a success, Miss Newberry?”
“Of course,” Tanyalee said, crossing her legs strategically and noting with some satisfaction that even the nerdy Temple Smathers couldn’t help but sneak a peek. She’d selected an above-the-knee pencil skirt for just this effect. “I learned a lot about the root causes of my various character flaws. I think I have a handle on how to make better choices for myself in the future.”
He nodded slowly and pursed his lips. “You successfully completed three programs out there, under the clinical supervision of your therapist, a doctor…” He looked back to the file.
“Dr. Leslie Buchman,” Tanyalee offered cheerfully. “She oversaw my progress with everything—codependency, compulsive spending, and, you know, love addiction.”
“Let’s not forget shoplifting and forgery.”
Tanyalee shifted in her chair. “Those things were addressed in the compulsive spending program, Mr. Smathers. I know myself much better now.”
He didn’t look all that impressed with her accomplishments, and pressed ahead. “Prior to your discharge, Dr. Buchman placed a conference call to the assistant prosecutor and me.” When he frowned, his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose. “I hope you realize how lucky you are that your grandfather is so forgiving. Not only did you avoid incarceration, but his willingness to pay for in-patient treatment has cut your probation in half. Mr. Newberry’s standing in this community has made all the difference.”
Tanyalee frowned. “Of course I know that, Mr. Smathers. Granddaddy Garland is a wonderful man, and I’ve thanked him many times for everything he’s done for me.”
Smathers sighed, glancing at the file again. “Dr. Buchman has recommended you perform two hundred hours of community service now that you’re back in Bigler.”
Tanyalee tried her very best not to roll her eyes. “I’m aware of that. Dr. Leslie said it would improve my ability to empathize with those less fortunate. She says I need to ‘get out of my own head.’ That’s one of her favorite expressions.”
“Do you think she’s right?”
Tanyalee shrugged, tossing her hair over a shoulder. Temple’s eyes followed her every move. “She’s the expert.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“Of course not!”
“And where would you like to volunteer?”
“I was thinking maybe I’d enjoy working with old people. They’re so sweet! Or underprivileged children or homeless pets or something.”
“Gotcha.” Mr. Smathers pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose. “Dr. Buchman also recommends you attend several twelve-step meetings a week, ideally Codependents Anonymous, Debtors Anonymous, and Love Addicts Anonymous.”
“Yes, I know.”
“You’re willing to do that, even if it means traveling to Asheville or maybe Winston-Salem to get to a meeting?”
“Well, of course I’m willing! I am committed to my recovery.”
“Good to hear.” He returned his attention to the paperwork.
Tanyalee suppressed a yawn. If this little meet-and-greet got any more exciting she’d have to breathe into a brown paper bag to keep from hyperventilating. And just like that—without a bit of warning—her mind wandered off …
Dan Carnes.
Heavy breathing.
This was becoming a real problem. Every night for a week now, Tanyalee’s dreams had been filled with nothing but D-a-n and s-e-x, and apparently, the flashbacks were starting to spill into her daytime hours as well. She really thought she’d gotten all this nonsense out of her system on the Greyhound bus ride from Raleigh-Durham International Airport to Bigler. The whole four hours was nothing but a blow-by-blow recollection of every single little thing she’d done to Dan’s body and he’d done to hers, between the hours of eleven P.M. and seven A.M. Tanyalee remembered staring out the bus window, aware that she was intentionally reliving every detail of that wild night. Almost like she needed to commit it to memory and then lock it away. Forever.
She remembered every little thing about their night together—how his skin smelled like the mountains after a hard summer rain. The solid feel of his carved muscles. The way his tongue slid into her and demanded she open for him, like there was no point in her trying to deny him. Open her lips. Her legs. Her deepest desires …
Tanyalee made a small whimpering sound and adjusted her skirt. Maybe that brown paper bag hadn’t been such a bad idea.
Her probation officer peeked over his glasses. “You all right, Miss Newberry?”
“Of course!”
He leaned back in his creaky old office chair and steepled his fingers beneath his chin, looking her over like she was some kind of mental patient.
Well, I never!
“You’re going to continue living with your great-aunt and grandfather, is that correct?”
Oh, Lord, but she wished that weren’t a true statement, since Aunt Viv was already