After days of reflection, which job he would like the most, Jarod had come to the conclusion that becoming a doctor would give him the most satisfaction. A child psychologist to be precise. He liked working with children for a number of reasons: They are such fragile beings, yet strong at the same time. He liked how their eyes would light when they, for the first time, felt that someone was really paying attention to them; that someone was really interested in what they had to say, interested in their opinion. He liked that he could relief children of the burdens they were carrying with them.
He liked helping children who were abused and neglected, to survive their trauma and make them feel like a person again, a person that mattered. What mattered the most to him was making them aware that the abuse or neglect wasn’t their fault.

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On his way from the courthouse to his office Jarod bumped into a woman, who dropped her coffee and briefcase, which fell open, as a result of the collision.


Instantaneously they both crouched down to pick up the fallen items, while Jarod muttered: “I’m sorry; I wasn’t watching were I was going.”


“Don’t be,” the woman answered, “It was my fault, I was distracted by the outfit in the window.”


Looking over at the display, he smiled and stated: “It would look amazing on you.”


Blushing slightly the woman said: “Cute and charming.” After a pause she added: “You must do well with the ladies, I presume.”


Jarod just shrugged at the comment. He looked down to the spilled coffee and asked: I’m sorry about the coffee, would you let me buy you another one? I’ve know this great coffee place. It took me a week to try every type of coffee they had.” He held out his hand to her and said: “By the way, my name is Jarod.”


She took his hand and shook it while saying: “Parker.”

“Nice to meet you Parker.” He smiled. “So, what do you say about that cup of coffee?”