Edward had called Asher right after Estella stormed out of the car. He felt exhalrilating, his exhauted car, now damaged, oozing with smoke near the hood, stood in the lower Manhattan, the Canal St.
He laughed at himself, pounding his fist on the hood, the overheat surface almost burning his skin. Anger ran cold in his veins like poison, and when his assistant showed up, he instructed him to take the car for repair and headed for his destination. He enjoyed every second of the ride but the moment Dave showed up, his was going mad.
Estella was a fucking mediocre girl who got his attention through the first day when they first met on the premise of Distill corp. Though he was certain he felt an attraction, at first sight, his need to know her, even more, became specific after the demise of Distill corp. Estella had no idea that she had helped him in some way. And she was never going to find out how.
A consumimg need clouded his mind, the wild eyes of Estella flashing before him. The excitement was refreshing, yet there was a nagging feeling that he was more interested in her than he should be.
On 266 Mulberry St, Newark was Mrs. Jones' office. Midnight was at its peak and since the light was seeping through the glass door, he guessed she was still at work.
He halted at the doorway only to eye the closed sign and stepped in ignoring the information. Mrs. Jones worked overtime, well, most of the time and she would never refuse to see him no matter what the time was.
The lobby smelled like sandalwood with the scented candles that shone above the shelf in the grey stone wall. The floor was tiled with white marble, wiped so clean that it reflected back the faces in the light. Velvet curtains draped over medium size windows, every couch empty, and a few steps ahead, Edward saw a woman.
She wasn't Mrs. Jones.
The brown curtain of her straight hair fell from both sides of the head and as he observed-she was flipping papers, then jotting down things in her notepad and repeating the same thing again. She exerted her rectangular rimmed glasses all the way up her nose and didn't seem to notice when he approached there.
Edward had to knock on the desk to get her attention.
She jolted her head up in surprise. "All appointments for the day are done!" She spoke, indicating at the closed sign while Edward noticed her hair wasn't brown but Auburn.
"I beg to differ Mrs... " he looked over to the ring on her finger.
"Teresa. I just got engaged," she corrected him. "Anyway, Mrs. Jones is not available."
"Just tell her Frank Ortega is here. She won't need an appointment to meet me."
She scrunched her face in concentration. "I have handled each one of Mrs. Jones' patient and I never heard of that name or even seen you before."
Of course, she had never seen him. He was too smart to be seen other than Mrs. Jones. But tonight he had come unannounced and he wasn't expecting her or anyone. It was midnight and unsettling for a girl to be working that late. He cleared his throat. "I'm not her patient."
She shrugged her shoulders, scanning him coherently. "I'm sorry but she specifically told me not to interrupt her. You can come tomorrow."
"I don't like to wait." He kept his voice calm.
"If you know her then why don't you call her yourself, " Teresa said, her eyes lowered at files and binders she was shuffling in some order.
Edward drew a deep breath, his patience wearing thin. "She needs to pick her phone up first to know I'm fucking here."
Teresa, now furious at him, removed her glasses. At that point, Edward felt a sense of familiarity, and if his mind wasn't already occupied with so many things, he could have guessed if he really knew her or his eyes were playing tricks in stress.
"Excuse me?" She said, eyes widening in disbelief. "Mrs. Jones is my boss and I have to follow her orders. Any mistake and I'll end up blowing up my residency."
The loud thump of his fist against the hardwood table made her flinch and she dropped the binders in fear. Edward's red fingers rubbed against the table as his piercing eyes bore into hers like an arrow. "You answer me back one more time and I'll fucking blow up your whole life." The girl shivered in the theatrics. "Now. Call. Her."
Teresa hesitated for a first few seconds before nodding in fear and wore back her glasses. She quickly dialed a number without trying to cover up the fact that he scared her. "What did you say your name again?"
"Frank Ortega." He answered, leaning over the table and watched Teresa mumbling the name into the phone, and seconds later as if she had been scolded, her face fell in embarrassment.
She put the phone down and spoke in a low voice. "She's waiting for you in her cabin."
Edward vividly remembered the outlets of the place and her cabin so without waiting for her to tell him the directions, he strode away into the hallway, took a quick turn, and stopped in front of the pristine white door that spelled private.
Not bothering to knock, he entered in. Two women; one mother, and another similar looking daughter with a guy in his mid-twenties sat across the table on the couch, exactly opposite to Mrs. Jones.
As their eyes met, she closed her long and thick notebook and set it aside on the silk couch she was sitting on.
