Mia scrolled through the photo gallery until a picture caught her eye. Most of them were the same kind of thing, and in Mia's humble opinion, they were a monument to how vapid and self centred the younger generations were. Pictures of Anna from a high angle. Pictures of Anna in front of a beach, smiling with her friends. Pictures of Anna holding an exotic looking cocktail. In every instance, Anna was wearing almost nothing, flaunting her tanned, toned body and broadcasting it on the internet for anyone to see. Mia really disapproved of this -- that attention seeking, approval driven behaviour, fuelled by instant gratification. But still, she prided herself on never letting her views on such people show publicly or impact how she did her job. Mia couldn't deny that she was the kind of person she was looking for. She ought to feel sympathy for the poor girl, not contempt. The Doctor was very clear about that.
The photo she settled on showed a particularly generous amount of cleavage. She downloaded it to her phone, then started composing a message to Doctor Stewart.
"I think she might be suitable, Doctor," the message read. She attached the photo and hit send.
The Doctor was such a kind, generous man. During their last chat, he'd asked her if there was anybody she knew who might be able to use his special kind of help. Mia had jumped at the chance. He'd helped her
so
much, and she strongly believed that he could do the same to so many people out there in the world. Her heart was filled with warmth at the thought of referring people to him. It was such a helpful thing to do, and more than anything else in the world, Mia wanted to be helpful.
With that task under control, Mia decided to clean up the kitchen. It was a kitchen she was proud of, and she intended to keep it that way. She started by clearing the marble bench tops. She'd gone a little bit crazy with breakfast this morning, but she just felt so energised and oddly satisfied. It almost didn't bother her when she found a stack of dirty plates in the sink from some kind of midnight snack that Isabella had prepared for herself and another of her gentleman friends. She killed the impulse to go up to her room and knock on her door.
It's very important to maintain a wall between us
, she thought.
Doctor Stewart was so wise like that. The best way to solve a conflict was by not having one, after all. If she just didn't think about it, and didn't see her roommate, then problems couldn't arise. She felt so much better after speaking with him last week. She could scarcely even recall what it was that she'd been so mad at her about, and that was the way she liked it. Not that Bella was making it easy for her to stay this way -- it was almost like she was trying to piss her off -- but ultimately, Mia knew that being the bigger person would pay off long term. The week without Bella had been blissful thus far. She renewed her smile as she started washing the dishes. It was the helpful thing to do.
She heard a notification chime coming from the table, and she eagerly moved to check it. It took a moment to take off the gloves and dry her hand, but it was well worth the effort -- she felt
so good
when she saw that it was the Doctor.
"She's very pretty. She meets the criteria?" the message read.
"Yes," she replied. "She's highly vulnerable. She lives alone and moved here at the end of last year. She trusts me."
As she looked over what she just wrote, it occurred to her that this might sound shady out of context. It all made perfect sense, actually, and it wasn't bad at all.
Doctor Stewart had told her what kind of people he was looking for in his practice. He wanted most of all to help the vulnerable and the needy. It was really quite moving. The most vulnerable people were those who lived alone, he'd explained, and those without support networks or people to miss them. They were prone to bouts of depression or mood disorders.
Of these people, the most vulnerable in turn were young, attractive women. They were so often the target of harassment and other far worse behaviours. She was so grateful that Doctor Stewart had such empathy and compassion for women, it really was a rare thing among the men she'd known. She could tell it meant so much to him from the way he emphasised it, then made her repeat it back to him. The fact that Anna trusted her was just going to make her that much more likely to be open to getting help. So many people out there need help, but are too frightened or anxious to seek it out. In some cases they didn't even know they needed it!
The Doctor needed to confirm that the women were attractive, of course, so she would have to find the most flattering pictures of them to send to him. While she did like to think she had an eye for aesthetics, Mia wasn't gay, so as Doctor Stewart explained she couldn't possibly be the final word in who was the most in need of his help. It really was all quite logical. She chuckled a bit at the thought of someone misconstruing it all.
