CHAPTER TWO
In the outer office, Dr. Miller's receptionist Gloria Stern clenched her teeth to keep from screaming, "You two-timing motherfucking bastard!" Her dark, heavily fringed eyes blazed as she leaned over to switch off the tape recorder hidden in her desk drawer.
The knuckles of her hands whitened with the force of her grip on the edge of her desk, necessary to cool down before he came out to greet Dorothy Alban, who sat primly across from her on the sofa, her hands clasped in her lap and ankles crossed below, awaiting her session.
Gloria breathed deeply and forced a smile to her pink lips. Remember, she told herself, you'll have the last laugh. Regaining her composure, she removed the earphone from under her long red hair and placed it on the dictaphone beside her typewriter. Th
