AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He’s quiet for a second, and then he exhales into the phone. “I have court in the morning, Jovie. Can we do … whatever this is … another time?”
“It’s a simple question begging a simple answer.”
“And I’m an exhausted man who just worked a sixteen-hour day and has to go before a judge tomorrow and convince her that my client deserves the house in the Hamptons, the vintage Ferrari 328, the collection of rare coins, an eight-figure lump sum, plus alimony for the next twenty years. I really don’t have the mental bandwidth to talk about anything else right now.”
In true Stone fashion, he sounds annoyed … but his actions speak otherwise.
Why call if he’s so exhausted and has to prep for a trial in the morning?
“Fine,” I say. “Rain check?”
He blows a breath into the phone. “Yeah. Sure.”
“When?”
He snickers. “I’ll pencil you in for tomorrow night.”
“Please Sharpie me in for tomorrow night,” I say. “Preferably around seven if your schedule allows, Counselor.”
After a bout of silence, I check my phone screen to make sure he’s still there.
He is.
“I’ll call you tomorrow at seven,” he says.
The subtlest twinge tickles my insides at the thought of resuming this conversation tomorrow, though I haven’t the faintest clue where this excitement is stemming from. Confusion aside, maybe it’s simply the fact that it feels good to reconnect with an old friend? A blast from the past? A piece of my younger years?
Whether Stone liked me or not, we were a significant part of each other’s lives for three years.
That’s got to count for something.
Chapter Eighteen
Stone
* * *
I’m driving back to the office after court when a call from Jovie comes in. I tap the answer button on my steering wheel.
“Thought we agreed on seven o’clock,” I say.
“Oh my god. I’m so glad you answered,” she says, breathless. “I’m in a bit of a … situation.”
“And I’m the first person you thought to call?”
“No,” she says. “You’re the third.”
“Okay …”
“So you know the dog I’m watching?”
“The one eating USDA prime steak dinners? Yes.”
“So … last night, I was walking him, and I ran into my upstairs neighbor, Connie,” she says. “She was asking me a bunch of questions about the dog, and I didn’t think anything of it because she’s always been on the nosier side. Anyway, this morning my phone rings—and it’s my landlord. Connie called to complain that I’m keeping a dog in my apartment … never mind that I told her it was only for another week.”
I can already envision this woman. I’ve met clients like her all the time—the strict rule followers who get off on policing everyone around them. People like that tend to be angry at the world. Not only that, but they have too much time on their hands. It’s an unfortunate combination.
“Anyway, my landlord said I have to find somewhere else to keep the dog,” I say.
“Your landlord sounds like a dick.”
“I’ve called every kennel in town. They’re all full because it’s peak season,” she continues. “I can’t stay at my neighbor’s house with him because she’s having her bathroom renovated and there’s a lot of noise and dust. I called my parents, but they’re leaving for an Alaskan cruise in a couple of days. I asked Monica, but her husband’s allergic to everything under the sun.”
“And now you’re calling me.”
“I know you don’t owe me anything, but I didn’t know who else to call … Ida said she can see about moving her flight to an earlier date, but until then … what am I supposed to do?”
“Can you find a pet friendly AirBnB?”
“I found three in the area, and they all rent for a thousand bucks a night.”
“What about small-town kennels? Surely they’re not all booked.”
“Stone—this dog is stressed enough being out of his element and away from his owner. I don’t want to make it worse by sticking him in a car for a couple of hours and ditching him in some unfamiliar place.” Her voice breaks.
Jovie’s always had a soft spot for animals. The year we lived together she found a robin’s nest that had been knocked from its tree after a bad storm. After determining that the mother had abandoned it, she brought it inside, called up a wildlife refuge and spent hours researching how to care for the two nestlings, and she kept them safe and fed until they were big enough to fly away.
As an orphan myself, her selflessness wasn’t lost on me.
I pull up to my office, shift into park, and sink back in my seat. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I drag in a long breath.
I’ve never been an animal person.
Hell, I’m not even a plant person.
“Stone,” she says. “I’m desperate here … and it’ll just be for a few days until Ida can get back. I will do anything.”