Mrs. Jones was ushering those people to meet them the next day as Edward rounded his way to the same green couch those people were occupying a few seconds ago.
As soon as Mrs. Jones' previous clients were gone, she faced him. "This is a very unusual day to show up, Mr. Blake," she sighed, walking over to the closet, then inserting one particular key from the set of her jingling keychain inside the hole and unlocked the door. There was a small device like a USB Drive, or maybe something else but he never asked. She would never think of recording his session. He had projected that kind of fear of him in her as well.
Mrs. Jones kept the notebook she was writing on and pulled another from her locker. "It must be important for you to come tonight."
She firmly fell back on her spot, tossing her keys set on the rectangular box of pebbles sitting on the coffee table between them. Edward finally said. "Where do you see me with a woman, mrs jones?."
Her psychiatrist shot her a look, a surprised and habitual customary one. "Woman? That had to be new."
Mrs. Jones' cabin was small, accustomed to luxury furniture, lush carpets beneath their feet, a glass coffee table, and behind it was a big bookshelf stacked with hundreds of binders. Mrs. Jone had a habit of renovating the small room every year. "The one and last woman we discussed was your mother. Although, we never finished discussing that."
My mother?" Edward knit his brows together. "That topic is out of limits."
"You have to talk to about it someday," she said, flipping pages of her notebook. A name was scribbled on the side. His fake name Frank Ortega.
"I asked you a question," he said. "Let's focus on that."
"That would be kind of hard to picture it since you enjoy no ones company but yours." She said. "Looking at women in your life, you've barely talked to me about your birth mother and Vanessa, your step mother. However I'm glad you've made a progress with Nora."
"We exchange words sometimes." He said, remembering her step sister.
"But having her around is not a bother anymore.
"Only when she isn't talking. " he cleared. "She's a real chatter box."
"And Vanessa?"
"She bearable," he told her. "When she isn't trying too hard to get me to like her."
"She's a really kind and caring woman. " Mrs jones said.
"She's all pretensious."
"These are not my words, Mr. Blake." She said, flipping her pages. "In one of the our very first session you said how kind she was and she took care of you during your accident in your high school. That was the last time you said something nice about her."
"I did?" He raised his brows, not wanting to accept the fact.
"Something happened a year ago with you, right?" Mrs jones studied his feature. Edward tensed, his gaze stiff and seemed to be lost in a deep memory.
"I found out my father's deep resentmet toward me." He said, his voice dropping, his memory still surrounding him.
"What did you find out?"
There was a pause and he was snapped out of his reverie. "You always have a way of bringing this topic again and again."
"And you always stop about right here, giving me nothing." She argued.
"Some secrets are for me to bear." He countered back.
"No it's my failed attempt at gaining yor trust."
"Yes, you're right," he said. "But it's not because you aren't trying. You're scared of me and you're trying to find a leverage over me."
Mrs jones smiled sarcastically. "You think your flaws scare me? Or they scare you?"
"No, my flaws make me powerful." He said.
"I don't think so,"
"Really?"
"Otherwise you wouldn't habe come here to talk to me about a woman you clearly are intrested."
"Yes she is interesting." He said. "Although she seemed pissed earlier when I tried helping her."
"Help her how?"
"I tried to give her a ride. She refused and even gave a lecture about some bullshit like she can do whatever she wants."
"What made her say that?"
"Apprantly she said she didn't need my help but I was worried about her and I came. She should feel grateful about it. I even saved her from a bad tbing earlier."
"And I'm sure she is, Mr. Blake." Mrs Jones said.
"You do?" He smirked. "I think I like her."
"How has been she to you up until now."
"Careful,"he said. "She test me a lot. But I like the chase she's giving me. It's quite fun."
"Do you see her as a possible romantic partner?"
"Do I?" He smiled again, his eyes dancing. "Yes, I think I do."
A knock came inside the room and a second later, Teresa peeked in through the half-opened the door. Her eyes were anywhere but at them. "I have finished my work for tonight and my fiance is waiting for me outside. So night, Mrs. Jones. I'll see you tomorrow morning."
"Good night, Miss Keller." She greeted her back and when the door was shut completely, she turned her attention at him. "Mr. Blake. Do you want to keep going with what happened tonight or shall we pick up from where we left in the last session?"
"She is stubborn, you know." He whispered a little later and his words echoed in the empty room.
"Teresa?"
"Estella. Her name is Estella."
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