Chapter 14

Bob sat and read magazines, until there were none left to examine. There was no noise coming through the door—it was so quiet he felt like he was the only person on the planet. Eventually, his ears detected the hum of air being pushed here and there by the building's air handler units. He heard a siren dimly, through the walls, but no traffic noises. He checked his watch so frequently that he finally took it off and put it in his pocket. Finally, he dozed off.

He woke, when the door opened and Claire came out. She held out her hand.

"Give me a dollar, Bob," she said firmly.

"What?" His eyebrows rose.

"Give me a dollar."

He fished out his wallet. The smallest bill he had was a five. She snatched it from his hand. Without another word, she turned and reentered her office.

He went to the secretary's desk. Her computer was passworded but, as with most people, a little searching found the slip of paper that had the password on it. No doubt the girl had thought she'd been clever by taping it under the desk top, inside the drawer, but it was the second place he looked. Once in, he investigated the games on the computer. None of them had any high scores registered. No game playing went on in this office.

He settled back to make himself immortal on the high score boards.

When the door finally opened, and Bob turned, he saw concern and anguish on one woman's face. It wasn't on Lacey's face, though. Lacey looked a little confused, but otherwise comfortable.

Claire hugged Lacey and turned to Bob.

"You can take her home now. We have a lot more to do, but at least now I know what we're facing."

Bob had a hundred questions. The first one, oddly, was about the five dollar bill.

"You're my patient now," she said. "That was a retainer, for services yet to be rendered."

"You need to talk to me?" he asked, confused.

"I need you to be my patient," she said. "The doctor/patient privilege kicked in when you became my patient. You paid for Lacey, too, by the way."

"She remembered things?" he asked, anxiously.

"I'm right here, Bob," said Lacey, looking miffed.

"I hypnotized her," said Claire, also ignoring the other woman in the room. "Yes, some things came out. She and I have already talked about how we're going to proceed. We've just scratched the surface."

"What should I do?" asked Bob.

"Take her home," said Claire. "We talked about you. I'll let her tell you that part. We're all tired, and we all need some rest. I'll be in touch with you."

"But..."

"Go on!" she said, giving him a push toward Lacey. "We're taking things slowly. Just be patient."

In the car, Bob didn't know what to say.

"What happened?" he finally asked.

"We talked for a while. She hypnotized me. I don't remember anything about that. Then we talked a little bit more ... about you and me."

"What about us?" he asked.

"She told me I was married before. Before you. I don't remember. She's going to help me remember later. She found that out while I was hypnotized. I never even thought about my last name." She sounded puzzled. "I wonder why I wouldn't remember about being married?"

"You weren't very happy with him," said Bob.

"I guess not!" she retorted. She looked at Bob. "She says we've never made love."

Bob glanced over. "I wanted to tell you, but you were so certain."

"I AM certain! I remember every bit of it!" She slumped. "She said that is a manufactured memory ... something I must have wanted to be true."

"How do you feel about that?" he asked.

"I love you," she said simply. "It's what I feel. I remember your arms around me ... I remember ... very intimate things. I'm so embarrassed!"

"Don't be," he said. "I fell in love with you too. I wanted to do all those things ... but I couldn't ... not if you'd remember later that it was all false."

"You love me?" Her voice held hope.

"I do," he said. "But I want your love for me to be genuine ... not something you've made up."

"But I FEEL it!" She had frustration in her voice. "How could it be false if I still FEEL it?" She reached out to touch him. "I know what she said, but right now I want nothing more than to be in your arms."

"I don't know what to do," he said helplessly.

"Take me home," she said.

"I am," he replied.

"I mean YOUR home ... where I slept last night."

"Honey, you have no idea how hard it was for me to resist you last night," he moaned.

"Who said anything about you having to resist me?" she said, her hand sliding to his lap. "I don't care what Doctor Montgomery said. I know how I feel about you. It isn't false. I love you, Bob." She licked her lips. "And you love me. That's all that matters."

In his apartment, she walked around looking at things again.

"I can't remember seeing these things before last night," she said, reaching out to stroke an Indian pot he'd bought on a trip to Arizona. "But I feel right, here. It just feels right."

She came to him and kissed him. She didn't rub her pelvis against him, this time.

"Take me to bed, Bob," she whispered into his mouth.

"I want to," he moaned.

"I know what you were afraid I'd remember," she said. Now she DID rub her pussy against his prick. "I know you didn't want to take advantage of me. I know my memories of what we've done are false. The only thing that bothers me about that is that, apparently, I've never really felt the joy of you making love to me. I remember it ... now I want to feel it."

She stripped naked, in front of him, saying nothing. She watched him, watching her. She cupped her breasts.

"Have you really never tasted these?" she asked.

"No," he whispered, licking his lips.

"I want you to. I want to see if it feels as good as I remember it feeling." She pinched her nipples. "Oh, please hurry, Bob. I NEED you."

He fumbled with his clothes, ending up standing, naked, across from her. She was four feet away. They examined each other like eight year olds playing "you show me yours, and I'll show you mine."

She suddenly turned and ran to the bedroom. He heard her jump on the bed, a full body landing, that made the bed bounce her back up into the air.

"HURRY!" she wailed.

It was surreal, for both of them. She offered her body willingly, knowing, even if she didn't understand it, that this had never really happened before. That offering gave him the permission he had craved. Her running commentary only inflamed him more.

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