Identity Thief by JP Bloch Read Free Book Online Page A

of Linda Goldstein. The absurd thing was, she was still my patient. She refused to terminate treatment or accept a referral and threatened to report me to the APA if I didn’t let her see me once a week.
    “How have you been since last week?” I asked her on one such occasion, my voice filled with sarcasm.
    “Oh, simply dandy,” she replied, with a malicious, exaggerated smile. “I’m a forty-year-old woman soon to be divorced, pregnant by another man who wants nothing to do with me. Oh, and did I forget to mention that if the divorce doesn’t settle PDQ I’ll get nothing because the ol’ tummy will start to bulge, and Marty’s lawyer will bust me for adultery? What am I supposed to say, that I accidentally swallowed a watermelon?”
    I firmly leaned forward in my swivel chair. “You could tell your husband the child is his and propose a reconciliation, Mrs. Goldstein.”
    “Or you could tell your frigid, asshole wife that she’s going to be a stepmama.”
    I rolled my eyes in exasperation. “I’ve told you like a gazillion times that Esther will take me to the cleaners if she finds out I’ve been cheating again. The best I can do is skim a few grand off the top. She’s not dumb, you know.”
    “Why no, she’s a genius. After all, she married you .”
    “Linda, in all seriousness, what are you going to do? If you take me to court, I lose everything, and you won’t get a dime.”
    “There’s your futur e income, smarty-pants.” She crossed her arms smugly, as if having played the ace of spades. “And anyway, maybe you can hire a better lawyer than Esther and not lose your shirt, like you keep saying.”
    “You don’t know Esther.”
    “Thank God for small miracles.”
    I could feel my face fluster. “ Can’t you leave me alone ?”
    “No. I love you.” Linda jutted out her chin in defiance. Apparently, part of her neurosis was that she literally believed love conquered all.
    I stomped over to her, not sure what I would do, but too angry to sit still. As she recoiled, Linda fell over backward in her chair. I did not bother to help her up. For whatever reason, she set the chair back in its place before standing to face me.
    “That chair cost me a lot of money,” I said. “Be careful with it.”
    I thought she would cry. Instead she started screaming at me. It was like, flip a coin, will it be crying or screaming? “How could you hit me? I’m pregnant , damn it. And with your bloodline, the loin of your flesh.”
    “I didn’t hit you. Hello, we live in the physical dimension of the universe. This is a desk, this is a chair—”
    “No, but you were going to hit me, I could tell.”
    She came at me, aimlessly flailing both fists. I easily grabbed her hands and held them hard. “See what a sick fuck I am?” I hissed at her. “Do you really want to be with me?”
    There was a moment of showdown between our eyes.
    “No, I guess not.” Her icy tone came as a relief. She let go and gathered up her purse and coat.
    Glory Hallelujah, she was finally getting the message.
    “You always win, don’t you?” she said, as though I’d done something illegal.
    “Yeah, right. My life is one great victory after another. I reign supreme over time and space.” I reached in my desk for a bottle of whiskey and took a swallow. I hated that stupid desk. It was this steel and glass contraption that only had one drawer. But Esther had picked it out because it was very trendy, and I guess even though she hated my guts, I deserved nothing but the best. “Let’s hear it for me.”
    “You really are a prick.” Linda gave me the finger.
    “This session is on the house,” I called after her, as she took her leave.
    I felt the relief you feel when a bad tooth gets extracted. The worst was over—or so it seemed—but I still needed to heal. Apropos of this, I went to a fine hotel, found a girl, did what I had to do, and was the better for it.
    For dinner that night, Esther served take-out Indian. She kept