Greeting Beatrice seemed to be a feat in itself. I just wanted to find a nice dark hole, crawl in it and live there. But life doesn’t give a shit what mood you are in or if your world is caving in. Its demands are never-ending and you have no choice but to get through it, ready or not. I had already learned that the hard way. “What happened?” Her tone was cautious, unlike the happy-go-lucky pain in the ass confrontational voice she usually used. Her concern put me on edge. “Nothing,” I said defiantly, refusing to entertain that my newest break up should affect my life in any way. Concern clear in her features, she gave me an encouraging smile. My eyes narrowed. That son of a bitch. “So he calls you now to keep an eye on me? I suppose he told you everything?” “Ms. Dallas—” “Dr. Whitaker. You are not to ask me about anything else, do you hear me?
