A Conflict of Interest. Anna Adams

to worry. The rats will swim back to the ship.”

      Maria laughed for what felt like the first time since the trial had ended. “I know you grew up with Griff’s mother and aunt, but thanks for being on my side, too, Beth.”

      “You didn’t know you could count on us?” Beth started toward the sidewalk. “Thanks to you, my son acts like any normal teen. He doesn’t lurk in his room. He gets angry with me and resents Aidan and loves his baby sister.” She peered back, her hair flying in the cold wind. “My child is interested in life because you treated him. You are a hero at our house.” Beth lifted her hand in a brief wave. “Bad stuff fades if you wait it out. Isn’t that what you told Eli?”

      “I just needed someone to remind me. See you next Saturday.”

      LEILA HAD stood him up again. From his colorful red chair in La Fiesta’s window, Jake watched a crew arguing over dead bulbs as they strung the last of the holiday twinkle lights in the market.

      He checked his watch. Also dead. Then he pulled out his phone to see the time. He got a jolt as he read the ID of a missed caller. The Psychology Review Board. He’d dialed them and finally gone as far as letting the phone ring before hanging up.

      Nice. Grown man so distracted by a need for sex that he’d betrayed the rules he lived by—do the right thing. Don’t sway justice. Don’t cheat on your wife. Don’t abandon your daughter to day care and teenage angst. Be objective and do the right thing, even when it hurts.

      Calling the review board had hurt. This time, doing the right thing could destroy someone else. Maria’s practice might not survive investigation. At least in Honesty.

      A sudden movement caught Jake’s eye. Outside, halting so suddenly her scarf lifted in the cold breeze to touch her face, was Maria. She was tired, and weariness only made her look more fragile. The sweet curve of her mouth made him drop the phone.

      She took a deep breath and pulled her mittens out of her coat pocket. He felt hot as he recalled furtively shoving the dropped one in her mailbox after a visit to his Aunt Helen, who lived in Maria’s neighborhood. Maria watched him, with a kind of hungry concentration that reflected all his desire for her. Shaking her head, she plunged into the crowd on the street and walked away from him.

      He picked up his phone. There was the board’s number—orange on black. To call, he had to push one button.

      He pushed the off button instead and dropped the phone onto his folded coat. Why did he feel so damn guilty?

      A FEW DAYS LATER, Maria was in her office, going over notes for her earliest appointment, when the door opened and a man she’d never seen before entered.

      “Dr. Keaton?” he asked, looking official in a crisp suit, snowy shirt and thin black tie.

      “Do you have an appointment?” Obviously not, but she was stalling for time to assess the stranger. The whispering that had dirtied her name in the past couple of weeks had made her wary.

      “I have this,” he said, pulling a letter out of his pocket. “From the Psychology Review Board.”

      Ah. Thank you, Buck Collier.

      She took the envelope, willing her hand not to tremble. “Thank—” she started, but he turned and left before she finished. The ultimate show of disdain.

      Instead of his face, she saw Jake’s, his expression closing as all his worst suspicions were confirmed by this letter. She tried to see what Beth had seen—his hands on hers, his head bent toward her with concern.

      She shook her head, trying to free herself. Wanting too much from Jake was no answer.

      She peeled back the envelope’s flap, knowing she was suspended, that the Psychology Review Board would be investigating Griff’s accusations. She had to reach the few clients who’d stood by her, reassure them that they would be all right.

      The letter was brief. She was ordered to cease treatment of all clients, and not to offer her services unless and until the investigation cleared her.

      Despite her assumptions, seeing it in print was a punch in the gut. The paper slipped through her fingers, onto the blotter.

      Her job was everything. Opening her own practice had assured her of a chance to stay whole, never to depend on anyone else for her safety.