Page 86 of Pressure

She sucked in a breath. That stung.

“Tell me about college,” the therapist prodded.

He closed his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. “Riss knows my past. It wasn’t exactly pretty. I’d earned an almost full ride to MIT when my parents were killed. I fought tooth and nail to keep my place there. Two years later, someone accused me of cheating, and they kicked me out. After it was discovered that I didn’t cheat, they offered to reinstate me but because I missed a semester, I wasn’t eligible for the scholarship I’d been attending on. At that point, I had enough knowledge to go with the skill I already possessed that I got cocky and said fuck MIT. I found a backer for an app I’d developed, and the rest is history.”

“So, you’re saying you felt like if Marissa saw your attempts to fix things, she would say fuck you and just make you feel worse?”

Beside her, Lance visibly winced and she didn’t blame him.

He turned to her and gave a wry smile. “Of course, you would pick a therapist who doesn’t mind dropping the f bomb.”

Everyone chuckled.

“If I remember correctly, your company is called Moss Industries Tech. Was that another subtle or perhaps not-so-subtle fuck you to MIT?”

Lance bounced a knee up and down. “It was. My goal was, and maybe still is, to make my company come to mind first when someone says the letters MIT.”

The therapist quirked up an eyebrow. “So, your goal is to become more well-known than a nearly one-hundred- and sixty-year-old prestigious university?

Lance gave a terse laugh and wiped both hands down his still bouncing thighs. He was getting antsy.

“I didn’t say it was logical.”

“We aren’t often logical about the things we’re passionate about.”

Marissa stood, suddenly feeling the need for space between them.

“Where are you at right now, Marissa?”

She leaned against the credenza and stared out the window. “I guess I understand what Lance is trying to say, but I would like to think I meant more to him than his petty feud with MIT. Do you know he poaches students from them every year? Gives them full rides to other universities. He purposely finds students he knows MIT is courting and he makes them a better offer to attend Harvard or Caltech. Even if it’s financially irresponsible.”

The therapist raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever considered therapy for yourself, Lance?”

He jerked his head back and forth. “I suggested couples counseling for Riss and I once early in our relationship, but I’ve never considered it for myself. But I would for Marissa.”

The therapist smiled. “That’s thoughtful, but it’s kind of something you have to do for yourself. Marissa came to terms with that and sought me out. But let’s get back to what she just said. Is that true?”

He had the decency to look sheepish. “Yeah. It’s true.”

“Marissa, how did you learn this about Lance?”

Marissa gave a mirthless laugh. “A roommate I had just out of college got the Lance Moss treatment and took a full ride to Caltech.”

“But that’s not how you first learned his name right?”

She shook her head. “We met on a deep web forum and he liked my skills. Offered me a temporary gig on a side project that had nothing to do with his company. Despite his… feud, he’s a good guy and a bit of a social justice warrior. I was a lot of a social justice warrior, so I took the gig. I still didn’t know who he was and a few days later, I met him at a BDSM club. It took a little bit to figure out that he was the same person I’d been talking to online. It just felt like fate was pushing us together.”

Lance stood and moved to the opposite wall, watching Marissa. She squirmed beneath his gaze. How could he be eye-fucking her at a time like this?

“What does all this have to do with anything, Doc?”

“We’re just digging right now. Looking for things that might warrant talking more about. Marissa wants you in her life. You clearly want her in yours. I don’t speculate on my patients’ feelings, but it would make sense if Marissa wasn’t quite sure why you want her? Is she just another trophy of victory to you or are there real feelings that can lead to something long lasting?”

Marissa smiled. The woman knew how to drill down to the heart of things.

Lance swore. “Of course, she’s not a fucking trophy. You really feel that way, Riss?”

Marissa shrugged. “It’s hard not to wonder. I know you say you did a lot to try and fix what you did, but it was all on a very technical level. There was nothing emotional to it. I appreciate it and I’m glad you showed me. But it feels like you spent more time sending Sebastian Forcythe to prison than you did helping me.”

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