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Last Minute

Mason confidently eased his black Porsche Carrera 4S out of the driveway. Thea nervously folded her hands in her lap and looked out the window, feeling awkward in the thick silence. As the engine hummed, so did their conversation as Mason started talking about his work. Thea gradually relaxed, their conversation filling the car with the sound of easy laughter.

Mason looked over at her, inquisitive, as he asked her, “How did you become a therapist?” He shifted the focus from himself to her, his expression a mix of curiosity and admiration.

Thea nervously ran her hands through her hair as she spoke. “It’s not something I ever planned on doing,” she admitted. “I was feeling so lost and out of control of my own life. I thought if I could understand myself better, I could improve things, so I enrolled in psychology classes to learn more.”

Mason glanced from the twisting highway to her, his light blue eyes intense. “Now that you’ve gone through this journey, do you like who you’ve become?”

Thea paused, furrowing her brows, “Well, I mean... yes and no,” she said softly. “I love that I’m driven and ambitious, but I don’t love that work can get so consuming that it blinds me to the beauty of life,” her voice quivered, and her gaze drifted away as she pondered the irony of her situation.

Mason’s eyes were heavy with understanding as he gripped the wheel, “It’s a noble profession, helping others, but sometimes it can become all-encompassing.”

Thea’s eyes lit up, and a broad smile spread across her face. “Exactly,” she said, her voice sincere. “I like to think I’m helping people in the same way that I wish someone could have helped me when I was going through my hardest times.”

Mason reminisced on the dozens of divorce cases he had taken over the past two years. He remembered the couples who had shared their stories with him, their faces etched in sadness or anger. One by one, he thought of their names and common threads between them—money, infidelity, mistrust. He murmured to himself, “We have that in common.”

* * *

The sky was a brilliant blue as they pulled up to the law firm, and the sun was bright, casting a golden light onto the sidewalk. Mason opened the door to his office and ushered Thea in. The room was filled with the smell of leather and wood. He slapped a stack of client files on the table and took a seat, still wearing his suit jacket. He took out several folders full of receipts and spread them across the wooden surface, tapping one with his finger. “We need evidence that he cheated to make this case a slam dunk. There are several receipts in here from hotels around town that don’t tally up with where he says he was during the time of the infidelity.”

Thea’s mouth hung open as her eyes scanned the piles of paper. Neatly organized into rows and columns, the number of receipts was staggering, “There must be at least a hundred here.”

“At least…” Mason sighed, unable to take his eyes off Thea. She was bent over the table, methodically sorting through a stack of receipts. His gaze roamed over her body as he could see the swell of her chest, just beneath the fabric of her blouse. He tried to will away his desire, but the sight of her curvy figure, highlighted by her tight-fitting skirt, pushed all other thoughts from his mind. He fought against the urge to take her then and there, to rip off every piece of clothing she had on and make her his at that very moment. His breathing became shallow, and he could feel himself getting aroused as his gaze drifted down to where her dress was riding up on her smooth thighs. His arms were folded tightly in front of him as he tried to hide the physical evidence of his arousal from Thea’s watchful eye.

Thea felt the air between them become thick with s****l tension and shifted uncomfortably. With a raised eyebrow, she gestured to the endless stacks of paper that filled the wooden table. “Don’t most clients just do this kind of thing themselves?” she asked.

Mason slowly sank further into the old, worn leather chair and lifted the first of the scattered receipts from the table. His fingers ran along its crisp corners as he said, “We do more than just provide a service. We provide an experience. We’re worth every penny our clients pay us. We take care of the entire operation from research to execution, and that’s why they keep coming back.”

Thea nodded her head in understanding, her eyes crinkling in concentration as she settled into her chair. She adjusted the table lamp and reached for the stack of receipts, its edges curling from use. One by one, she paused to read each document, making careful notations about each item before setting them aside. As the hours passed, the stack of receipts diminished until a few remained.

Mason and Thea were hunched over the stack of paperwork, their eyes focused and brows furrowed as they worked. Suddenly the shrill sound of Mason’s desk phone pierced the air. He sighed and walked over, cautiously lifting the receiver and pressing it to his ear. “Reynolds and Evans Law Firm,” he said in a businesslike manner. But his posture changed as soon as he heard the voice on the other end. “Hello, Mother,” he said, sinking into his chair as he spoke. His face had paled, and Thea stopped her work to listen in. After a few moments of silence, Mason exclaimed with exasperation, “It’s 3 pm, and you’re just telling me this now?” he muttered a few more words into the phone before hanging up. He stared at it briefly before dropping his head into his hands.

Thea slowly stepped towards Mason; her brow furrowed with worry. She studied him for a moment before speaking softly, “Are you okay?”

Mason raised his head and met her gaze, his eyes searching hers for a hint of sincerity. He cleared his throat and asked, “Is this a counseling question or genuine concern?”

Thea bit her lip and shook her head, her long hair cascading around her face. “I don’t know,” she said softly. “I’m just trying to understand how to be both a submissive and a therapist to you.”

Mason’s grin showed the apology he didn’t want to say, and his blue eyes looked away in shame. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, “I’m sorry for unloading my personal problems on you.”

Thea offered a faint, hesitant smile, her lips barely curving upwards. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice soft and reassuring. Her eyes were full of understanding, and her warm gaze said she accepted his apology.

Mason’s stomach churned as he slowly inhaled, held his breath for five seconds, and released it in a long, deliberate exhale. He stared out the window, watching the storm clouds rolling in and wishing he was anywhere but here. “Tonight, I’m heading to a party I don’t want to attend. But since they’re one of our biggest clients, my mother said it’s polite to show up,” he finished, dreading tonight’s party.

“Oh?” Thea tilted her head and smiled, her eyes sparkling, “What kind of party is it?”

Mason shrugged his shoulders, a look of bewilderment and confusion painting his face. “She just said it’s a formal party and that I should dress nice and ‘look the part,’ whatever that means.”

Thea looked intently at Mason’s furrowed brow and intense gaze. Despite the acrimony that had settled on his face, she could still see the handsome, strong lines of his jaw and nose beneath it all. “I’m sure you’ll look stunning,” she said softly, eyes twinkling in a gentle smile.

Mason’s lips twisted into a smug, knowing grin as he said, “What I’m less sure about is if I’ll have a good time or not.”

Thea slowly nodded, her eyes locked with Mason’s, “I know it can be hard,” she said in a low voice. “You have so much on your plate right now, and this extra commitment might be too much. Maybe try talking to your mom about it. Tell her that with everything you have going on; it’s not the best time for you to go to a party.”

Mason shot Thea a sidelong glance, lips pressed into a thin line as he twirled his pen in circles against the desk. His eyes were unreadable, but the slight curve of his mouth suggested a wry amusement. “I wonder what she would think about that?” he murmured. He looked away and tapped the pen against the desk again. “Head home and get ready for tonight. I want you to look your best. There’s no way I will be attending this party alone!”