“I can help you with that. When are you free?”

  We go over my availability and quickly find a date and time that works.

  “We’ll send you a text to remind you of the appointment, Ms. Francis. Is that okay?”

  “Yeah, fine. Thank you.”

  “Of course! Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything else,” the receptionist hums before hanging up. The line goes dead and I toss the phone next to my laptop.

  There. It’s done. I have an appointment with the mouth-wateringly handsome Dr. Northing, and there’s no going back. It’s a done deal and it’s going to happen. I should be nervous, but instead, all I feel is eager. After all, he’s exactly my type, with those broad shoulders and wide chest. His gorgeous face dances before my eyes and I feel myself beginning to moisten.

  Stop it! the voice in my head scolds. He’s a doctor, for crying out loud. Stop acting like he’s going to touch you down there.

  But what if he does? What if that’s part of his vibrational healing practice? It would make sense, wouldn’t it? Suddenly, I can’t wait for my appointment next week, and a coy smile dawns on my face as I think of seeing Brett Northing again.

  4

  Chloe

  I stand outside the Sensation Healing office twenty minutes before my appointment, bracing myself to enter. The tall, thin building is nestled between a frozen yogurt shop and a small organic grocery store. It looks like it takes up two floors, and then the building turns into apartments, just like most of New York City.

  “Okay, Chloe, you can do this,” I say, trying to give myself a pep talk. It’s Tuesday afternoon, so there aren’t many people around to see me talking to myself. Then again, so many people talk into earpieces that I don’t think anyone would give me a second glance.

  My phone rings in my pocket.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “I snuck out of the office to call you,” Maggie whispers loudly into the phone. “Are you at your appointment?”

  “I’m at the office.”

  A taxi honks behind me.

  “Oh good, you’re standing outside, right?”

  I sigh.

  “Yep. I still have like fifteen minutes before my appointment.”

  “Go in!” my friend urges. “You might have to fill out paperwork.”

  I sigh.

  “I’m nervous Mags because this is insane. I don’t even know what I’m doing here. This frequency healing stuff could be total quackery.”

  “What you mean, you don’t know what you’re doing? You’re going to get your orgasm!” she says loudly. There’s a strange echo as she talks.

  “Are you in the bathroom at work?” I ask.

  “Maybe,” she admits.

  I laugh. “Are you alone at least?”

  Suddenly, a toilet flushes loudly, so clearly she isn’t. Damnit. I can add another person to the list of people who know I can’t have an orgasm. This is what I get for sharing such an intimate detail with my friends.

  “You can do this, Chloe. Just go in there and hear what he has to say,” Maggie urges.

  “Okay,” I say. “If it sucks, I’m blaming you.”

  She laughs. “That’s fine. Have fun, and I want to hear all about it.”

  I promise to call her soon with all of the details while rolling my eyes. I don’t really want to share what happens, but somehow, it seems like I always end up telling my friends about the most personal details.

  Heaving a huge sigh, I pull open the door and walk in.

  To be honest, the office looks normal, like a standard doctor’s office. The bland, neutral waiting room only has four chairs. There are a few old magazines are scattered on the table in the middle of the room, and in the corner, a TV silently plays some sitcom.

  On the left hand wall, there’s a plexiglass sliding window with a bored receptionist sitting behind it. I walk up and manage a hesitant smile.

  “Hi,” I say. “Um. I’m Chloe Francis. I have an appointment.”

  The receptionist slowly looks up from her magazine and snaps her gum before opening the window. “Okay?”

  Well, this is definitely not the woman who made my appointment. That woman was bubbly and cheerful, whereas this receptionist is acting like she’s going in for a root canal or something. How do you get a job as a receptionist if you can’t treat people with basic human decency? My stomach sinks. This appointment is off to a bad start already. I knew I should’ve skipped while I still could.

  “Um, I’m Chloe Francis. It’s my first time here. Is there anything I need to fill out?” This should be obvious, but clearly I’m going to have to take the lead.

  The woman snaps her gum again and grabs a clip board before thrusting it through the small opening.

  “You can fill this out.”

  “Great, thanks. Do you need my insurance card or anything?” I ask. That’s usually the first thing I hand over at doctor’s appointments.

  The woman laughs. She’s not wearing a name tag so I have no idea what to call her.

  “Sweetheart, we don’t take insurance because they don’t cover this kind of care. You’ll be billed afterwards.”

  Oh shit. I suspected this because during my googling, I found out that alternative healing methods aren’t usually included as part of standard insurance plans. I was hoping my plan would be different, but apparently not.

  Before I can ask what the fee will be, the receptionist closes the window and goes back to her magazine. I catch a glimpse of the front and realize it’s Women Weekly. How ironic that this brat receptionist is reading the magazine I write for. I would tell her, but I doubt she would care.

  I find a pen on a nearby table since the helpful receptionist didn’t give me one. The form is pretty simple to fill out because it just asks for my name, my height, my weight, and the other usual stuff. There’s also a spot at the bottom where I’m supposed to write why I’m here, but I can’t bring myself to put the words down on paper, so I leave that section blank.

