She closed her eyes and let that gorgeous word wash over her. Incandescent. Who said things like that? Who used that kind of an adjective? Only a man like Jack. A man who loved the symphony, and who loved her ass. A man who was refined on the outside, and filthy on the inside. Her lips curved up in a naughty grin as she lingered on her dirty, sexy, sophisticated man. When she opened her eyes, she searched out the photo of the two of them, quickly reading the caption. Sob, sob. Looks like things are getting serious with the sex toy mogul and the shrink. They were spotted dancing outside Lincoln Center Saturday night. They look so happy together we want to cry. Don’t tell us you’re off the market, Jack!
She beamed in spite of being in the public eye once more. She beamed because Jack was right. She did look incandescent. Because she was looking at him. She didn’t see what everyone else saw. She didn’t see a sex toy mogul and a shrink. She saw a man and a woman, dancing, gazing, holding.
That’s what she saw.
Surely, that’s all anyone could see.
* * *
But her good mood from Jack’s letter didn’t last. Because there was a knock on her door later that afternoon, and Kana popped in.
“Hey. How’s it going?” Michelle asked.
“Great. May I sit down?”
She gestured to the couch. “Lie down and tell me about your mother,” she joked, and Kana laughed, but the laughter quickly faded.
“So, you’re seeing that guy you sent to me?”
“Whoa,” Michelle said, holding up her hands. “Does everyone read Page Six?”
Kana crinkled her brow. “Um. Yeah. I love that site. I’m addicted, like half of Manhattan,” she said, brushing her black hair away from her face. “Anyway, I just wanted to make sure he was never your patient. You said he was a friend the day you referred him to me.”
She shook her head. “He was never my client.”
“Good. Because you’re one of the best, and I just want to make sure you weren’t leaving yourself open to an ethics investigation.”
“No. God, no. I swear,” she said, and dropped her head in her hands in frustration. Then she lifted her head and met Kana’s gaze straight on. Her colleague was simply concerned, that was all. And Michelle owed her the facts, given that Kana was involved, in a way, now. “I met him the night before. I didn’t know he was scheduled to see me. We hit it off and as soon as we both realized he had an appointment, I marched him down to see you. I haven’t crossed any professional lines.”
“Good. I’m just looking out for you. Besides, I wouldn’t want to have to report you,” Kana said in a deadpan voice. But when Michelle stared at her without cracking a smile, Kana quickly added, “I’m kidding. I’m totally kidding,” then laughed to emphasize her point.
But Michelle didn’t reciprocate. Even though she knew she was 100 percent above board on that count, the notion that someone else might question her ethics sickened her.
* * *
She arrived early to the consulting group that afternoon, and snagged some one-on-one time with Carla, updating her on Shayla’s session, then Clark Davidson, then the photo from Lincoln Center.
Carla listened, and was quick to answer. “I don’t think we need to freak out, but this is a good reminder to be careful.”
She hadn’t expected that. She’d assumed Carla would reassure her. “What do you mean?”
“You’re dating a man who’s in the public eye. Who the press adores, and fawns over. That man also runs a sex toy company that is well known for supplying to BDSM clubs, and for better or for worse, some people find those clubs seedy. That’s just reality, and you can’t change that. That’s why you need to be more cautious than if you were dating a cop, or a teacher, or even the CEO of a dishwasher detergent company. Do you know what I mean?”
“Sure,” Michelle said with a crisp nod. Carla had always given her smart advice.
“He doesn’t have to worry about boundaries and public or private lives in the same way you do. You’re an intimate relationship therapist, and you have to be cautious, in the same way that a teacher or police officer would be. Society has certain expectations about different professions, and we’re in one of those professions where we have to be circumspect. The reality is there are bound to be speculations about your sex life now,” she said, giving new meaning to the word blunt.
“So that’s it? This is not an It’s Raining Men situation?”
Carla laughed. “No. But I’m not saying you shouldn’t date him. If you enjoy his company and he’s good to you, then by all means, have some fun. What I’m saying is be aware of these eagle eyes that can’t seem to stop looking at him, and now at you. For better or for worse, the man is a magnet for the cameras.”
Michelle nodded, agreeing with her mentor. “I don’t think I realized just how much. We started dating a few weeks ago, and no one noticed. No one cared. And now, in the last few days, Page Six has taken an avid interest. And it was so uncomfortable when my patient asked about him. She just kind of word-vomited up this whole thing about whether we used his sex toys. Talk about boundaries,” she said, shaking her head in frustration.
Carla gave her a sympathetic smile. “Look, you won’t be the first psychotherapist to deal with dating someone in the public eye. It’s not as if you’re forbidden from it. The key is to manage it properly. That’s why I said to be careful. You don’t want your patients or colleagues to start seeing you in a particular light, and seeing you only as this man’s lover. That won’t help. And if that keeps happening, I would have to stop referring patients to you.”
Michelle’s stomach dropped at that prospect. She valued Carla’s referrals dearly, as well as the chance she was giving her to lead the upcoming workshop. “I don’t want that to happen. I want to keep growing in my career.”
“I know,” Carla said matter-of-factly. “So let’s take steps now to protect your career. And as frustrating as it may be, you need to operate under the assumption that you’re dating a celebrity. And until it becomes serious, and you’re engaged or married—not that I’m saying that will happen,” Carla said, holding up a hand when Michelle’s eyes threatened to pop out of her head because clearly she and Jack were never getting married, let alone going to date beyond thirty days, “—you simply need to be chaste in public, but behind closed doors,” Carla said, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, even though it was only the two of them in her office, “feel free to have some fabulous sex.”