Million Dollar Man

Million Dollar Man: Chapter Five || Truth and Trust

Thursday came around again, painfully slowly. Michael's morning plans were disrupted by an early telephone call from someone at the studio. Bringing him a large helping of drama in the form of a stressed conversation about a broken pipe on one of the sets. It was more trouble he didn't need and despite being elected to remedy the situation, short of calling around for an emergency plumber, there was little else he could do.

However, the production assistant insisted on talking aimlessly about the problems the incident had caused on set, piling on more and more stress with each word, and testing Michael's resolve to control his anger. Worst of all, the phone call had eaten up so much time, making him run late. Frustrated, he quickly showered and dressed, eager to hit the road and make it across town in time for his much needed therapy session.

To his surprise Amanda was awake early enough to see him leave. She stopped him on the stairs to ask where he was headed so early, and he didn't lie. He told her therapy was the only thing that would keep him sane and in reply she'd joked that he'd need far more than that.

For some reason tone of her voice made it a clear insult, and immediately the impact of her words joined forces with the stresses of his new career, and a black cloud popped up above his head. Souring his mood and causing him to storm out of the house without another word to his long suffering wife.

The unusually heavy cross-town traffic did nothing to better his outlook on the day as he sped across town for the little enclave near Chumash, that was fast being looked upon as a sanctuary away from all the irritants in his life.

Sliding off the highway, he followed along his therapists beachside street once more and pulled up onto her driveway, parking next to a new looking carbon black Obey Rocoto. For a second he worried the car belonged to another patient, but even though he was running late, it was far too early for someone else to have taken his slot.

Without sparing another moment to over think things, he got out of his car and headed to the front door, trying to focus his mind away from the rousing anger that was simmering away inside him as he looked around for a buzzer. Finding one on the wall to his right, he pushed it firmly and hoped that despite being late she would still welcome him inside. If she didn't, there was no doubt that he'd be back in the car looking for the nearest place to get drunk before noon.

A few moments passed without response, and he quickly grew impatient. Beginning to consider ground around back to the shoreline and pitching rocks at her windows to get her attention, but before he could put that thought into action, the door buzzed to life and clicked open inviting him inside.

He jogged up the short flight of stairs, and found the inner door was open ready for him. He strode straight in, with the foul mood piggy backing in on him, but as soon as his eyes found the ocean view outside it fell away. The storm in his head breaking up and allowing a little sunlight in, calming the bitterness inside some, as he stood looking out, mesmerized by the shimmering waters.

"Hey!" her voice called out to him from across the room. He turned his head to where the sound came from, and found she in the dining area, standing over an open laptop and some files that were spread over the table.

"Hey Doc. Sorry I'm late." he said, taking off his purple lens aviators and popping them into the breast pocket of his dark grey sports coat, allowing him a better look at her.

"No problem." she insisted, not wanting him to feel pressured in anyway.

"How's things?" he asked her, his instinct to make small talk, as his eyes wandered up her figure. She was in the heels again, but this time she wore black, high-waisted pants that were loose around her long legs. She was clearly trying to be more conservative in her choice of outfit, but the cotton clung to her shapely ass like a second skin, making him stir inside.