Free Void by Cassy Roop

man Patterson, since the contract requires to be with no other clients for the duration of the twelve weeks.”
    Why did this man have a desire to keep me to himself? The thought though, made me shiver as the familiar electric pulses invaded me, like it did every time I thought about him. I wished I knew his name. I wished I could see his face. He was probably some old ogre who would have me running in the other direction.
    Who the fuck was I kidding? The man was probably gorgeous beyond all knowledge. One of those reclusive CEO men, who hid their insecurities behind walls of mansions and millions of dollars. I found myself going over the possibilities, each scenario playing like a silent movie before me, but each one resulting in me coming undone beneath him as Sinclaire guided and watched.
    “So?” Lexie asked, interrupting my thoughts.
    “So…”
    “Are you going to take the job?” She slid the stack of papers over to me. I didn’t have to ask her what they were. I already knew.
    I picked them up and the pen that Lexie handed me. I glanced over it briefly before I scrolled down to the bottom of the last page and noticed a signature at the bottom, but it was too messy to make out an actual name.
    “He already signed it?”
    “Yeah,” Lexie replied as she slipped her electric cigarette back into the top drawer of her desk. She pulled out an envelope and handed it over to me. I took it, and looked at her with curiosity.
    “This is the first session’s payment. In advance. He said as soon as you sign, it’s yours.”
    I clicked the top of the pen, and without a second thought I signed my name to the bottom of the contract and placed the pen down on top of the stack of papers. Lexie handed me the envelope where I expected to open it and find a check. Instead, it was cash.
    “Have you talked to him?”
    “The client?” She asked and I nodded. “No. He has his assistant, Sinclaire, call me and negotiate everything.”
    Sinclaire . Or Andris. I couldn’t let Lexie know that he was my new psychiatrist. She would be tearing that contract up in less than two heartbeats. If it was one thing that Lexie was very strict on, it was my therapy. She, like my doctors, believed that I would be cured of my lack of certain emotions. After nearly twenty-five years in therapy, I hated to tell her that it probably wasn’t going to happen. I needed this money. It would finish paying off my condo as well as have enough left over for me to start real savings. When you are left with absolutely nothing, you remember every struggle that you faced trying to survive. I remembered being fourteen years old and sleeping on the streets of New York. I remember looking for food in restaurant dumpsters or having to go to the Salvation Army to get a warm meal. No one cared about the poor Senator’s daughter and the fact that she was homeless and hungry after her parents died.
    “He told me the conditions are just like last night. Sinclaire will be there with you and the client. You know what to do if you ever feel like the situation is unsafe, correct?”
    Lexie required us to have her number pre-programed in our phones as speed dial one. That way all we had to do was press “one” and send. She knew we would need her, if, or when she answered and all she heard was background noise. Our clients were required to provide her with the address and location of where our session would be held. There was also a time limit so that the client couldn’t keep us over a certain amount of time. We also had Vinny, Lexie’s scarily huge husband, who had won national bodybuilding competitions, ready to kick the asses of some clients who decided they wanted to break the rules.
    “Yes. I have a feeling that everything will be okay.”
    “Okay, then. I’ll have your schedule cleared for the next twelve weeks. What are you going to do with all your free time?”
    Good question. I was usually always sleeping during the day, unless I was attending therapy,