Love Resolution - By Michelle Mankin Page 0,65

on the phone keeping Justin and your dad up to date. And even though Mary seems mad as hell on the outside, I can tell that she’s mainly just worried about you.”

“I hope you’re right.” She grimaced. “I’m not looking forward to talking to her, but thanks for the encouragement and the heads up. I’m lucky to have you as a friend.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it. I believe we were put together for a reason. And,” she patted Avery’s knee and beamed, “now that you’ve got me, you’ll never be able to get rid of me. I’m kinda like a grass burr stuck to your shoelaces. Ask my sister.”

“I’m glad. I could use a little stability in my life.” She squared her shoulders. “Ok, before I start making phone calls, I need you to find out one more thing.”

“Yes, I thought about it,” Marcus answered, shifting uneasily on the colorful couch. He ran a hand through his still wet hair, a result of his session with his other therapist, the treadmill.

The psychiatrist lifted a quizzical brow.

Unflinching, he returned her gaze, his eyes steely. “Maybe I have some self-worth issues.”

“Ok. So why do you think that’s the case?”

“I don’t know.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “Shouldn’t you tell me? Isn’t that why Mary’s paying you the big bucks?”

“Actually, you’re paying,” she reminded him, folding her hands lightly in her lap.

“I’m a lot like my mom, I guess.” He stood and paced up and down the length of the suite several times, brow furrowed. “We both live and breathe work. As a result our…my sense of identity is very tightly woven together with what I do. When I’m doing well professionally, when I feel in control of the process, then things are fine. But when I’m in a situation I can’t control or faced with a lot of negativity, I take it real personally. I decompensate. Like in Seattle when everything went to shit.”

“Marcus, no one can be in control one hundred percent of the time.” She finished typing. “What we have to do is develop coping strategies for those other circumstances. Fortunately, you have many resources to call upon. Your family and your fiancée come to mind.”

“I don’t have a fiancée.” His lips turned down. He reached a hand down into his jean pocket and fingered the ring. “Not anymore.”

“Oh?”

He dropped back down on the couch, opposite the rattan chair she sat in and put his head in his hands. After a moment, he glanced up and met her gaze. “I really fucked up,” he admitted.

“Ah, yes, the woman who’s been on all the entertainment shows.” She glanced down at her computer. “I’m sad to admit that even I watch those things.”

“For the record, I didn’t sleep with her” he clarified, voice laden with self-reproach. “I just wanted Avery to think that I did.”

“It seems to me that you are way too focused on your shortcomings. Although, it’s noble to set high personal standards, the trouble comes when you continually punish yourself for not living up to them.” She met his eyes. “Marcus, you’re a perfectionist, but no one is perfect. You can’t define yourself by your flaws. We need to retrain the way you think about yourself. I want you to focus on the good things that make you the man you are, and when I see you tomorrow we’ll go over those, alright?”

“Be a real short list,” he muttered as he walked her out of his hotel room.

“Where’s Avery?” Marcus demanded, finally cornering Sam near the melting ice sculpture. He’d been trying to get a word with her the entire evening. “The damn event’s almost over.”

“On her way to Phoenix,” she answered, glancing down at her watch. “Probably almost there by now.”

“The hell she is.” His eyes narrowed. “She’s on the Tempest bus, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” she said distractedly, returning the wave of one of the departing VIP’s. “Thanks for coming, Mr. Yanamoto.”

“And you let her?” Marcus growled.

“Um, yeah.” Her chestnut brows lifted and she leaned toward him. “She needed some space. I don’t blame her. Can you?”

“That’s irrelevant.” He frowned. “I think it’s a real bad plan for her to go hang out on a tour bus for fifteen hours with a bunch of guys like them.” His jaw hardened. “Last time I checked, Avery’s a member of Brutal Strength, not Tempest. And I’m pretty sure she’s bound by legal jargon to travel with us.” He let out a long breath. “Trevor,” he called, making eye