The Therapist.

| Chapter 1. |

Covering her mouth, Devin wiped the stray tears out of her eyes, letting out a tired, loud, and very uninterested yawn. For the past two hours, she was attempting to block out the sound of her date's voice, but this guy wasn't catching the hint and just continued to go on and on.

He had spent the entire evening talking about himself, not once asking Devin about herself- and was now on the subject of his just as boring job- real estate. Even when it was clear that she 100% didn't care.

Fighting to stay awake, she sat upright, outlining the shape of her empty wine glass with her freshly manicured index finger, realizing she may need to ask for another to survive the night.

Marc- her date, was eyeing her with a scowl on his face, probably hurt that she wasn't engaging in conversation. She had said nothing the entire date but a simple "oh?" and "well, that's great" and now it seemed as if she was the one who was regretting agreeing to the blind date.

"So, Devin, is it? What is it that you do?" Marc coughed, catching Devin's attention. She lifted her head and glanced at him, as he played with a piece of his 6 oz steak and shoved the room temperature meat into his mouth.

"I'm a bank teller." She watched him closely as he frowned, obviously displeased with her answer. She instantly became more annoyed with him in that moment, before he quickly turned his face up.

"Oh. You don't need a college degree for that, do you?" He soon replied, as Devin kept a stern glare in his direction. What the hell did that mean?

"What are you getting at?" She growled, Marc shrugging his shoulders in response.

"It's just a question. You can't get into real estate without a college degree. So I was curious." He replied, as Devin scoffed loudly.

"Actually... you can. I tried that route too and it wasn't enough in this day and time." She replied loud enough for him to hear, turning her head and letting her eyes lock with their server for the night.

"May I get another glass of wine? I need it." She begged once the waiter made his way over, allowing him to grab her glass and walked away.

Sighing lowly, Marc shoved a forkful of his cold mashed potatoes into his mouth as well. "Why do I get the feeling that you don't want to be on this date?"

"Because I don't." Devin replied, twirling her leftover pasta noodles on her own fork, before meeting Marc's stern gaze.

She was known for being blunt, but many of times- she was just rude. Even if she didn't notice it. She dropped the fork, once seeing Marc's expression change as he processed her words. Cutting her eyes, she slowly parted her lips.

"You cannot be serious. You call this a date? You actually see a future for us?" She questioned, watching Marc as he slumped his shoulders sadly.

"Perhaps not," He replied, reaching into his black off name brand suit jacket and pulling out a matching black wallet. "I'll just grab the check, then."

Devin nodded her head, staring at Marc as he raised his arm for the waiter's attention. He really was a handsome man- with chocolate skin, dark round brown eyes and a smile to die for. He just wasn't the right man for Devin. And then she thought, just because their date ended sour, didn't mean their night had too.

"We don't have to call it a night so quickly." Devin mumbled, crossing her legs under the table as she subtly licked her lips in a seductive form.

"Pardon?" Marc raised an eyebrow, staring at Devin curiously. She smiled, while batting her eyelashes.

"I mean, I'm sure you can figure this out, right?" She replied, growing impatient with Marc's stupidity. He began playing with his solid black tie, obviously at a loss for words.