“Something bad, okay?” A fresh wave of tears rises to the surface. “Can’t you just trust me and help me? I need you, Luke. You’re the only one who can help me with this.”

He leans forward in the bed and rubs his temples with his fingertips. He doesn’t like what I’m asking him, but I already know he’s going to say yes. He has never said no to anything I have asked of him. I might be falling for him, but he has fallen far harder for me.

“So what do you want me to do exactly?” he finally says.

I sit up straighter in bed. “I’ll get you his apartment keys. You go to his house, get into his computer, and delete any traces of the video.”

“And how are you going to get his keys?”

“Let me worry about that.”

“You know…” He lifts his eyes. “Even if we delete it from his phone and I somehow get into his computer and find the video there and delete any traces of it, he may still have another copy somewhere else.”

“I don’t think he does.” I know EJ, and he’s not organized enough to do something like that.

He drops his head back against the pillow. “I don’t know about this, Adrienne. We could get in a lot of trouble…”

“Please help me, Luke.” I reach for his hand, lacing my fingers into his palm. His hand is so much larger and warmer than mine. “You’re the only one who can help me. I need you. I… I love you.”

It’s a cheap trick. He told me he loved me, and I’m only saying it back now that I need something from him. I do love him, I really do, but the timing of my declaration is more than suspicious.

But amazingly, my shameless tactic works. His face softens, and that guarded expression fades away. He squeezes my hand in his.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll do it.”

Chapter 33

Transcript of Recording

This is session 181 with EJ, a 29-year-old man suffering from narcissistic personality disorder.

“I’m so sorry I had to keep you waiting today.”

“That’s okay, Doc. I appreciate you leaving the bottle of Cheval Blanc on the coffee table. You know that’s my favorite, right? Best doctor’s waiting room in the whole damn town.”

“I knew you’d appreciate it.”

“What can I say? I appreciate a good bottle of wine. What year was it?”

“It’s 1948.”

“Wow. You spare no expense.”

“You’re paying enough to be here. Well, not you anymore. But other people do.”

“Yeah. Too bad…”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, I… I just got this weird lightheaded feeling. Like the whole room was spinning or something.”

“How many glasses of wine did you have?”

“Dunno. I just drank it out of the bottle.”

“All of it?”

“Yeah…”

“Good.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Never mind. Are you okay?”