Free Rock My Body (Black Falcon #4) by Michelle A. Valentine

person—someone my parents will be proud to call their daughter again. They haven’t really spoken to me much since Annie died. It’s like the good daughter is gone and now they’re stuck with me—someone who’s exactly the opposite of their ideal daughter.
    After a quick shower, I decide to wear a blouse that reveals no cleavage whatsoever and a pair of Capri pants. Even though the memory of Tyke’s eyes roaming down my body, staring longer than necessary at my chest, causes my belly to tingle, I can’t allow that to keep happening. So, from now on, I’ll only wear the most conservative outfits I brought. There’s no sense in putting myself in a vulnerable position. That’s part of the twelve steps we teach all recovering addicts. No matter what they are struggling with, avoid putting yourself in situations where you might be tempted to fall back into old patterns.
    After I double-check my appearance in the mirror, I head to the main house for dinner. So far, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed having dinner with the clients. It’s given me an opportunity to observe their behaviors and get to know them before I start my first official day of counseling with them tomorrow.
    This morning after breakfast, I met with Wayne in his office. He explained that they now have more clients than they’ve ever had at the facility, and he no longer has enough time to counsel all of them on his own.
    That’s where I come in.
    We went over the files of all the existing clients here at Serenity and discussed their treatment plans. Wayne is giving me a lot of responsibility already, telling me that I’ll be leading some group sessions, as well as giving me a few additional files for the one-on-one sessions I’ll be taking over.
    I’m excited for this opportunity. It’s a test, I’m sure—to see how well I’ll do here before he gives me a full caseload. I’m ready to prove, not only to him, that I can do this, but to myself, too.
    The moment I step up through the back door of the main house, I’m hit with the delicious aroma of dinner. I inhale the tangy-sweet smell into my nose, and my mouth instantly begins to water.
    Sue stands over the stove stirring something in a big pot as I pass by. “Wow, Sue, that smells amazing. What is it?”
    She turns to me and smiles. “It’s ham covered in honey and brown sugar glaze, topped with pineapple.”
    “I can’t wait to try it. I’m going to get so fat working here. I’ve never been fed this well,” I tease her.
    She chuckles. “A little bit of meat on a woman has never killed anyone.”
    I lean against the counter and watch as she dumps the gravy from a pot into a few serving boats sitting on a metal tray. “How long have you worked here, Sue?”
    She scrapes the rest of the steamy liquid into the last boat and twists her lips. “Since it opened, which has been about ten years now.”
    I step around the counter and begin helping her load the serving cart. “Any pointers you can give me? Anything I should know in order to keep my job here?”
    She sets the last of the salads onto the cart. “It’s really a pretty nice place to work. Dr. Shepherd and Timothy tend to have the roughest job detoxing the clients when they first come in. The rest of us get to be more friendly with the clients—some a little too friendly, if you know what I mean.”
    I laugh and the memory of first meeting with the clients pop into mind, and the handsome activities director who seemed a little too friendly with our resident pop singer. “You mean Randall?”
    Sue nods. “You’ve been here one day and have already picked up on it. You’re going to do all right here, Mrs. Mead.”
    “Please, call me Frannie, Sue. Mrs. Mead is my mother, and I am most definitely not married,” I say, earning a laugh from her. “Has he ever...”
    I try to stop myself from digging into someone else’s business, but the beginning of my thought is already out there and there’s no taking it back.
    “Messed