No One Else: The Ladies Who Brunch Book 2, page 4
“Of course. Everything will be okay.”
“I’m just really mad at Penelope right now for being so blunt.”
“That’s valid. But when you’re done being mad, make sure you two talk. Tell her how she made you feel. It will make you feel better and help you process why you got angry with one another.”
“Man, what do other people who don’t have therapists as friends do in crises like these?”
“Live the same way you do. Just because I’m a therapist doesn’t mean everyone listens to me.”
That makes her laugh. “Well, I think they should.”
“I do too. But hey…I get paid either way.”
Chapter 3
Amelia
Two Weeks Later
The last two weeks have been a whirlwind. The rest of the trip to Hawaii did not go well, except for the fact that Penelope and Charlotte made up a day later and apologized for snapping at one another. But that was the only good part.
Charlotte reached her breaking point during her parents’ reception, going off on her mom and Damien’s dad while revealing they were in a fake relationship. Someone recorded the entire thing and posted it on social media. Luckily for her, the feedback was actually positive when people related to what she was going through, but then she fought herself for the last two weeks over how to move on in her life, ultimately admitting that she’s in love with Damien, which we already knew. Tonight she’s supposed to meet up with him to apologize, so I made sure to send her a good luck text as soon as my last client left for the day.
Things are starting to go back to normal—at least as normal as they were before Ethan moved into the office across the courtyard. A part of me is wondering how long this little avoidance act I’ve been doing will last before I have to face the fact that the man opened his practice right next to me, completely negating what I’m trying to accomplish in my line of work.
I've made it my mission to dodge him as much as possible in the past two weeks, which wasn’t too hard between my trip to Hawaii and then getting back to work. He also seemed to be MIA last week for the Fourth of July, making it even easier to avoid him. I heard him laughing with a client outside of his office a few nights this week, in which I spied on him from behind the curtain on my office door. But other than that, we haven’t really crossed paths and I’m hoping that our interactions remain like this—limited or barely existent.
Now, it’s a Friday night, and my last client left about an hour ago. Penelope, who works in P.R., didn’t have any fancy restaurant or club opening for us to go to. So it’s a rare evening when I can relax at home, enjoy the sunset on my patio with a mojito in my hand, probably go for a swim in my pool, and relish in the beautiful summer evening on this warm July night.
Sometimes those nights when I get to enjoy my own company are some of my favorite and the most peaceful.
After my last client leaves for the day, I like to unwind and finish up paperwork by putting music on in the background. As I take off my jacket and move to hang it on the hook behind my desk, “Hello” by Adele begins playing from my Bluetooth speaker, so I immediately start singing along. One of my secret fantasies is to be a famous singer. Even though that is not even close to how I want my life to end up, when a song comes on that I know I can belt out flawlessly, I do and pretend I’m performing at the Grammys after winning Best New Artist.
What can I say? We all have our unrealistic dreams, am I right?
I nail the first three words of the famous song, aiming to hit every note flawlessly as it continues to play.
“Hello?” I hear come from behind, making me jump.
“Ah!” Reaching forward, I press pause on my speaker and then look over my shoulder to find the last person I anticipated. “Ethan? What are you doing here?”
“Was that you singing?” he asks, ignoring my question.
“Um, yes.” I can instantly feel my cheeks heat up, so I turn my face away from him. “You scared the crap out of me. How long were you listening?”
“Long enough to know that you shouldn’t quit your day job.”
Annoyance begins to build in my veins. “Well, I never asked for your opinion, so it’s completely unwarranted.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I twist to face him head-on. “Can I help you? Or were you just looking for some entertainment on your Friday night? If that’s the case, there’s a strip club down the street where I’m sure you could pick up plenty of married men looking to leave their wives instead of working on their problems.”
Ethan’s smile builds as he assesses me. “That’s not a bad idea, actually, so thanks.” His eyes move around the room, judging every inch of my office. “Your office looks like the inside of a house.”
“Thank you. That’s what I was going for.”
“That wasn’t a compliment,” he says over his shoulder as he looks at the artwork on the walls.
“Again, is there a reason why you’re here?”
“Haven’t seen you in a while. Have you been avoiding me?”
“I didn’t realize that it was required of us to cross paths.”
He grins. “It’s not, but I’ve also seen you run in the other direction once you see me across the courtyard, so I thought I’d come investigate for myself.”
“Your detective skills are subpar then since there’s nothing for you to discover. And not that I need to explain myself, but I’m a fast walker by nature. I pride myself on being efficient in multiple aspects of my life.”
“Hmmm,” he hums. “So sex with you must be on a schedule then, huh?”
My jaw drops open. “What?”
“I’m sure you have it penciled in your calendar too.” He changes the octave of his voice. “Sex on Thursday at eight-thirty sharp. Five minutes for foreplay, ten minutes for penetration, and if my orgasm doesn’t arrive within that fifteen minutes, then my boyfriend can finish, and I’ll just roll over and go to sleep so it doesn’t take time from that.”