  The receptionist isn’t at the window anymore when I finish. Damnit. I’m really not getting the best vibe from this place. How am I supposed to do any healing when the atmosphere is this cold?

  Before I can knock, she returns with a coffee, sitting down like nothing’s wrong.

  “Here,” I say stiffly, handing her the clipboard.

  “Great,” she replies, cracking her gum again. “That’ll be a hundred and fifty dollars.”

  My jaw drops at the cost. A hundred and fifty dollars just for a first appointment? Maggie didn’t mention how expensive this would be.

  I fumble with my wallet. I have that much in cash, but I wasn’t expecting to spend it all today. If anything, it was supposed to last the entire week for groceries and whatnot. Shit. I’ll have to do some budgeting if this is going to be a regular thing. Then again, based on this not-so-warm welcome, I don’t anticipate a return.

  The receptionist takes my money without blinking and starts to close the window, dismissing me, but I put my hand in the way so she can’t.

  “Can I get a receipt?” I ask snidely. I don’t really need one, but I like the idea of annoying her.

  “Seriously?” she asks.

  I nod.

  “I need it for my records. Please. Thank you.”

  The woman sighs, but she prints out a receipt for the payment and hands it over to me. “The doctor will see you soon.”

  I stomp back to my chair and sit down. I’m beginning to think this frequency healing stuff is fake. The website may have been official-looking but this office is not professional in the least. Who hired that woman?

  I glance towards the exit. Is there any way I can get my money back and leave now, before I’ve seen the doctor? I don’t see anything that says ‘no refunds’ so maybe I have a chance.

  I’m about to stand up and demand my money back when she calls my name.

  “We’re ready. Head to the back, and Dr. Northing will be with you shortly.”

  She doesn’t point me where to go, but there’s only one door that isn’t the exit. The temptation to run is still there, but Maggie’s voice rings in my head: It worked for Evelyn. Sighing, I walk through the door to find a short, non-descript hallway and on the right side, there’s a sign that says ‘Exam Room 1.’ I assume that’s where I’m supposed to be.

  I open the door and inside, there’s one of those normal doctor-bed things with a paper covering. I hate sitting on those, so I take a seat in a chair instead.

  My phone chimes with a text from Maggie.

  Have you met him yet?

  I text back.

  No. Still waiting.

  She responds with a series of celebration emojis and hearts. What the? I wish I shared her enthusiasm. Instead, I’m mapping a line to the exit. At this point, my mood is so horrible that I don’t even need the hundred and fifty dollars back. I just don’t want to be here.

  To keep myself from making a run for it, I let my eyes roam the room. There are a few regular doctor office paintings on the wall: one is a farmhouse with rolls of hay and horses grazing in a field, while the other is a beach scene, complete with shells littering the sand and a seagull flying above the ocean. It makes me wonder who did the interior decorating, because these pictures do not go together.

  Interestingly though, there’s no literature on the walls like at a normal doctor’s office. Usually by now I’d have read about ten different diseases I need to be vaccinated for, plus a reminder about regular exercise and annual check-ups. It’s nice to not be assaulted by all this information, but I do wish there were some energy healing explanations for me to peruse. At least it would give me something to do.

  Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, distracting me from my thoughts. I steel myself. This is it. There’s no turning back now.

  “Come in,” I manage in a semi-normal voice.

  The door opens and the air whooshes out of my lungs. Oh my god, it really is him. The gorgeous Brett Northing is here in the flesh, and my heart races as my temperature goes up. Does he remember me? He’s absolutely mouth-watering with broad shoulders and bronzed skin, not to mention those flashing blue eyes and thick black hair.

  “Sorry about that. Ms. Francis, is it? I had some paperwork to finish up, and I didn’t mean to keep you waiting so long. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Brett Northing.”

  My mouth opens but no words come out. Oh no. How am I supposed to talk with him when he’s so goddamn beautiful? I try to get some words out but my mouth literally open and closes like a dying fish. Oh god, oh god. He must think I’m an idiot.

  Finally, I manage to stammer.

  “Hi.”

  That’s all I can say? My cheeks flush and my nipples tighten. I’m literally burning up, although the A/C is on.

  The good doctor grins, as if sensing my arousal.

  “Great to meet you Ms. Francis. So tell me,” Brett says, pulling me from my thoughts. “What brings you in today? How can I help you?”

  Oh, Dr. Northing. The time has finally come.

  5

  Brett

  The woman sitting before me is hands down beautiful. Her dark, curly hair is pulled back in a ponytail and her brown eyes stare up at me, with a mixture of curiosity and … arousal? Honestly, it’s not that uncommon. When female patients meet me for the first time, they often flush hard and start stammering because of my good looks. I’m not saying this to be conceited. It’s just a fact.

  But there’s something familiar about this patient. Have we met before? According to her chart, she lives here in the city. Oh shit, I hope I haven’t had a drunken hook-up with her because that would be awkward, to say the least.

  Discreetly, I glance at her chart again. It’s pretty straightforward. Her height and weight are listed, along with her age, but the question about why she came to my office was left blank. That’s unsurprising because a lot of patients do this. Most people come here hoping I’ll tell them what they need because they’re too embarrassed to say it out loud.

