morning, Dr. Caulfield. It is nice to see you again.”
David smiled. Was she being sarcastic or genuine? He went with the latter.
He ushered her into his office. He really did like his office, he reminded himself. It cost more money, but he had had his office doorjamb customized so that he could accommodate two doors in the same door casing—each closed, giving a feeling of “real privacy” and security. The heavy blinds on the windows helped with privacy as well. While his furniture would be considered “classic” for psychiatry, he liked the post-World War II decor as a matter of preference.
Ms. Littleton sat in the chair just opposite his desk. While his desk was somewhat littered with papers and files, he could find everything he needed much to Michele’s chagrin. She was into color-coding everything. David removed his briefcase from the desk so that he could sit down and actually see Samantha as he talked to her.
“It’s been long time, Dr. Caulfield,” she began, removing her sunglasses in an uncharacteristic gesture of openness.
“Just about six years. I did hear about your graduating nursing school and passing your licensing for your RN.”
“Your written recommendation did get my first job at the veterans’ hospital in addition to college. I always had the sense you were watching me but in a good way. Do you take care of all your former clients this way?”
David could tell it was hard for Samantha not to present herself as seductive. It came naturally to her. David had never acted on her seductiveness and had always been a gentlemen, almost a father figure. He suspected he was a significantly different one than she was used to.
“Actually, yes,” David said honestly. “There have been a number of children and adolescents I have assisted in getting into college and graduate school. Periodically, I have assisted in helping them get their first jobs, but only if I thought I had something to really offer and as long as it did not violate boundaries. You were the first adult I had assisted in such a way. I think it turned out all right … though your original choice of profession has confounded me at times,” David offered.
“Well … I did have a history of providing a service to men for a few years prior. When I chose psychiatric nursing, I thought it would be along the same vein, helping those in need for medical and health issues and not just sexual,” she explained.
“Though truth be told, Dr. Caulfield, I have increased my part-time job. I make three times as much in half the time compared to a full shift of nursing. A noble profession, nursing, but it just doesn’t pay,” Samantha concluded.
David had always thought that. She was one of his successes that he never talked about. He did appreciate that she always paid cash and was remarkably intelligent, but her options in life were limited when she was younger. Her getting sick with cancer and subsequent depression allowed her an opportunity to stop and look at what she really wanted to do with her life. He always recalled that her plan was to “have the power to redefine myself.” He knew a lot of smart people in his life, but her insight into her own future was startling in brilliance for one so young. She did use treatment, and not only did she go back to school and get her degrees, but she also changed her profession … though not entirely. He was always aware that she still kept a number of well-screened clients that paid very well. She was very courageous to make such substantial changes in her life; however, she was also paranoid, and she liked having a backup plan. Prostitution allowed for extra money, flexible times, untaxed and unreported cash flow and allowed for an alter ego. Sam Littleton’s alter ego was “Danielle Spencer.”
“So I take it that Ms. Danielle Spencer is alive and well,” David attempted to confirm.
“Yes. She not only keeps my finances in order and allows me the opportunity to volunteer at
David smiled. Was she being sarcastic or genuine? He went with the latter.
He ushered her into his office. He really did like his office, he reminded himself. It cost more money, but he had had his office doorjamb customized so that he could accommodate two doors in the same door casing—each closed, giving a feeling of “real privacy” and security. The heavy blinds on the windows helped with privacy as well. While his furniture would be considered “classic” for psychiatry, he liked the post-World War II decor as a matter of preference.
Ms. Littleton sat in the chair just opposite his desk. While his desk was somewhat littered with papers and files, he could find everything he needed much to Michele’s chagrin. She was into color-coding everything. David removed his briefcase from the desk so that he could sit down and actually see Samantha as he talked to her.
“It’s been long time, Dr. Caulfield,” she began, removing her sunglasses in an uncharacteristic gesture of openness.
“Just about six years. I did hear about your graduating nursing school and passing your licensing for your RN.”
“Your written recommendation did get my first job at the veterans’ hospital in addition to college. I always had the sense you were watching me but in a good way. Do you take care of all your former clients this way?”
David could tell it was hard for Samantha not to present herself as seductive. It came naturally to her. David had never acted on her seductiveness and had always been a gentlemen, almost a father figure. He suspected he was a significantly different one than she was used to.
“Actually, yes,” David said honestly. “There have been a number of children and adolescents I have assisted in getting into college and graduate school. Periodically, I have assisted in helping them get their first jobs, but only if I thought I had something to really offer and as long as it did not violate boundaries. You were the first adult I had assisted in such a way. I think it turned out all right … though your original choice of profession has confounded me at times,” David offered.
“Well … I did have a history of providing a service to men for a few years prior. When I chose psychiatric nursing, I thought it would be along the same vein, helping those in need for medical and health issues and not just sexual,” she explained.
“Though truth be told, Dr. Caulfield, I have increased my part-time job. I make three times as much in half the time compared to a full shift of nursing. A noble profession, nursing, but it just doesn’t pay,” Samantha concluded.
David had always thought that. She was one of his successes that he never talked about. He did appreciate that she always paid cash and was remarkably intelligent, but her options in life were limited when she was younger. Her getting sick with cancer and subsequent depression allowed her an opportunity to stop and look at what she really wanted to do with her life. He always recalled that her plan was to “have the power to redefine myself.” He knew a lot of smart people in his life, but her insight into her own future was startling in brilliance for one so young. She did use treatment, and not only did she go back to school and get her degrees, but she also changed her profession … though not entirely. He was always aware that she still kept a number of well-screened clients that paid very well. She was very courageous to make such substantial changes in her life; however, she was also paranoid, and she liked having a backup plan. Prostitution allowed for extra money, flexible times, untaxed and unreported cash flow and allowed for an alter ego. Sam Littleton’s alter ego was “Danielle Spencer.”
“So I take it that Ms. Danielle Spencer is alive and well,” David attempted to confirm.
“Yes. She not only keeps my finances in order and allows me the opportunity to volunteer at
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