red hair and at nearly six-feet tall, her energy was like being in the presence of Athena or some other mythological goddess.
Immediately, I felt safe.
She bent down to my height and looked into my face. “Honey, as much as I love seeing you on these rare visits, you look like your dog died. What’s wrong?”
I wanted to cry and unload all my worries at her feet but, like usual, I kept it all in, not wanting to burden anyone, let alone let anyone glimpse my crazy.
“I’m fine. Just an off day.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Bad morning. It’s good to see you.” I set my bag down on the lone chair in front of her desk and turned away from her searching eyes.
“You need to take better care of yourself, Mia. When’s the last time you spoke to your dad?”
I shrugged. “Last week.”
Diane came around her desk and sat down, folding her hands and tucking them under her chin. Her lipstick was a dark fuchsia, and for the first time today I felt my creativity peek out. Already I could see that color on one of my models.
“Well, that’s good!” she said, nodding. “Sit down, girl. Talk to me. How’s work? And when are you going to do a show and let the city see how talented you are?”
I managed to laugh. “No shows. Work’s good. Why I’m here, in fact.” I pulled out my binder and opened the zippered partition that held my checkbook and bills. “Evan came down with the flu, so I had to come in. I’m working on something that won’t get out of my head, so I need someone like yesterday.” Smiling, I thought about my latest project. Art was the only thing that wiped away the dread, and I tried every day to feed my muse as much as I could.
“Uh huh. Don’t want to unload, as usual, I see.” Diane smiled sympathetically and reached out to grasp my hand. “You call me, night or day, if you need me, okay? I worry about you, kiddo.”
“I’m okay. Promise.” I truly believed my own lies sometimes. But I did believe in Diane’s support, no doubt of it. I squeezed her hand back before pulling away. “So, here’s this. Included is what I’m looking for.” I handed her the small, red envelope, just like the ones I had been giving her for the past few years.
“Thanks, hon. The girls at the House will appreciate it.” Diane put the envelope in her desk drawer.
“How is everything over there?” A big part of the safe house project was for sex workers wanting to get out of the business, and one I helped support monthly. It was one of Diane’s many side ventures. Being a child conceived from a prostitute, I held the project close to my heart as well. The only thing I had to offer, though, was money. Luckily, the man who adopted me was the best father any child could have asked for, making up for all my mom had been unable to do for me before she died and providing everything I needed from a large trust fund when my own income needed extra.
She sighed. “Not many stay long enough to trust us, sadly. But at least for a night or two we’re making a difference.”
I nodded toward her desk drawer, where she’d put the money. “Well, I hope that helps a bit.”
“Oh it sure does, honey. And I’ll let the girls know you’re hiring.”
“Well, I better go.” I swallowed, gearing up to walk out of here and back out there, leaving this little spot of safety. It was ironic how the finish line—home—was in reach just ten-minutes away but I had to summon all my mental weapons to take the first step. So I focused on that finish line until I could practically smell the comfort of my studio, hear the soft purr of my cat Mittens on my lap, taste the chamomile tea I’d drink from my favorite mug as soon as I got home.
I hugged Diane tight before leaving her office, promising again to visit and call, then I walked back into the café to pin my ad onto the bulletin board, all the while, the dread and panic that awaited me outside, out there in that looming void of a world filled with “too much,” stood on the outer banks of my mind, grinning like an evil fiend and sitting in wait for me.
Chapter Two
Devon
“You better