Sisters In Love (Snow Sisters, Book One: Love in Bloom Series)

Chapter Eleven, Sisters in Love

Chapter Eleven

Blake stood in front of Dr. Snow’s office door. He lifted his hand to knock, then realized he had no idea of the proper etiquette at a therapist’s office. What if right inside the door was her desk and a couch that he’d need to sit down on. Sit down? What if people really did lie down on the couch? What was typical? Normal? His chest constricted with discomfort.

He looked at the stairs behind him and thought about fleeing. She had his phone number. He could leave a message and say he was ill, or stand her up and miss the appointment. Juvenile. Sally had called earlier, and his heart had nearly broken through his chest, he’d been so nervous. He’d rushed off the phone, claiming he was busy, but the truth was that he didn’t even know how to act with her. Cheerful? Sad? Consolatory? He was an emotional idiot.

Blake knew that the first year after AcroSki's opening had been difficult for Sally. Their income hadn’t taken off until after they’d paid back the bank loan they’d taken to buy the store, but Sally had never complained. She’d supported Dave, even with the late evenings it took to get the store off the ground. She’d bring dinners for them when they worked late, and she’d always included Blake. He needed to do this. For Dave. For Sally. For himself.

Just as Blake reached for the knob, the door swung open. A short, wide-eyed, heavy man—looking as startled as Blake felt—stood before him. The man dropped his gaze to the floor.

“She’s all yours,” the man said, as he hurried past Blake.

Blake walked into the small reception area. Four chairs, two on each side of the room, separated by an antique coffee table, gave the room a homey feel. He stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind him. Blake looked over a wooden bookshelf filled with self-help books that sat against the far wall, wondering if he’d made a mistake. He sat down in one of the chairs. The room was eerily silent, save for a white noise machine. He crossed his ankle over the opposite knee, then dropped it to the floor. He checked his watch: 1:55. There was a door on the wall opposite the entrance. He stared at it. Dr. Snow is back there. What if she was really hot? Could he tell her about himself? What if she was hideously ugly? Would that make it easier? Or more difficult because she might feel bad about her own looks?

He looked back at the entrance door. Every fiber of his being willed him to rise and go out that door. Just go. Leave. This isn’t for you.

Danica set a fresh notepad and pen on the edge of her desk, then went to the door, smoothing her black pencil skirt and colorful blouse. She opened the door and walked out smiling, her typical welcome to new clients rolling off her lips.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Snow.” Her smile faded. Her heart pounded. It was him.

Blake laughed. “Well, this is awkward.”

Danica didn’t know what to say. She’d never had this issue before. Should she tell him she couldn’t help him? Why? he’d ask. She’d answer, Because I think you’re really hot. Because all I’ve thought about for the past twelve hours are your lips. Shit. She could do this. There was nothing between them. He needed help, and that was her job. Grow up.

“Nah, awkward? Come on in. We’ll talk.” She led him into the office, then realized she needed to give him an out, just in case he was feeling as uncomfortable as she was.

Blake sat in one of the leather chairs opposite the desk. Danica sat in the chair across from him. She never sat behind the desk when meeting with clients, she found it too much of a barrier. Though now, she wished she’d sat behind the desk. A barrier might be nice.