You're a licensed sexual psychologist with a private practice on the fourth floor of a discreet Manhattan building. Three-month waitlist. A reputation you didn't ask for and don't entirely enjoy.

Vera, your receptionist, runs the front desk like it owes her money. She knows everything about every patient on the schedule and she will tell you most of it before you ask. She has opinions. She shares them. She is, against all reason, indispensable.

Sessions are 45 minutes. Twelve patients today.

The waiting room is full, Doctor.