can feel an element of distrust.”

“Trust me, our relationship isn’t growing into anything more than it is.”

“Why is that?”

“She’s a nice girl—the kind who dates struggling playwrights, not recovering alcoholics who let down their family and can’t remember the names of half the women who’ve been in their bed.”

“When you say you let your family down, do you mean in a business sense, because your drinking interfered with your job? Or are you referring to Caroline?”

“All of it.”

Dr. Halpern picked up her trusty pad and jotted a few notes again.

“What if I wanted to see those?”

“My notes?”

I nodded. “You’re always writing, and it makes me curious.”

Dr. Halpern smiled. Again, she folded her hands on her lap. “You’re welcome to see my notes if it’s causing you stress to not know what I’m writing. But I’m not sure reading them will make it clear why I thought whatever I’ve written down was important. How about, if you’re curious, just ask me, and I’ll tell you what I wrote and explain why I wrote it.”

“Okay… What did you write down when I said I felt I’d let my family down?”

She looked down at her pad and then back up at me. “I wrote misplaced guilt over Caroline’s death. And the reason I wrote that is because what seems to be at the center of your mental health issues is your sister.”

I shook my head. “You’re wrong.”

“Meaning you don’t think some of your struggles deal with the death of your sister, Caroline?”

“Oh no. I didn’t mean that. Most definitely I struggle with my sister’s death. What I meant was you were wrong in writing down misplaced guilt. My guilt is exactly where it belongs.”

***

The hall lights in the executive office corridor were on a timer. After seven, sensors at various points would activate them only when motion was detected. Since I’d had a mostly unproductive afternoon, I decided to call it a night and go get something to eat at seven thirty. Closing up my office, I noticed the hall didn’t illuminate right away, and it was easy to see that all the office doors were either closed or the lights were off. So as I walked down toward the elevator, I assumed Sophia wasn’t in her office. But as I passed, I caught something in my peripheral vision that caused me to back up to her doorway.

“You’re still here?”

The lights in Sophia’s office flickered on. She must’ve been sitting so still that the motion sensors couldn’t detect her.

“Were you sleeping or something?”

Sophia’s eyes seemed to focus. “No, I guess I was lost in thought and didn’t even realize the lights had turned off.”

Yeah, I know the feeling.

I nodded. “I made some calls today and asked around about your contractor. Let’s just go with the Boltons.”

“Oh, great. I was going to ask you about that. Travis called me today to follow up.”

Hearing that the asshole had called her made me want to change my mind. “What time did he call?”

“I don’t know, maybe about eleven. Why?”

“Then why didn’t you ask me?”

Sophia’s lips puckered, while mine twitched to a grin. “Avoiding me again?”

“Just busy, Weston. Just once, can you not make something about you?”

“Sure, when I don’t think it actually is.”

Sophia rolled her eyes. “Is it difficult to carry around an ego that size? It must get heavy.”

I laughed. Tilting my head toward the elevator panel, I said, “I was going to go downstairs to get something to eat. Did you have dinner yet?”

Sophia shook her head.

“Want to join me?”

She nibbled on that pouty bottom lip. “I still have a lot of work to do.”

“I’m not asking for your hand in marriage, Fifi. Two people who work together can share a meal. If it makes you feel any better, we can discuss business while we eat. I spoke to the union again today and can fill you in.”