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“Shoot.”
“You sure you can’t handle it?” I ask when she stops eating so she can pet Mr. Brown’s head. “They really do like you.”
She scratches lovingly behind Mr. Brown’s ears, then shakes her head. “I want to help, but with everything else going on…”
“I have to go into the office soon. I’m recording a podcast with Leo and Jordan.”
“Right. The podcast.”
“They can’t be inside here all day.”
“Nope, they’d go bonkers. Especially Zoey.” She dips her spoon into the parfait again. “Maybe that Vanessa woman you’re seeing could help out?”
“I’m not seeing her. Saw her once or twice, and that was enough.”
“Oh, that’s all? Seemed like she knew you better than that.”
“She wanted to know me better than that. I met her when I was out at a bar for Leo’s birthday party. Then, she came over for a drink. I won’t see her again.”
I remember how, at the bar, she draped herself over me, whispered sweet nothings in my ear, and ended the introduction by entering her number into my phone.
Inviting her over on Saturday was a mistake. I should’ve known we were a poor match just based on how it felt to meet her at the bar.
“Cocktails, right?” Gwen cups her mug and watches me over it. She’s reading my expression, trying to pick up clues.
“I mixed Above the Clouds. Aged rum, amaro, lavender bitters. I tried to talk with her, but she didn’t seem that interested in conversation.”
It was sort of strange, in fact, how quiet Vanessa was. She seemed preoccupied the entire time she was here. Maybe she was too busy imagining what life would be like as Mrs. Benson to actually bother to get to know me.
I know very well that I’m considered an eligible bachelor. Some women, unfortunately, like me only for my wealth. On top of my other issues with women, that makes dating difficult.
A brief, haunting memory of Mia sweeps through me: How afraid I was the day I stood across from her at the altar.
I was young. Twenty-two.
I didn’t know what I was getting into.
Neither of us did.
“Maybe we just didn’t have much in common,” I muse to Gwen. “Anyway, she lives over an hour from here. And I’m not interested in seeing her again, like I said, and she’s got that Cabo trip or whatever. So I can’t ask her to help out with the dogs. It would be much better if you could pitch in.”
“That wouldn’t be a?—”
“Good idea,” I supply. I’m beginning to know her patterns. “Let me guess. You don’t think you’re qualified.”
“I know how to take care of dogs. But I have a lot on my plate.”
“Yet, you managed to talk to my little sister for an entire hour yesterday. That is the reason she dropped these two off with me, you know. Your talk with her left a mark. She headed to Alaska to find Sawyer.”
“Is that right? Wow.”
“Sawyer is not father material.”
“So, you’ve met him?”
“I don’t have to meet him to know that. I’ve heard about him from my mother. He lives in his car.”
“He used to, sometimes, between work stints up north. But this past summer, he was in an apartment.”
