Dear Mystery Guy (Magnolia Sisters Book 1) Read Free Page A

dream. You are stressing out over something; eventually you will get it all down and off your chest and you will be back to normal in no time. Have you ever kept a diary?"
    Della shook her head. "No."
    "Well, consider this your dear diary book." Saffron pushed the book closer to her. "Don't look so doubtful. It is a very useful therapy tool."
    "But I don't have anything that's bothering me lately," Della responded, "apart from the fact that I started a part-time job at the supermarket and my boss is a turd and I have a teeny weeny crush on a guy who doesn't even know that I exist. My life is not that eventful."
    Saffron smiled. "I am guessing that in the last three months something has triggered your dreams. You say you last had them when you were nine or ten and then sixteen and that they are back since three months ago."
    Della nodded doubtfully. "The psychiatrists that I used to see when I was little said that my dreams were a result of my trauma. I was almost murdered when I was little and I can't remember my life before I was nine."
    Saffron gasped. "Really?"
    "Yes," Della shrugged, "the doctors said I have hysterical amnesia but I stopped having the dreams when I started living at Magnolia House and felt secure. When I was around sixteen one of my sisters ran away from the home and the dreams came back. I have no trauma now. I am a little confused about what to do with my life next but...I just don't get why they are back."
    Saffron took off her glasses and wiped them. "But something is triggering your dreams. You may not be able to pinpoint exactly what it is, so I am going to suggest that you write."
    "Write what?" Della asked when Saffron put on her glasses again.
    "Write down what is on your heart, what is happening to you. Just write and then in a couple of weeks you can get back to me and tell me what you have discovered."
    Saffron looked at her watch and then gasped. "Della, I have a department meeting in a few minutes but I have to tell you that writing down your thoughts is a very good way to sort out what it is that is triggering the dreams."
    Della got up with a sigh. She took up the heavy journal reluctantly. All she had to do was write?
    Sounded like her young counselor didn't know what she was talking about. Her life was humdrum and boring; what was there to write about?
    She hadn't said it to Saffron but she already knew what or who was the trigger of her dreams. She had started having her dreams again the day after she saw the mystery guy, which only meant one thing: her problem was heart-based, not head-based.
    She was yearning for someone who was so far out of reach; she was fooling herself.
    Yes, that was it. Her body was telling her to stop the insane crush she had developed on this unsuspecting guy. If only she could. Three months of Thursdays had whetted her appetite for more of this elusive stranger. Her crush was not diminishing; it was growing, and so were her dreams and headaches.
    She left the counselor's building and headed to the Student Lounge. Her phone beeped and she checked it. It was a group text; her sisters Brigid, Caitlin and Hazel were reminding her about dinner. They always tried to meet up on Mondays at Hazel's place.
    Patricia Benedict had gotten Hazel a plum job as companion to an elderly rich guy a few months before. All Hazel had to do was read the newspaper to him in the mornings and give a listening ear as he debated various topics that he found important or interesting. He loved when Hazel argued with him. In return Hazel lived rent free in his gorgeous townhouse.
    The old man frowned on people visiting often but he had no problems with them dropping by once per week.
    That was when Hazel did a major throw-down in the kitchen and demonstrated her skills that she had picked up at culinary school. Hazel liked to refer to them as her culinary guinea pigs. They had no problem with that. They would eat and talk until way into the night when Hazel would drop them home in the