Page 10 of Donovan's Men

“I asked you to come in today so you could meet with some of the trauma counselors from our employee assistance program.” He waved to our team, but his gaze honed in on me.

I stepped farther into the room. “My name is Hamish McAllister. I’m the team leader for Johnson Employee Assistance Program. We call it JEAP for short.” I indicated my team. “Marianne and her trusty companion, Ollie.” Ollie, who sat at attention, waved his paw.

That brought a few smiles and titters from the crowd.

“As well as Hala and Ian.”

They waved.

A few people waved back.

“We’ve done this before, unfortunately, but we don’t have all the answers. We’re here to listen, to offer support, and to help match you to a counselor for more in-depth help if you need it. No judgment here.”

Val raised his hand. “All counseling costs are covered by the studio, so you don’t have to worry about money. Whatever you need, for however long you need. And if that means taking time off from work, we’ll figure something out.” He glanced at me. “Perhaps we can get someone here full-time?”

We hadn’t talked about it, but I was positive my boss could arrange that. “Yes, I believe so.”

He winced a little, likely realizing he’d put me on the spot.

I offered a reassuring smile. I’d make time in my own schedule if that’s what it took.

“Do we do this in private or as a group?” Julie looked at me. “Because I suppose I should go first.”

Bravery. No two ways about it. And likely trying to set the tone for the rest of the group—letting them know that talking to us was not a sign of weakness but of strength. “Whatever makes you feel most comfortable.”

“I’m happy to talk to you.” Julie offered a small smile as she pointed to Marianne and Ollie.

Elouise held up her hand. “Me too. Can Kelci come?”

Hala grinned. “Of course. I’m happy to speak to you both.”

Another guy raised his hand. “I…uh…” He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t on set, but I was friends with…” He ran his hand through his hair. “And I can’t believe…” He blinked several times.

“Well, happy to chat about it.” Ian offered a sympathetic smile. “Sometimes these are predictable events, and sometimes they come out of nowhere.”

I was sorting through everyone else in my mind when motion from behind me caught my attention.

Donovan himself stepped forward. “I suppose I should go next.” He pointed to the man standing next to him. “This is Detective Tyson McGillvary of the VPD. He wants to talk to me as well. Let’s do a twofer so I can get this over with as soon as possible.”

I eyed the police officer. His brown eyes flicked over me. I couldn’t figure out what he thought about this, but I needed to speak to Donovan. “That’s fine. Where would you like to go?”

“You can go to the production office.” Val smiled—although a little tentatively.

“Yeah, that works.” Donovan nodded to the man, then gestured that the police officer and I follow him.

This was not how I expected to begin my first session today, but I was willing to roll with it. I followed him into a small room, doing my best to ascertain what was going on in his mind. As things stood, I couldn’t find a reason to try to put a halt to things.

Recognizing Donovan had been easy enough—the man’s quiet beauty spoke to me. Dark skin, piercing brown eyes, and a hesitancy that I wouldn’t have anticipated.

Of course, getting shot might do that to a man.

Or perhaps he was always guarded and careful around strangers.

Nope, that didn’t feel right. He worked with all kinds of different people in this industry—I couldn’t see how reticence would get him ahead quickly. Or make him lots of friends.

Donovan pointed to a comfortable couch. He plopped into a chair, clearly leaving the couch for me and Tyson. Perhaps I should’ve thought of him as Detective McGillvary. Except we felt like comrades in arms rather than some kind of oppositional relationship. And he’d caught my notice. His soft brown eyes spoke of depth to me. And the hair…had he gone prematurely gray? Because he didn’t have the lines on his face that normally accompanied gray hair. Finally, although he carried himself like other police officers I’d met, he also had a combination of openness and wariness at the same time—much like myself. Grateful for Donovan’s time…and wishing we were alone.

Both men called to me in unique ways. Shoving those thoughts aside, I placed my notepad on my lap and waited for someone else to speak.