CHAPTER 15

PERLA

I loved when Perla came to the office because she always brought me something. Something small, like a box of chocolates or a candle. Once, she brought me a pot of tulips. No one ever even notices me at the desk, so that tells you something about her right there, and how nice she was.

—Gloria Richards, receptionist to Dr. Maddox

"Scares you?" Dr. Maddox moved to the edge of her seat, a dumb fish on the hook, and I pinned my lips together to keep from smiling. "In what way?"

Yes, Perla, in what way? I had to be careful here. Once I said something, it would instantly be set in concrete. Destined for the court testimony and the pages of her future book. Any response would be a step down a path I couldn't backpedal from without raising suspicion.

"It's like there are two sides of him. He's a good man—a great husband, most of the time. I could tell you ..." I looked up to the ceiling, blinking rapidly as if to keep from crying. "I could tell you so many stories, so many moments where he did something that just touched my heart."

"Can you give me an example?" she asked. This woman had way too much patience. If it had been me, I would have brushed right over the my husband is wonderful dribble and cut right to the chase—his other side. Instead, she was all big ears and captive eyes, waiting for me to come up with an example.

That was no problem. I had dozens. "Well, when we first moved in together, we were in a tiny apartment—this was before I got my trust fund and before he had really started earning any significant income—and we were tight on money."

Really tight on money. When my credit card had maxed out, I had called George, crying, and he had refused to send me anything. Now I realize he was trying to teach me money management, but back then, I had seen it as stubborn cruelty. He had plenty of money; I needed it, so he needed to give it to me.

"I got my period, and it was the first time that Grant had seen that ... experience. I was in so much pain. My cramps were really fierce back then, and I was in bed, sweating and moaning and thrashing ..." I laughed at the memory. "God, I was such a wimp. Anyway, Grant didn't know what to do. My discomfort was a problem that he didn't have the answer to, and didn't have the data needed to find the answer. He ran out the door and came back twenty minutes later with bags of stuff. I think he bought every single product in the feminine-care aisle. And he did not have the money for that. He didn't have any money to spare, but he spent, literally, his few last dollars trying to buy something that would give me some relief." I let out a small laugh. "He's still like that when I get my cycle each month. He brings me things, pampers me. Still worries over me. Honestly, I always pretend that it lasts a day or two longer than it does just so I can soak up that attention."

I glanced at her and flinched at the smile splitting her face in two. Her hands were holding the notepad with a white-knuckled grip. She'd probably never been spoiled by a man. Most women hadn't. Most women took the shit they were given and didn't expect or demand anything more.

"Oh, how sweet," she gushed, and she was right. Grant was very, very sweet. But "sweet" had never gotten anyone's panties wet.

"So anyway ..." I pulled at the hem of my skirt, making sure it fully covered my knees. "That's the one side of Grant."

She waited, her pen still stubbornly tucked into the ring of her notebook. I didn't know how she expected to remember all this. I glanced around, looking for cameras. "Are you recording this?"

"Oh, no. I don't record any sessions. I find my patients are more comfortable if they don't feel like they're being spied on."

"So you don't have any cameras in here at all?" I pressed.

"Not a one." She gave a merry shrug, as if that were something to be proud of. It was idiotic, that's what it was. She should have one for security's sake, if nothing else. Especially with these rows of notebooks just sitting out, full of people's secrets. "Should we continue?"

I pushed my opinions to the side. So what if she had lax security protocols? I wanted everyone to know what I talked about in these sessions. Not right now, but later ... The notes from this session would be gold to the public. Gold that could be exploited in a number of ways.

I glanced at my watch, fiddling with the silver band and adjusting it on my wrist. "Well, the other side of Grant isn't as ... sweet." I grimaced. "You have to understand that he's an extremely focused individual. When he zeroes in on something, he can obsess over it. And there are certain things, especially from his past, that he does that with. Lately, he's begun to do it with Sophie."

"Wait—" She held up her hand in the same way a crossing guard would. "What's an example of something in the past that he obsessed over?"

This example, I had at the ready. While it wasn't the best, it—if ever shared with police—could lead them down a treasure trove of rabbit holes and Easter eggs on Grant. "Well, there was a man I used to work with. He did maintenance on one of our complexes." I smoothed the line of my skirt down again, watching out of the corner of my eye to see if the shrink picked up on the nervous tic.

She didn't. I continued on.

"Grant and I were at dinner, and we ran into him. Just briefly. We passed on the sidewalk, and I introduced the two of them; then we went home. I didn't think anything else about it."

The psychiatrist was now perched on the edge of her seat. I imagined her falling forward, her large breasts bouncing against the coffee table, her hands not quick enough, her cheekbone smashing into the glass.

"Well, Grant got it in his head that the man was attracted to me. He started to go into my office late at night and review the man's company phone records and cross-check them with mine. He started driving by the man's house each night, to see if he was home. He created false online personas and flirted with him through those, in an attempt to find out if he was single. He posed as bill collectors and called his ex-girlfriends, his relatives, his friends."

I looked out the window of her office, watching as a dark-colored sedan passed on the street outside. "The employee came to me, and I confronted Grant, and it led to one of the worst nights of my life."

"Did Grant get violent with you?"

I shook my head. "That's not what this is about. It's not that Grant has a temper. It's about how he can't stand to not have the solution to a problem. Grant saw a problem: a handsome employee who was attracted to me. He could have just proposed a solution, like firing the man. He didn't. Instead, he created his own solution, and it was a horrible one, for all parties involved."

I waited for her to ask what that solution was, prepped to deliver a big hem-and-haw routine before I told her the story, but instead she took a different, boring path.

"Where is the man now? Are you still in communication with him?"

"No. I don't know what he did after he left the apartment complex. He quit in the midst of all of it. Quit and just left." I shrugged. "Problem solved."

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth. Frank hadn't quit, but the problem had been solved. More by me but in part by Grant.

I looked at my watch and winced. "I'm sorry. I have to get across town for another appointment." I stood and adjusted the tuck of my turtleneck into my skirt. "Thank you for listening."

She rose and placed her notebook down on the table. I glanced at it; the page was practically empty. So this was what people paid for ... an hour of someone paying attention to them. What garbage. She hadn't unlocked any of my feelings or fixed any of my problems. She'd just sat there and asked dumb questions.

She extended her hand and I shook it. She had one of those weak half shakes, the kind where our grips didn't fully connect and you felt like she was slipping out. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Perla. Is it all right if I call you Perla?"

"Of course. I'll see you next week, same time?"

"It's a date!" She smiled brightly, like a circus clown.

Out of everything, this part of the plan would be the easiest.