Group Therapy

<p><strong style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>From the <em>Wall Street Journal</em> bestselling author of <em>44 Chapters About 4 Men</em> (</strong><strong>inspiration for the Netflix Original Series <em>Sex/Life</em></strong><strong style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>) comes a fun forbidden romantic comedy about an inexperienced psychologist and her ultra-famous client.</strong><span style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)> </span></p><p><br></p><p><span style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>I am</span><strong style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)> </strong><span style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>thiiiiis close to finally becoming a full-fledged psychologist. PhD? Check. Prestigious postdoc position providing therapy to entitled millionaires and</span><strong style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)> </strong>C-list celebrities whose pumpkin spice lattes cost more than my Converse and make excellent projectiles during their reality TV-worthy tantrums? Check. Letter of recommendation from my velociraptor-like supervisor? </p><p><br></p><p><em>That's</em> going to take a miracle. Not only because my boss said I have to cure our most-prized client's writer's block in time for him to meet his insane deadline but also because that client just so happens to be ...</p><p><br></p><p>Thomas F*@%ing O'Reardon. </p><p><br></p><p>Yeah <em>that</em> Thomas O'Reardon. The wickedly brilliant achingly beautiful devastatingly British best-selling author whose psychological thrillers line my bookshelf at home and whose face I might or might not picture while I ... you get the point. Sitting in a confined space with him; inhaling the crisp clean scent of his cologne; gazing into his broody blue eyes while trying to remember to nod and listen and come up with suggestions that don't involve taking our clothes off ... it's torture. </p><p><br></p><p>So when Thomas casually asks me out at the end of a therapy session I'm forced to make an impossible choice: say yes and risk losing my dream job or say no and risk losing my dream guy. In a panic I blurt out a third option-the only solution I can think of that will allow me to see this man after hours <em>without</em> it being considered a career-ending ethics violation: </p><p><br></p><p><em>Group therapy.</em></p><p><br></p><p><span style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>The only problem? I've never actually done group therapy. And side problem: my other clients are ... a handful. But what's the worst that could happen? I mean it's not like I'm going lose all control of the group and let it devolve into a chaotic bloodthirsty topless fight club.</span></p><p><br></p><p><span style=color: rgba(15 17 17 1)>Right? </span></p>