Guidance Read Online Danielle Allen

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 16548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
<<<<12311>17
Advertisement

Expert:

When you’re a mental health professional, your job is to take care of everyone else.
But who takes care of you?

Full Book:

1

“I’m just really busy. The festival is next weekend and I just have so much to do. And—”

“Cam,” Ebony interrupted. “Breathe.”

I inhaled and exhaled. “I’m breathing.”

“You take care of everyone and everything. It’s time for you to be taken care of.”

My best friend was right. I opened my mouth to tell her that, but my office phone rang loudly, interrupting our conversation.

“Eb, let me call you when I get off. This thing has been ringing off the hook all morning.”

“Go, go, go! But think about taking a vacation. Fuck the end of the school year.”

Laughing, I shook my head. “Girl, bye!”

I tossed my cell phone down and quickly answered the phone on my desk. A teacher needed help with something that had nothing to do with my actual job. But I helped her because she needed it. When I hung up, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Ebony said.

It is time for me to be taken are of.

But because there was so much to do in preparation for the festival in addition to my other job duties, I didn’t have time to figure out what that meant. And when my phone rang again, I decided to ignore it.

I mean, damn! This is the Mondayest Thursday.

“Mute,” I muttered, stopping the phone from ringing.

Deciding to let the call go to voicemail, I clicked through the list of names each teacher submitted. Cross referencing each submission with the coordinating student file, I organized my spreadsheet with relevant details. I was up to my eyeballs in work and the constant calls and meetings were getting in the way of one of the highlights of the school year. The Richard Alexander Woodson School of Performing Arts Festival of Art was a showcase of visual and performing arts by the students and I was spearheading the event.

I was just about to pull on the sweater I kept draped across the back of my chair when the heavy knock against my office door caught me off guard. My door was solid oak so I couldn’t see who it was, but I knew I didn’t have a meeting scheduled until the end of the day. With a sigh, I rolled the chair back from my desk. Slipping my feet out of the furry slippers, I stepped into the black heels that complemented my black and white polka dot dress. I crossed the room as the second round of knocks rained down.

“Yes?” I said, swinging the door open and hiding my annoyance behind a smile.

“Uh, hi…” he greeted me slowly. “I’m looking for Dr. Branch.”

The deep voice and chiseled jawline of the man in front of me rooted me in place. I had never seen a man so fine in my life—especially not while at work. He sounded as good as he looked, and I wasn’t prepared for that.

A strikingly handsome man with a close-cut Caesar and the creamiest mocha complexion stood in front of me. His juicy lips were surrounded by a luxuriously thick black beard with a hint of salt and pepper dancing in it. His brown eyes were expressive, and I was instantly sucked into the slight panic that lived in them.

I had no idea who he was, but I wanted to.

His laid-back outfit of jeans and t-shirt fit his tall, muscular frame well and gave him a youthful look. His casual style made it clear he wasn’t a teacher or staff member. His lack of a uniform led me to believe he wasn’t delivering anything. I didn’t have any parent meetings scheduled for the day so he couldn’t have been a father. So, for a few silent seconds, the mystery man and I stared at one another.

My panties seemed too snug all of a sudden as they dampened and clung to me. The satin in my bra seemed too cold and smooth as my nipples tightened. But I wasn’t just physically and sexually attracted to him. There was something in his eyes that tugged at my racing heart.

My lips parted but words didn’t immediately form.

“Yes?” I repeated myself softly. The word came out as a faint exhale.

He looked just as confused as I felt. Checking out the nameplate beside my door and then back to me, he said, “I’m sorry. Are you Dr. Branch?”

“I am.”

His soft brown eyes widened. “Oh wow. I uh I’m sorry to barge in on you like this. My daughter brought home a note and I wanted to talk to you about it. I tried calling, but no one was at the front desk and—”

“Everything okay, Cam?” Ms. Diane, the counseling office administrator, asked as she toddled through the front door with a fresh cup of coffee in her hands. She peered over her tortoiseshell glasses, looking between me and the man in front of me.


Advertisement

<<<<12311>17

Advertisement

Advertisement