Backseat Driver

Tia had told him the story.

He hated everything I wrote for him and finally told me to come in person to his car dealership. He had already paid the marketing company I work for. He stood behind me the whole time as I typed every single word. Eight hours held professionally hostage with only a lunch break reprieve...

Letting her therapist know that at the time had sounded like a good idea.

But if it had led her here...?

Once again, she sat at someone else's keyboard. Once again, there was someone watching as she typed.

"No, that's wrong," he said behind her. "Erase that."

How much? Which part? Why? Tia thought frantically, slipping back into that same dissociated state.

But, no. She had paid the person behind her. He was a professional. This was roleplay. She was ready to get over this.

Ask a question. Break the freeze, she reminded herself.

"Why don't you write it yourself?" Tia demanded, turning to face him. He loomed over her, and she held her ground, standing out of the desk chair. He was still taller than her wearing a suit several pay grades above her.

"Stop," he said, pulling her out of the scene. "What are you afraid of right now?"

Tia froze before readjusting her stance and expression back toward neutral. Her breath was coming fast--a tell.

Damn it, she thought.

Tia didn't shy from his gaze. "Breaking the agreement."

"Why?"

"Because I means would have lied about getting the work to him."

"What would happen if you lied?" Tia tries not to wince as childhood memories begin to resurface.

"No one will want me."

"Was there a time you thought no one wanted you?"

She knew what he was doing. She was familiar with the questions. They had used them together enough times that she could almost say them to herself. Almost.

But, she was tired of going back to the past. She wanted to get over all this.

"Right now," she said. Her therapist paused, still looming, though he had taken a step back. She trusted him, but damn, when he got into character, he played the part. Her breath picked up. She had a feeling she had thrown him for a loop.

"Why don't you think you're wanted right now?" he asked, accepting her answer.

"We... shouldn't," she said, looking him up and down more slowly than was necessary.

"Is that what you wanted from the man before? In the car dealership?" he asked.

"Absolutely not," Tia said, not breaking his gaze, expression unchanging.

"But now...?"

"What if I had?" Tia said defiantly, "What if he had been someone I wanted behind me. What if..."

"Say it," her therapist said when she hesitated.

"... it had been you?"

He nodded toward her, taking another step back.

"What would you have done? If he were me." Her therapist's dark hands hung neutral at his side, his stance relaxed, unbothered. He wasn't making a move on her even though she had practically invited it. Tia was impressed.

"Well, it was a rather public space," Tia said, her eyes remembering off to one side. "So, probably nothing."

"How would you have felt in your body?" her therapist asked. He had returned to the standard questions, but there was an emphasis on the last word, syllables gently elongated. Was she imagining it?

"Warm," she said, closing her eyes, "like I want to be heavier against the chair. Like I want to move--dance, my body softening in invitation."

"Like now?" the therapist asked, and Tia's eyes snapped open, her body stiffening again.

"Well, I'm not sitting like I was then," she said.

"You could fix that." She stared him down, uncertain if they were inside or outside the roleplay anymore. She wasn't sure she wanted to care. Finally, she slowly sat back down in the chair, her fingers returning to the keyboard. She stared at the blank screen. The pre-populated text explained the benefits of purchasing an extended car warranty. She selected all the text with a quick flick of fingers over the keyboard and deleted it. Without looking back at the man, she started typing again.

You can see me typing this. You're the only one watching me type this, in fact. I could say anything I want here, and you would be reading it. Captivated. You can't look away because I'm in your mind, speaking truth to you. You are...

Tia paused, her breath kicking up again as she became self-conscious, the side of her neck tingling with the sensation of being watched. Her therapist put his hand on the back of her chair and leaned forward, the other hand resting on the desk, his body within reach.

"Go on," he said, and she swallowed.

... exactly the person I wanted to find for this role. Except now I want more than what I paid for. I want...

"That's not what you would have said to me if I were there at car dealership. Erase the last two sentences."

Tia shivered, her chest aching. Her breath had not slowed since they had begun. She reached for her water bottle and swished some around in her mouth.

You could have said you wanted to hold someone hostage. I know people who can accommodate such fantasies, she wrote.

"Like whom?" her therapist asked aloud.

Her ribcage was heavy. She wasn't sure she could take a full breath if she tried.

Like me, she wrote.

"And what would that look like?" he asked quietly.

She paused in thought for a moment.

I come back when no one else is here. You tell me what you want me to write. Criticize it all you want. But you need to compensate me.

"How would someone do that?"

Tia looked down and to the side before deleting her last line.

Make it worth my time.

"And what does that mean?"

Tia closed her eyes, imagining all the things she wanted with his man beside her. She wanted to reach out and touch him, reach her hands into his pockets, feel around for his points of pleasure.

Clean test results and a hotel with decent room service, she wrote.

Her therapist chuckled behind her.

"Done," he said, and she turned around in her office chair, mouth agape. "We're done here. The session is over for today," he clarified, and she stared him down as he walked away, ignoring the angry pout on her face.