Page 18 of The Wedding Situation Romance

Chapter 6

Quinn

This man isout of his fucking mind.

As I make my way to work the next day, drive-thru coffee in hand, I still can’t believe that Reid actually thought I’d go out with him again. And multiple times to boot! Never in my life have I had a man be so annoyingly persistent in being around me. And never in my life have I been less flattered by it.

Because here is the thing I have figured out about Reid…what’s his name. No, I don’t know his last name. I haven’t asked. Because I don’t care. Because he’s not important. He’s nobody.

ReidNobodyis not used to losing. Not cases, not women, not conversations, not conversations with women. So the fact that more than one I have been able to keep up with him shot for shot and even have the last word here and there, well. His ego (which is probably about the size of a balloon float in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade) can’t handle it. So he’s going to keep coming back for more untilhefeels like he’s won.

Well, do I have news for him–that isnotgoing to happen. Not with me.

I sip my coffee (a raspberry white mocha) with a grin as I pull into my parking spot. And as I throw the car into park, I feel pretty good about myself.

Today is a slow day at work, which I don’t mind. Not having any new clients means I have time to get caught up on things. My emails have been overflowing as of recently, all prospective clients looking to book appointments with me. Nothing makes me happier than that. It’s enough to help me forget about Mr. Nobody for a while, which is good. Bad thoughts bring bad vibes. And bad vibes have no space in my office.

Speaking of that.

I get up from my desk and walk over to the diffuser. Even if I have no clients today, lavender sounds lovely. I even get a little wild and add some citrus too. Calming yet energizing, two things I could benefit from right now.

Suddenly, my phone rings. My financial advisor pops up on the screen and I answer it.

“Hey Sabina, how are you? How was your trip to Germany?” I ask.

“Oh, it was lovely,” she says with her thick accent. “It’s nice to visit home and reconnect with everyone.”

“You got to see your family then?” I ask.

“Oh, hell no. I didn’t even tell my family I was going. That would have ruined the whole R&R aspect. I meant the horses. I went to the ranch to see my horses,” she says, and I laugh.

“So, a sabbatical then,” I say.

“Something like that. But that’s actually not why I am calling. I know I was only gone for a week, but I came back to some things that look concerning,” she says. Sabine usually works from home. While we do have an office, obviously, her job can easily be done remotely, and considering New York traffic, it makes more sense for her to be remote.

“If it’s about the Fletchers, we have a private donor for them. They’re both teachers at the charter school on Salisbury, and the school is funding them anonymously.”

“It’s not about that, Quinn,” she says, and I stop, my smile fading a little. Sabina only says my name when something’s off.

“Okay. So, what is it?” I ask.

“We are coming up short on a lot of fronts. Enough that we might be at risk of going under,” she says, and her words confuse me.

“How can that be?” I ask. “We’ve had to stretch a few things here and there, but we’ve always had loyal donors, not to mention government funding.”

Government funding, federal and state grants provided to independent family and mental health service needs, has always been a steady cash flow for us. Consider it a form of Medicaid, except we have jumped through enough hoops that while many insurance companies don’t consider couples counseling a health need, we have convinced them that the health of a marriage directly impacts the health of a person.

“I don’t understand,” I say.

“Regulations have apparently tightened on both state and federal levels, and they are cutting back,” she says.

“Okay…” I say, quietly starting in on some deep breathing exercises to regulate some things of my own. “And what about our private donors? Family foundations?” I ask.

“It’s a domino effect, Quinn. Where do you think they get their money to donate?”

“The government,” I let out, sitting down on the couch near the diffuser.

“Well…what are we going to do?” I stuttered. “I just assigned a new couple to Allegra. And…and what about all our existing clients? They can’t just stop therapy right in the middle of their journeys. It would be detrimental. Sabina, I can’t just pull the rug out from under these people. I can’t.”