Somewhere on Maui (an Accidental Matchmaker Novel) Read Free Page A

don’t have to go into it again if you don’t want to.”
    “No, it helps to tell someone, I feel a little better for it.” She was surprised to find that she did feel a little better. “So what do you suggest about this online thing?”
    “Just go slow.” Dr. Suzuki glanced at the clock. “Let’s meet twice a week until you begin to get some traction on the changes you’ve made.”
    “All right.” They set up appointments, and Zoe shook the psychologist’s hand as she left. “I’ll report in on my adventures in online dating. I’m sure I’ll have stories by next time.”
    “I still think it might be too soon, but it’s your choice, always.”
    “Well, I’ve signed up for something called Crazy Blind Date, where the computer matches me with someone. I’ve got my first date tomorrow night.”
    “I’m sure that’ll be interesting. I’ll look forward to hearing all about it.”
    Zoe felt a little lighter as she walked to her car, turning to wave at the psychologist, a slender form in the doorway. Dr. Suzuki waved back.
     
     
     
    Adam sat on the low couch, his bare feet crossed at the ankle in front of him. He glanced around at the cool gray walls, the two love seats in beige suede, the peacock fan chair in one corner, the psychologist in a rolling office chair. On the low coffee table before him was a ceramic tray of sand with a little rake, and on the wall opposite, a framed photo of a rainbow over a whale’s tail on a stormy sea. Two bright red pillows brought a pop of color to the ends of the love seats.
    Dr. Suzuki saw his gaze and smiled. “What do you think of the space?”
    “Nice.” He laced his fingers over his stomach, smiled back. “Sends a message of refined elegance and relaxation, with some nice red wealth feng shui thrown in.”
    Dr. Suzuki’s eyebrows rose. He’d surprised her, and he liked surprising people, knocking over stereotypes. “I see you know something about interiors as well as building.”
    “I actually went to college for architecture.” He folded one ankle onto the other knee, brushed a bit of sawdust off his jeans. He wished he’d been able to change, but he’d come on his lunch break from the build site. “I came home from college to Hawaii and had planned to open my own architecture firm, but my father died. This is the family business.”
    “Ah. So you hadn’t planned to be a contractor, then.”
    “No. But it’s fine.” He laced his fingers again. “I had responsibilities. My mom and two sisters, who were still in school, took the contractor test, and the rest is history.”
    Dr. Suzuki made a note on her tablet. She was tall for a Japanese woman, with the kind of skinny frame that made him nervous, as if he’d break something if he touched her.
    “So. I have six sessions with you for anger management. When do we get started?”
    Dr. Suzuki gazed at him. “I can tell you wouldn’t be here if the sessions weren’t assigned to you—but since you are, I suggest you just relax and let us move through the process. You might find it more helpful than you expect. The fifty minutes will go by either way for me.”
    Adam resisted the urge to run his hands through his hair, dust himself down. He didn’t have to impress this woman. As she said, the fifty minutes would go by easy or annoying.
    “Let’s start with a tool. When you feel yourself getting impatient, breathe in through your nose to the count of three, out through your mouth to the count of five. Let’s practice together.”
    She led him through three breaths, and he smiled. “That wasn’t so bad. I’m cured.”
    Dr. Suzuki blinked— then glanced down at her notes. “You have a nice smile. You should do it more often.” She gave a little head shake. “I wish it were that easy, Adam, and I’m glad you found that helpful. I may prompt you or remind you of the technique when I see you getting agitated. It’s the kind of thing that takes some time to become a habit but can really help