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 a new family, Mickey resolved never to think of her father again. She's fine without him: she pays her taxes; she stops at stop signs; yes, she drinks, but only sometimes and, really, she can't not. It's just a thing that she does.
But with only $181.91 to her name, she's not above attending some mandated therapy to access her inheritance. She'll kneel at the Kleenex alter and soon she'll be bingeing Bridgerton with a bottle of Russian standard, five million dollars richer. It's just a shame it means accepting something from him after all these years.
Her therapist, Arlo, has more issues than most of her clients. She's wanted this job since she counselled her Barbies aged 10, but now Daddy's dead, having given his inheritance to some daughter no one's seen for thirty years, and she's not sure what's left of her.
As patient meets therapist, two sisters are unknowingly thrown together for the first time. It's crazy and unethical, just like their father. But could it be the perfect solution?