Page 6 of Unhinged

She tipped her head toward the man. “It’s Dr. Whitmore, but fine so far, thank you. How about you?”

Steve Iverson was known for taking liberties, and he was both pompous and overbearing. He was far too familiar sometimes, and it grated on her nerves.

He’d first come to counseling about eight months ago when his mother had passed away after a long, difficult battle with cancer. He’d recently taken it upon himself to start calling her by her first name, which irked her. She insisted on keeping a professional distance from her patients, and she didn’t encourage his familiarity. Still, he persisted.

He let out another beleaguered sigh and allowed his head to drop back on the couch. “Exhausting. I have to drive down to San Antonio tomorrow, and I won’t be back until the beginning of next week.”

“What are you working on this time?” she asked.

“I have a project for a new client.” His mouth kicked up in a haughty smirk. “He said my designs are the best in the state.”

“That’s fantastic. Work seems to be going well—what about everything else?” She bit back a sigh. He was the most self-important man she’d ever known, and she’d foist him off on someone else in a heartbeat if she could. Unfortunately, the weekly appointments paid well and put food in her fridge.

Nearly an hour later, Steve leaned forward and lowered his voice. “So, I ran into Ashley on my way in.” He emphasized her name with no little amount of distaste. “What a mess. How’s the transition coming?”

Despite the tension in her shoulders, she kept her face impassive as she responded. “You know I can’t talk about other patients, Steve.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. Aren’t we past that?”

She merely blinked at him, unwilling to rise to the bait. “Is there anything else you’d like to discuss before we wrap up for today?”

Steve studied her for a moment, his eyes raking over her from head to toe, and a shudder of revulsion threatened to overtake her at his intense perusal.

“You know, Hannah, you’ve really helped me these last few months.”

She forced her mouth into a semblance of a smile. “That’s wonderful, Steve. I’m glad to know our sessions have been productive.”

“How about you let me thank you?” A sinking feeling gathered in her gut as he continued. “Let me take you to dinner tonight.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t date patients.”

“What if I stop seeing you professionally? Would you go out with me then?”

Not in this lifetime. “I’m sorry, Steve. I just wouldn’t feel right about it.”

His face fell into a mulish expression, and she smiled as gently as she could. “I really am flattered, though. You’re smart and successful, Steve, and you’ll find a woman who’s perfect for you.”

His lips tipped up in a tight smile, and he stood to leave. “See you next week, Hannah.”

“Can’t wait,” she mouthed silently as Steve strode from the room.

She let out a little sigh as she jotted down a few final notes from their session to enter into the computer later. Her mind whirled as her pen scratched against the old-fashioned notebook she used during sessions. Something about putting pen to paper was oddly cathartic, and it helped to seal details in her mind better than tapping letters on a screen.

She really had no idea why Steve kept coming back, except obviously to bother her. She hated to judge her patients, but he didn’t speak of anything of substance during their sessions. He’d initially opened up to talk about his relationship with his mother, but it seemed that her battle with cancer and subsequent death didn’t compare to his constant need to speak about himself—his job, his success, his wealth. Steve had basically spent the last few months bragging to her once a week.

She cringed at the direction of her thoughts. He paid well, and she really shouldn’t judge. He just made it so darn hard.

A faint stirring in the lobby caught her attention, and she followed the litany of raised voices. Her receptionist, Fiona, stood between Steve and her next patient, Rachel Dawes.

“Good afternoon, Rachel,” she said warmly. “Is there something I can help with?”

Rachel turned a pained look her way. “This jerk”—she pointed a finger wildly at Steve—“needs to mind his own business.”

A cocky smile flitted across his lips as he held up his hands in a show of mock surrender. “I was just trying to be helpful.”

“You know nothing about my life,” Rachel shot back. “So feel free to keep your questions and ‘advice’ to yourself.” She glanced back at Hannah. “He’s antagonizing me.”

Hannah turned her gaze to Fiona. "Did you happen to hear anything?”