Vicariously Yours,

Analyzing Yours Truly

He is here.

Man of mystery is here.

And up close, he was poignantly looking like a sexy bad villain. He would put Johnny Sins to shame and Isabella knows only Johnny Sins and Pitbull are to be the only men who can walk on the face of Earth with that bald look like a couple of swaggering badasses.

The effort it took not to shake her mild irritation when he called her baby doll in that droll voice was difficult. She had sensed a hint of an accent earlier and now with his name, she figured he was Italian. Or part Italian.

"I saw you that day."

She maintained her posture as she sat down onto her custom made black arm chair. Why is he bringing up that now?

He walked around her office, taking in the details. The dark blue with coral stencil lit the walls around the them. At one end of the room was a wall made of a huge glass window that overlooked the street outside. It's curtains were roped at its two sides. In middle of the room was a thick black carpet with her arm chair positioned slightly diagonal to the huge black sofa a few feet away.

A glass round table stood between the two furniture with a flask of water along with cylinder glassware to drink from. At her side, a small table filled with a rectangular cream colored box of tea bags of chamomile laid along side with a kettle of hot water and two cups.

He made himself comfortable as he sank into the black leather sofa, his legs stretched out.

The scent of sandalwood emerging from him. When he had passed by her before, she had only got a hint of it. Now, it was like someone planted her in front of sandalwood tres.

When he stared at her, she saw the toxic topaz colored eyes. They were bright and brilliant but a inkling of depth marked his eyes. His head was round and shiny as always. Among the thick brown beard, his lips peeking out.

She made a quick over look at his outfit. His orange neon shoes highlighting in his entire black outfit. He wore a black hoodie and black joggers.

"Mr.DeVille-"

"It's Marcelo, baby doll."

She clicked her tongue inside her mouth. "I suggest you call me Dr.Isabella."

"But aren't I supposed be at ease while talking to you? And I know I'm not comfortable calling you that."

"Of course, I understand. But there are certain-"

"Pish-Posh. You ignored my statement earlier. We met that night, at the sushi place."

"What of it?"

"Isn't that going to be a problem?" He gestured a hand between them as if they had done more than whatever little happened that night.

Even if her stomach dipped, she straightened. "I can suggest another therapist for you. Would you-"

"Nope. I want you."

She silently asked for patience. First of, this man kept interrupting her and secondly, his weird blunt words. It's too...weird.

Ignoring his last statement, she continued. "So how are you feeling, Marcelo?"

His name slipped from her tongue easily making Marcelo watch her with acute attention. "How am I feeling? Hmm...right now, I feel curiosity."

"Okay. Curious about what?"

"Not what. Who. Curious about who should be your question. And I'm curious about you."

She didn't answer him. Simply wrote down with her ink black pen irritated for some reason unto her note pad.

When she didn't offer any words, he nodded his head as if understanding the game. "So that's how it is? You don't talk and I yap. No wonder my fiancé talked me into this. You want me to open my feelings and all-" He paused, giving her a certain condescending look. "-Men don't do that."