  “So, Ms. Francis,” I say conversationally. She jerks, trembling a bit. “What brings you in today?”

  Chloe blushes, and I take a moment to look her over discreetly. She has a beautiful face, but her body is even more gorgeous, with lush curves and creamy skin. Holy cow, those breasts are huge and made for suckling. I’d love to get my lips on that.

  But I force myself to look away because I shouldn’t be ogling a patient, no matter how attractive she is. Yet I’m curious about this Chloe. Why is she here? Girls like this don’t usually come seeking my help.

  Chloe swallows hard.

  “Um,” she says, still unable to answer my question while looking away. I understand. A lot of people are worried when they come to my office, and part of my job is to make them feel more comfortable.

  I roll my chair a bit closer to her. Electricity dances between us but I ignore it, seeking to remain professional.

  “Let’s start off easy,” I begin in a soothing tone. “Do you have any questions you want me to answer? Frequency healing has been around forever, but it only recently entered mainstream consciousness. How much do you know about my practice?”

  Chloe lets out a small giggle.

  “Actually, I tried to do some research, but it was really confusing. If you don’t mind, could you give me the layman’s version of what you do?”

  I smile.

  “Sure no problem.”

  I pull a pamphlet from the drawer against the wall of the exam room and hand it to Chloe.

  “Take this and read this over quickly. Just give me a sec because I’m going to grab another packet from my office. I’ll be right back.”

  Chloe nods and blushes again, smiling shyly at me. Then I head out to my office and grab a stapled stack of papers I keep for the more difficult patients. I have a feeling, just by looking at Chloe, she’s going to take some convincing. She seems like the type of person who asks a lot of questions, and I have nothing against that type of person. Frequency healing is what it is, and there are proven results.

  I return and hand the stapled stack of papers to her.

  “Ready for my spiel?” I ask.

  She giggles.

  “After reading this pamphlet, I think I get it better now, but yeah, I’d love to hear your explanation.” She leans forward slightly, alert and attentive, and the position causes her breasts to strain against her t-shirt. Oh shit, I’m going to lose my mind. Struggling, I force my eyes to focus on her face and smile professionally.

  “So, vibrational healing, or frequency healing, looks at your body’s energy. Everything has its own frequency, including different parts of your body. We call that ‘resonance.’ Sometimes a part of your body gets out of resonance, which creates problems like disease or pain, and we treat those imbalances and disharmonies with different vibrational frequencies. The goal is to get those parts that have fallen out of resonance back into the right frequency.”

  She nods.

  “But how exactly does it work? Like, how do you get the parts to start vibrating correctly or whatever?”

  I nod.

  “Good question. It depends on the part of body we’re treating,” I say. “Just as with traditional medicine, different illnesses and pains, and different body parts require different treatments. For example, I wouldn’t prescribe the same treatment for neck pain as I would for a sprained ankle.”

  She nods.

  “That makes sense, but are there standard types of treatments? Like, a traditional doctor would prescribe antibiotics if I had a bacterial infection, right? So is there something similar for frequency healing?”

  I nod. Smart girl.

  “Yes, definitely. There are a lot of standard therapies in play today. For example, flower and gem essences are something many practitioners deploy on a regular basis for a multitude of problems.”

  “Flower and gem essences?” she asks, nose wrinkling. “What’s that?”

  I nod.

  “Flower and gem essences are derived from particular gems and flowers that grow and exist at specific frequencies. The essences are distilled into their purest form, and then applied to specific body parts to help these body parts return to their static state. Does that make sense?”

  Chloe looks a little pensive.

  “Honestly, not really, but at the same time, I’m sure if you show me, I’ll have a better understanding. Sometimes show is better than tell,” she says in a wry voice.

  I nod.

  “Yeah, definitely. It’s hard to describe some of our therapies using words alone, but when you put them into practice, they can and will make a huge difference.”

  “You want to give it a try?”

  She giggles a bit.

  “You mean the flower stuff?”

  I laugh too.

  “No, not exactly that. Well yes, depending on what you’re looking for. But what are you here for, sweetheart? I haven’t heard you describe your ailment yet.”

  She bites her lip, her cheeks growing pink again. Her mouth opens like she’s about to speak, but then she bites her lip again.

  “I hope you don’t think my questions are stupid.”

  I place my hand on her small one. God, her palm is so soft and silken.

  “None of your questions are silly,” I assure her. “I’m here to make you feel comfortable. Fire away.”

  She bites her lip again and shifts a bit on the exam room table.

  “Well, my friend suggested I come,” she explains slowly. “Because … well … um …”

  Chloe’s cheeks flush a deeper red, her bosom heaving, and I shift in my seat and think about grandmas and dying puppies to prevent the erection starting to form in my pants.

  “Flower essences are only one tool in my toolbox,” I say in a soothing voice. “If you share with me why you’re here, I can help tailor a treatment plan for your specific concern.”

  She looks around, her eyes landing on every surface of the room yet still avoiding me. What could this issue possibly be? I’ve never had a patient so embarrassed to tell me what’s wrong.

 

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