Seething, I can feel my nostrils flare as I stalk across the room to him. “You have a lot of nerve coming in here, judging my space, insinuating that you know me at all.”
“You probably love the missionary position too, huh, Dr. St. Clair? It must be hard to convince people that sex can save their marriage when you don’t even know how to have fun in the bedroom yourself.”
I clench my teeth, seconds away from smacking him. But the way his eyes are bouncing back and forth between mine makes me think that perhaps he wants me to. He’s looking for a reaction from me, and even though part of me wants nothing more than to put him in his place, I am a professional and will not give him that satisfaction. So instead, I pull a therapist move on him.
Calmly, I roll my shoulders back and take a few steps toward him. Reaching down, I pick up one of my business cards off the table by the entryway and hold it out to him.
“What is this?”
“What does it look like? It’s my business card. Should you prefer to discuss your needs to ridicule my love life or contemplate just exactly how I behave in bed, I would prefer to do so in a setting where we can discuss just exactly why it is that you feel the need to wonder about those things in the first place.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. And then, at least that way, if I have to listen to your asshole remarks, I’ll be handsomely paid while doing so.” I flash him a tight-lipped smile, and all he does is grin back at me in return.
“I’m impressed, Amelia. Perhaps you’re a little tougher than I pegged you to be.”
“You can think whatever you’d like about me, Mr. Fuller. But until you can approach me respectfully, I would appreciate you staying the hell out of my office.”
With a curt nod, he heads for the door. “Just promise me one thing, Amelia?” I don’t entertain his question with a response. “When your clients realize that trying to save a troubled marriage is pointless, please point them in my direction across the hall. I can leave a map for them if need be.”
“That won’t be necessary. But if your clients ever feel the need to process what a disgusting human being their divorce attorney is, I would be more than glad to offer them my services to deal with trauma as well.”
He laughs and then opens the door. “Have a good weekend, Amelia. You’re going to need it.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I watch him walk out of my office, wondering what he meant by his final words. However, I don’t dwell on it for too long, immediately moving to the door to lock it after him. Releasing the breath I was holding, I hold my hand out in front of me to assess how badly I’m shaking.
That man is an ass and an arrogant prick. After his idle promise, I’m wondering if I haven’t seen the worst of him. The thing that irritates me more than anything, though, is that he’s so damn attractive, my mind and my body are at war over what to do with him. Perhaps only time will tell what will be the best way to handle Ethan Fuller.
“Well, well, well. Look who’s decided to join us looking freshly fucked and happier than a Cleveland Browns fan that’s just been told their team is actually going to the Super Bowl.” Penelope smirks up at Charlotte as she finally joins us at brunch, fashionably late.
It’s a Sunday in the middle of July, and the weekly brunches I have with my three best friends have finally reconvened. The past few weeks have been insane, but I’m so excited to have the opportunity to share my good news and unfortunate circumstances with my girls. Venting with your girlfriends is its own special kind of therapy.
“You know I don’t care about football, so that comment doesn’t mean much to me. But the rest of what you said is true.” With a pleased smile on her face, Charlotte reaches for her mimosa and leans back in her chair. Her dark hair is down in waves around her shoulders, and her smile is blinding.
“Shame you don’t follow football, ladies. All that testosterone, muscular men in tight, shiny pants, grunting and yelling, and all that adrenaline you know they have to burn off somewhere…” Penelope trails off, licking her lips.
“Yeah, I think you have a problem,” Charlotte mumbles before turning her attention to Noelle and me, smiling from ear to ear again.
“I take it your makeup with Damien went well?” Noelle prods further.
Her lips spread wider as happiness exudes from her. “Yes. Everything is good. We are happy, in love, and giving our relationship a real shot.” She sighs wistfully. “I found my person, you guys, and only made a million mistakes to get there.”
Charlotte reconciled with Damien Friday night as she planned, and we all knew that the vibe of today’s brunch was going to depend on how that night went.
Noelle reaches across the table, grasping her hand. “Then it was worth it. And we are so happy for you, Charlotte.”
“Thank you.” Charlotte twists her head, looking around Frankie’s Diner, the restaurant we go to for brunch each Sunday in a quaint neighborhood in Los Angeles. As soon as you step in the door, your eyes are hit with the nostalgic look that most diners from the 1950s have—teal booths, black and white checkered flooring, chrome details, and pops of red here and there. Frankie’s Diner serves up classic American cuisine and bottomless mimosas too, which we always take full advantage of. “God, how long has it been since we’ve done brunch?”
“Almost three weeks,” I answer her. “Between your parents’ anniversary celebration in Hawaii, the Fourth of July, and the past few weeks when you’ve been wallowing without Damien, it’s been a while.”
“Well, there will be no more wallowing,” she says. “So what has everyone been up to while I was ruminating in my pit of despair?”
“Just work mostly. Spent some time with my parents over the Fourth,” Noelle answers. “Avoided looking online for another date since I know nothing would come of it anyway. Read a few romance novels looking for my next book boyfriend since I can’t find one in real life.”
