The Fallout (The Therapist #3) - W.S. Greer Page 0,16

schedule in action. Along with paperwork I’ll probably have to finish at home while I’m quarantined from Eli, I’ll have to make four scheduled home visits today. My goal is to make them all in the morning, and hope for the best. Along with the four I already have on my calendar, I need to schedule more for next week, and more means at least four a day, because my caseload has no room for procrastination.

I pick up my phone, doing my best to block out the sound of every other social worker’s phone calls, and dial up the number of my first case. She’s a mother of three, low income, and extremely nice, considering how hard her life must be. Her name is Liza Jenkins, and she answers on the third ring.

“Hello?” she says in a husky, sleepy voice.

“Hi, Liza. I’m sorry to wake you,” I say, hoping she can appreciate my smile through the phone. “It’s Demi Lane from Fresenuis. I was just calling to see if I could get you on the schedule for next week. We’re due for another home visit.”

Liza lets out a tired and annoyed sigh. “Yeah, okay, Demi. When did you have in mind?”

“I know, I’m so sorry for the inconvenience. Is Monday morning okay? Nine AM?”

Another exasperated sigh. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll be ready.”

“Great. Thanks so much, Liza. Sorry to bother you. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Yeah,” Liza barely manages to say before hanging up. I guess she wasn’t her usual, jovial self today.

“Hi, Demi,” I hear a voice call out for me as soon as I pull the phone from my ear. I whirl around to find Chris Bronson standing behind me. He’s decked in his usual white button-up shirt and black slacks, holding an Eagles coffee mug in his hand while he smiles from ear to ear.

“Oh. Hi, Chris,” I greet him with my own smile. “How are you doing this morning?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” Chris replies. “Hey, I was just wondering if you were going to make it to that meeting on the schedule for this afternoon? I think it’s at one.”

“Yeah, of course I’ll be there. Are you not going to make it? I can cover for you if you need me to.”

“Oh, no I’ll be there. I just wanted to see if you were going to be there so I can have someone cool to sit next to. You always spice up the monotony when we’re in there.”

I let out an unfamiliar giggle. “Oh, am I the cool kid in school now? You want to sit next to me because I undermine the supervisors by making jokes and talking when I’m not supposed to?”

Now Chris chuckles. “Yeah, that’s right. You make it all a little more lighthearted, plus you always smell so good. You're just nice to be next to, that’s all I’m saying.”

Chris pauses and there's an awkward silence between us, because I’m pretty sure Chris just threw some flirtation my way. He takes a moment to stare at me with a tiny, barely-noticeable smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, and when I recognize it, I frown.

“Anyway, umm,” Chris says before clearing his throat in that embarrassed way people do. “Yeah, umm, I guess I’ll see you in there then.”

“Yeah, sure. Okay.”

“Okay. Talk to you later, Demi.” Chris turns on his heel and speed walks away from my desk like there’s fire spewing from my cubicle.

Wow. It was subtle, but Chris definitely just flirted with me, and I don’t know how to feel. On one hand, Chris is a very attractive guy. He’s mixed with black and white, so he has that everlasting perfect tan to go along with curly hair and a killer smile. He takes more to his black side, so he dresses with a swagger and walks with a confidence that stands out in this office, and I know of a few other women in the bullpen who’d love to shove his hairless face between their legs.

On the other hand, Chris knows I’m married, just like everybody else in this office does. He met my husband at the Christmas party just three months ago. Does nobody care about the sanctity of marriage anymore? Is monogamy even real, or is it just a fucking free-for-all nowadays? Eli obviously thinks it is, otherwise he would’ve reserved himself for me and only me, no matter how big the tits of his newest secretary were, and no matter how many drinks they’d had. The whole world