‘He left you some money.’

Mickey felt her mouth drop open. The first half of that sentence had rung clear and true. The second half had not. Her father was one to take, not give.

After he left them for his new family, Mickey resolved never to think of her father again. She’s fine without him; yes, she drinks, but only sometimes and, really, she can’t not.

But with only $181 to her name, she’s not above attending some mandated therapy to access her inheritance. She’ll kneel at the Kleenex alter and soon be bingeing Bridgerton with a bottle of Russian Standard, five million dollars richer.

Arlo has more issues than most of her clients. Being a therapist has not prepared her for grief. She adored her father – his laughter, his charm, the smell of his cologne. She thought he adored her, too, but now he’s given his inheritance to a daughter no one knows, and Arlo is at a loss.

Two sisters are unknowingly thrown together for the first time.

It’s crazy, it’s unethical.

It’s perfect.