"Thank you, Mia, you've been very helpful. I'll be in touch."
Mia was flush with pride, and maybe something else, something more primal. She felt one of her hands reaching down below, but caught it mid-flight.
No!
She thought. She felt gross for having even the hint of such a thought. It was absolutely, positively unchristian, and she was never going to let herself get duped into that kind of thing again. She just hoped that he'd be back in touch soon. She did so want to be helpful for him again.
* * *
Mia hated her job. It wasn't that the work itself was bad. Perhaps a little of that. But being the HR manager for a medium sized corporation had plenty of upsides, too. The salary was great for one thing, and the benefits were hard to argue with. It certainly gave her a good overview of the staff and a solid understanding of the most vulnerable among them, which was very helpful. Really what she loathed was that she struggled to get close to anybody there. Some people liked her well enough, but they just had so little in common. Sensing her general disinterest in them, most of the staff kept a respectful distance.
It was therefore quite an unusual occurrence when, as she sauntered through the lobby on the second floor towards her office, James from accounting made an obscene gesture towards her. It was unmistakable -- he'd just given her finger guns. The accompanying sound, a "chk chk" had also definitely passed his lips.
"Good morning?" she said.
"It certainly is," he said, winking. Mia's face tried to frown harder, but could not.
James was not a pleasant man. She'd had multiple reports about him making inappropriate jokes cross her desk in the last few years, and while he had pulled his head in since then, she still found it uncomfortable to be around him. She always got the sense that the mask might slip at any moment and he'd be caught on tape hurling ethnic slurs or groping somebody at a work party. Fortunately, he continued on past her with no further comment and headed for the elevator. She simply didn't know what to make of it.
On her way through the office, it felt like something was different. Something was slightly off-kilter. At first she dismissed it as just being hypersensitive following that odd encounter, but she definitely noticed some sly glances, giggles that stopped as soon as she came around a corner as though she was catching people doing something they shouldn't be.
When it came to looking through resumes, Mia greatly preferred having printed, physical copies. There was a certain satisfaction she found in seeing the in-pile shrink and the out-pile grow. When she sat down ready to get to work with a fresh cup of coffee, she was greeted by just such a stack, but didn't even have time to get past the cover letter on the top of the pile before a head poked into her office.
"Heeeyyyyy," said Cordelia. "Got a minute?"
Cordelia was wearing a summery dress, which Mia could not help but note was not in fitting with the season. Her face bore a huge grin, which worried Mia deeply.
"Sure, come on in," Mia replied in the friendliest voice she could muster.
She leapt through the tiny crack in the door and shut it behind her before settling into a seat facing Mia. It was a spacious office, so even sitting there she was still a touch farther away than was comfortable for a one on one. Cordelia leaned forward over her side of the mahogany desk to bridge the gap. The smile could only mean one thing -- gossip. Mia idly fidgeted with the cup of coffee on her desk just to give her hand something to do, although it was still a bit too hot to hold for an extended period.
"So..." Cordelia said. "How did it go?"
"How did
what
go?"
Cordelia giggled. Mia was still waiting to see where this was all going, but her mind did a quick scan of the woman to determine if she thought she might need some therapy. She did want to be helpful. Cordelia was in her late twenties, only a few years younger than Mia, and she
was
quite pretty, or at least Mia thought that she probably was, with long red hair and rather striking green eyes. Only Doctor Stewart could tell for sure. She made a mental note to check whether Cordelia lived with anybody or was in any relationships before she left for the evening.
"You know,
last night
." Cordelia tilted her head and gave a knowing look.
"I'm not sure we're on the same page."
"Oh you're going to make me say it, aren't you."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, so it's looking that way."
"
James
," Cordelia said, almost in a whisper. "A little birdy told me that you two... you know..."
What?!