I guess after reading about fictional happily ever afters for a living, you become obsessed with finding your own. Out of all of us, she’s the one that wants to find her soul mate and have a family more than anything.
“I have several events coming up in the next month and a half, so I’ve been swamped as well,” Penelope adds. “And I’ll let you know the dates of events that you bitches can attend before we leave. But I did manage to tan a bit yesterday, which was heavenly.”
Penelope works for Edelman PR company, handling everything from businesses to celebrities since she works at the office based in L.A. I’m not even sure how she keeps track of everything and everyone she’s involved with, but the woman is good at her job and always brings us along to take advantage of the perks.
“Nice. Damien and I spent all day inside yesterday.” Charlotte grins over the rim of her glass.
“I don’t think you need to elaborate on what you were doing,” Penelope chides.
“Hey, I’m going to live in my blissful bubble right now until I have to go back to reality tomorrow at the magazine.” Charlotte works as the senior advertising executive for Revision Magazine, one of the most profitable women’s magazines in the country. “What about you, Amelia?”
I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath, eager to share my news. “Well, I have officially been operating out of my new office for two weeks, girls, and it’s perfect. My clients are happy with the setup, and I love having a separate space for work now. And yesterday, I received a phone call from the Los Angeles Times. I’ve been nominated for the Best of Los Angeles Award for Best Marriage Counselor.”
“What?” they shout in unison.
“Amelia, that’s amazing!” Charlotte declares. “We need to refill our mimosas and toast to that, for sure.”
“How does that happen?” Noelle asks as she passes our glasses to Charlotte, who tops them off.
“It’s all based on nominations, so that means that former clients must have filled out the survey.”
“I might have seen your name on the list and emailed it out to everyone that I know, too,” Penelope adds, giving me a wink across the table.
“Penelope! I haven’t treated all of those people though.”
She bats her hand at me. “Doesn’t matter. I know that you take your job very seriously and deserve this honor, and this will help get your name out there even more, Amelia. You deserve this.”
Noelle nods. “I agree. This will be great for business.”
I can’t hold back my smile. “Thank you, Pen. That really means a lot.”
Specializing in female empowerment and sexual awakening, I’ve made it my mission to work with women looking for ways to learn about their bodies and what makes them happy in their sex lives, both with and without partners. However, in the past few years, my practice has gravitated more toward helping couples as a marriage and sex therapist, focusing on their physical and emotional relationships.
I’ve also partnered with a few companies I endorse that make sex toys. My clients can purchase them directly from me to aid them along their journey. Overall, I’d say I’ve used my sexual psychology degree and minor in business quite well since I graduated early from college. However, it always still shocks people when they learn how I make my living given how I can be perceived as the shy, quiet type.
Penelope raises her glass, and we all follow her cue. “To Amelia. To running a successful practice, being your own boss, and being the best of the best!”
“Hear, hear!” We clink our glasses together, and each take a sip of our mimosas.
“So when can we see your office? I know we didn’t get a chance before Hawaii, and well afterward…” Charlotte shrugs, knowing how out of the loop we’ve all been with each other over the past few weeks.
“Well, how about after we’re done here? It’s not too far, and I did bring the keys with me,” I say as I dig them out of my purse and jingle them in the air.
“Yes! That sounds perfect.” Noelle looks to the other girls.
“I don’t have any other plans today, so that works for me,” Penelope agrees.
Charlotte nods. “I guess Damien can wait another hour or so to fuck me again.”
Noelle smirks before she takes another sip of her drink. “Glad to know that you feel comfortable sharing that information with us.”
Charlotte narrows her eyes at Noelle. “Like we’ve ever kept secrets from each other. I mean, if you can’t discuss those types of things with your girlfriends and be candid about sex, then what’s the point?”
Penelope nods. “Charlotte is right. So why don’t I tell you guys about the guy I banged last night…”
Noelle holds her hand up. “Frankie! We’re going to need more champagne!” Frankie acknowledges her from across the restaurant, beaming as he grabs us another bottle. “I especially need another drink if I’m going to have to listen to all of you discuss your sex lives while I’m not getting any.”
“Hey, it’s been a while for me too,” I tell her, rubbing her arm for comfort.
“It happens. Lord knows I had cobwebs growing down there before Damien came around,” Charlotte adds.
We all stare at Penelope. “Are you guys done wallowing so I can tell you my story now?”
Noelle rolls her eyes, I chuckle, and Charlotte urges her to continue. “Oh, please…tell us everything.”
“All right. So this guy approached me at this event, and I swear, the outline of his dick in his pants was halfway down his thigh…”
“Oh my God, it’s like walking up to someone’s home,” Noelle squeals as we approach the door of my office. “You even have flowers outside and…are those gnomes?”
I chuckle. “Yes. I saw them at the store and thought they were too cute. I had to have them and even bought a set for my house. I just wanted the front to feel welcoming because the idea of going to therapy can be daunting for some people.”
“Well, you have definitely achieved that. Hell, I might just come by here to hang out since I’m digging the vibe so much.”
