Simone's POV
"Can I have my appointments for today please?" I ask Alyssa over the phone in my office.
"You have Vanessa, Sara, Mr. Gene, and it says you have a new client starting today. Uh, Blake Griffin is his name?"
"Yes, would you mind bringing me my original clients files and I will have a new one ready for Mr. Griffin." I tell her clicking off the intercom.
Sighing as I lean back in my chair behind my desk, Alysssa makes her way in with multiple, thick manilla folders in her hand.
"Dr. Graham, you do know who Blake Griffin is right?" Alyssa asks, giving me a bewildered look.
"He's in the NBA right?" I ask, pulling out another folder, and putting a tab on it to write his name.
"He's one of the best forwards the NBA has ever seen, he's an absolute beast on the court."
"I think I've heard Russell talking about him a couple of times," I let my sentence dwindle off, looking up at her surprised face.
"Look him up. Watch some highlights on YouTube when you have time, you won't be disappointed." She says in a sing song voice as she exits my office, closing the two big doors behind her.
Laminating the tag on his folder, I turn to my computer letting my hand hover over the mouse; contemplating if I should watch videos of him. He's piqued my interest, from what his coach called me for he's very concerned about him. He's on a downward spiral, suffering from a severe loss. I have to admit, we are going through similar situations, but my private life is always kept separate from my work life.
Pulling myself in closer to my Apple desktop, I ready my hands over the keyboard and I begin typing. I'll just watch a couple of minutes of one video, I think to myself.
A couple of minutes of one video turned into multiple video montages of all of Blake's greatest plays ever made, from college until now. Even a couple of interviews, to see how he handles himself, and his son is a little heartthrob. Even though my son plays basketball, all around I don't know that much about it; other than the fact that I love watching it.
All of his actions on the court are intricate, he doesn't want and doesn't have time to make mistakes in such a fast paced game. I can see why he does what he does for a living, it's his job and he's good at it.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
For the twelfth time in ten minutes I glanced at the clock, my hands subconsciously running over my clothing to make sure everything was still straightened. Sighing heavily, I rolled my eyes.
He was late, and I was acting like some nervous schoolgirl about to go out on a date. It wasn't like patients hadn't missed appointments with me before. From what I've heard, he does seem like the type to miss and not call, though. I hoped he hadn't changed his mind.
"Dr. Graham, Blake Griffin is here," Alyssa's voice came through the speaker and I immediately tensed.
"Send him in, please."
The door opened and I couldn't help staring as he stepped inside, looking better in person than on any picture I've ever seen. Sporting a black polo, khaki shorts, and some all black Jordans.
A smile broke out easily across his face and I didn't miss the way his eyes roamed over me, looking pleased.
"Sorry I'm late. I got a flat tire."
"No worries," I replied with a smile standing. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Dr. Graham." His hand finds mine, giving it a firm shake.
"Blake Griffin," he replies, giving a friendly smile.
I gestured toward the chairs, "Have a seat." Moving around my desk, I quickly settled into the chair across from him. "How are you doing today?"
"I'm good; but before we get started, I need to confess something."
That caught me off guard. "Okay. What's on your mind?"
"Well, I just wanted to tell you that I am willing to do this, to play," he quickly added. "I'm just saying now, that I hope you can do this as quickly as possible, I say about a week of counseling should do it."
I chuckle softly, looking up at him. "Mr. Griffin, how many points do you average a game?"
He sits forward in his seat, an amused smile tugging on the corner of his lips.
"At least twenty five to thirty. Why?"
"Well, take those average points away from what your team usually scores altogether, and you tell me what I'm hinting at. Does your team need you?"
"Yes, they need me which is what I'm trying to tell you."
"Well, you let me do what I do best and you'll be out there before you know it. You have to take this seriously."
"What did he tell you?" He asks, his eyes searching my face as if it has the answer.
"Well, let's see what I have written down already," I open his folder, scanning through my notes.
"You've been drinking out of control, various women, there are accounts of you even smoking weed a couple of times." I look at him through my lashes.
"Yes, and I will admit that. I have been on the wild side lately, but when have you ever not heard of celebrities doing crazy stuff?"
"All the time, it's just this affects you differently. You are the face of a franchise, little kids look up to you."
"This has all been explained to me. I don't need to hear it again." He waves his hand at me, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.
I take my pen in hand, jotting down a couple of things.
"You're married?" He asks, making my pen stop still in hand as I look at the wedding ring that I left on.
Damn, I forgot to take it off.
"No, I'm not." I sigh heavily, looking back up at him from my notes.
"Engaged then?"
"No I am not, but we are not here to focus on me we are focusing on you Mr. Griffin."
"You can call me Blake, if we're going to be seeing each other. I want us to think of this as we're friends. You are going to learn everything about me."
"I'm sorry, Mr.-"
"Blake." He insists.
"Blake, I'm sorry but this is strictly business."
"I'm just trying to take this seriously like you suggested earlier, and this makes me comfortable. If I felt that we were friends."
"Blake, can we just focus on you, okay? This appointment can't run over, you were late."
"Why can't it run over?" He asks.
I actually have to pick up Russell from school, and then hustle him off to basketball practice.
"You are a really curious man, why is that?" I rest my head on the top of my hand.
"I'm not, you're just," his eyes look me up and down. "Interesting. Let's go with that word."
"Been called many things, and I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or be offended."
"You can take it as a compliment, you're welcome. So will you answer my question?"
"About what?" I sigh, picking up my pen again.
"Will you treat me as if I'm a friend?" He shows off his perfect smile.
"You are, something else you know that? There are no words."
"Well, what can I say? I have always been pretty charming."
"Blake, this session didn't go how I wanted it at all in the least. I hope you are ready tomorrow." I give him a smile, shutting his file, and putting it in the pile with the others.
"We're done already?" He asks, perking up.
"Well, you were late. I have somewhere to be also."
"A date? Family?"
"Family." I say, standing and smoothing down my dress.
"Well then, I guess I'm being dismissed. I'll see you tomorrow Dr. Graham," he stands too, and I have to tilt my head up to look in his eyes.
"Yes, I will." He shakes my hand, releasing me and moving towards the door.
"You still never answered my question by the way, but I'll let it slide."
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Thoughts? I appreciate it.
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