Free The Boyfriend Sessions by Belinda Williams

Handy Hamish.”
    “That settles it. You’re hired,” Cate interrupted.
    We all looked at her quizzically.
    “Token guy during our sessions.”
    I opened my mouth to object, but Scarlett cut me off.
    “You’ve got to admit,” Scarlett said, “girls talk endlessly about guys and relive this stuff to no end. Max comes in and has summed up the situation in a few sentences. I think it’s a good idea.”
    I looked at Maddy, my last hope. She just shrugged. “Max is my brother. It doesn’t bother me, so long as you’re okay with it. Plus I can talk him into giving us a lift every week.”
    Outvoted, I turned my attention to Max. “You should at least have a say in this.”
    His brown eyes were friendly, but unreadable. “I can think of worse places to be.”
    “Four to one!” Cate wasn’t leaving room for further objection. “Welcome to Christa’s love life, Max,” she concluded, far too happily in my opinion.
    Scarlett’s expression was deadpan as she rose to go outside for a cigarette. “I think we’re in for quite a ride.”

Chapter 9
    The sun was high in the sky when I made my way down to the grassed area nestled between McMahons Point and Blues Point Reserve, overlooking Sydney Harbour. Even as a non-morning person like myself, the weather had enticed me into leaving the house earlier than necessary for my Tuesday boot camp session.
    The spring morning was vibrant and surprisingly warm, the sting on my bare arms reminding me that next time I’d do better to apply sunscreen before I left. I’d found a watchful old oak tree to sit under and at first had been distracted by the scene before me. The harbor was magnificent, with a gentle onshore breeze coaxing the brilliant blue of the water into a series of haphazard small white peaks. The bridge was already busy with traffic and the steady hum of trains. Cyclists, walkers and runners were out in full force, taking advantage of the weather.
    With some effort, I returned my attention to the sketch I’d been working on. The woman stared back at me with a piercing expression, her dark eyes suggesting secrets of loss and betrayal. Her black hair was long and wavy, and I’d sketched it to snake around her bare shoulders as though possessed by a serpentine demon, giving it a life of its own. She was clutching her ruby cape against a bitter wind and although I had yet to draw it, I could already envision the shadow of an ancient tree and the rich colors of a fire sputtering in defiance behind her.
    “Wow.”
    I jumped. I’d been so absorbed in what I was doing I hadn’t even noticed the shadow across my legs. Relief quickly followed when I realized it was Max. With a quick glance at my watch, I saw it was only ten minutes to our boot camp class. After my ‘counseling session’ last Thursday, I’d felt kind of strange about having him come to the apartment to escort me, so had messaged him to meet me here.
    He edged nearer to me. “Maddy always said you could draw. That’s striking. Would you mind if I took a closer look?”
    I stood, sketch book in hand, and eyed him more warily than I’d intended. I couldn’t read his expression behind the reflective Ray Bans he wore, so I could only assume his interest was genuine.
    A flicker of a smile crossed his lips. “If you’re not comfortable showing me, it’s alright.”
    “No, it’s fine,” I answered, quickly. “You just took me by surprise, that’s all.”
    Stiffly I offered him the book and he studied my work in progress in silence. I felt as though it was an examination and found myself rocking nervously from foot to foot.
    He went to turn the page, but looked up before going on. “Do you mind?”
    It touched me that he’d asked permission. Most people assumed artwork was for public enjoyment and they rarely thought to ask the artist if they were prepared to share their work. Sometimes, however, artists create purely for their own pleasure. These sketches fell into that category. “Of