Falling for his charms

I stared at the paperwork doctor Riley's assistant gave me, skimming over the information in the file pertaining to my new client.

Declan Isaacs.

There's a lot to unpack here. He's been in therapy since the age of four. His mother abandoned him when he was just a baby, but came back and seems to have caused a lot of trouble for him and his family.

There's information about a custody battle, abuse allegations, and his journey to overcoming selective mutism. I kept reading further. My heart dropped. Apparently, Mr. Isaacs shot and killed his mother when he was just four years old.

It's going to take a lot of therapy to heal him from this kind of trauma. If that's even possible. Sometimes a client may never experience the freeing feeling of no longer being bound by their trauma, fears, and or problems.

Despite going through years of school in order to get where I am, I still feel so unprepared. I have several clients, but I have yet to deal with one who is this broken.

Luckily, when something is broken most of the time it can be fixed. I'm not saying my clients need fixing, but being in therapy will benefit them greatly in their journey to find healing.

I sighed, setting down the file filled to the brim with notes. After doctor Riley's passing due to old age, all of his clients, except the one I was given were transferred to doctor Newman.

I don't know why he didn't just give doctor Newman all of his clients, but I'm sure he has his reasons. I only wish he were still here so I could ask him.

Before his passing, I spent a bit of time under doctor Riley's wing. Not only am I the youngest in my department, but I'm also fairly new. I've only been working here for a few years now, doctor Riley having taught me nearly everything I know.

But even with his help, I still feel so unprepared. I've never had a client like Mr. Isaacs. I just hope I'll be able to do as good of a job taking care of him as doctor Riley had.

I looked up from the notepad on my lap, the sound of someone knocking on the door filling my ears and tearing me from my worried thoughts.

I cleared my throat and sat up straighter in my chair. "Come in."

The door opened and in walked my newest client- Declan Isaacs.

I was immediately drawn to the tattoos on his arms and neck. There was just so many that it was hard to focus on just one.

A pair of emerald green eyes flickered to me and my heart began to race as my body stiffened. "Welcome Mr. Isaacs," I greeted, forcing out a smile in an attempt to hide how nervous I am.

"Mr. Isaacs is my father," he said lowly. "Please, call me Declan." He took a seat in the dark brown leathered chair across from me, pushing his hips forward to sit manspread.

He was wearing a simple solid white tee shirt and a pair of dark jeans, which he somehow managed to make look oh so attractive. The shirt he was wearing clung to his body, revealing a toned torso underneath.

I swallowed, suddenly needing some water for my parched throat. His green eyes bore heavily into me, his eyes scaling my body slowly. "Aren't you a little young to be a Therapist?"

"Would you prefer someone older?"

"No. You'll do just fine," he murmured, his eyes falling to my legs.

Clearing my throat once more, I tugged at the hem of my black dress, attempting and failing to shield my legs from his hot gaze.