AllFreeNovel
Share Us
thirty-one
Sunny woke to a text from Cici, saying she was going to stay at the Outer Banks another day. Was that okay? How was Fezzi? Did he miss her?
Forget about Fez, Sunny texted back.Tell me instead what “staying another day” means. Does it mean things are going well?Then she tossed in a grin and the eggplant emojis.
Not telling, Cici said, and that was the last she heard from her for the rest of the day. Normally, Sunny would’ve pushed and pressed until she finally got Cici to talk. She knew just how to do it, had learned when they were young where that line was, that she could come at Cici “like a pit bull” just far enough to get her to spill if she was careful not to go just one push too far, in which case Cici would clamp her jaw and after that... Alcatraz.
But not today. Today, Sunny spent most of her time with two families, one who wanted to adopt Sinbad and the other who wanted Willy. The family who wanted Willy was a retired couple in their sixties. The wife was a mother of four grown children; she took care of the grandkids and quilted in her spare time. She wanted to rescue an older dog who needed a home. Someone quiet who might like lying next to her while she worked at the sewing machine. Her name was Martha and she was absolutely perfect for Willy. Her husband, George, was a mild-mannered ex-accountant who just wanted whatever made Martha happy. The vibe was good. Willy went right to them after they’d spent a quiet hour in the spring sunshine, and Sunny was happy to schedule a home visit for the following weekend. Martha was eager to show them her sewing room. She petted Willy gently on the head—she always held it sort of cocked to the side—and cooed, “You want to quilt with me, don’t you, sweet thing? Don’t you?” Willy beamed beneath her fluffy white bangs.
Sunny wasn’t as sure about the people who wanted Sinbad. Two men, brothers, in their late twenties, who wanted a dog to hang out in their autobody shop. Sunny had images of chain link around Sinbad’s neck, left to wallow outside, maybe trained to be mean. The brothers insisted he would be inside the shop, like their sidekick. They’d seen a similar dog on a popular television show and thought it’d be cool to rescue a dog for their own.
It was borderline. They could be telling the truth, and Sinbad would be entirely suitable for such a situation. It could also be a line of bullshit. This is where Cici came in handy. Often, Sunny had her over during visits. She’d sit off to the side, billed as a dog therapist, and people paid little attention to her once they got in with the dogs. Sunny would glance over midway through visits and either exchange a grin of agreement with Cici—these people are perfect—or perhaps uncertainty—let’s get to know them better. Every once in a while, Cici would purse her lips and shake her head. It was a micromovement, barely perceptible, but also absolutely, certainlyno.
This was a situation that required Cici’s intuition. But Cici wasn’t here. Cici was getting laid in the Outer Banks by a hot fitness coach with the body of Adonis, while Sunny was stuck here with two possibly shady men, no night of fun from Sean and a lack of Pete, a decidedly gaping hole in her week that Sunny had only dug herself.
“Let’s schedule a visit to your shop for next weekend.”
“We were hoping to take him home today.” The larger of the two brothers was over six feet tall, head shaved bald, muscular beneath a thick layer of body fat.
“My policy is a visit here, and a visit there.” Sunny spoke in a large voice, calm and steady, and kept eye contact. She’d learned long ago how to speak to convey authority.
Whatever the bald brother lacked on his head, the other brother had on his chin. Beard Brother shrugged at Bald Brother. “What’s another week?”
“I’m ready today. There’s no reason I can’t take him today,” Bald Brother said, but he spoke to his brother, not Sunny. Typical male entitlement. But not necessarily a sign of bad people.
“I have my policies for a reason,” Sunny said. “My reasons are for the dogs’ benefit. I don’t break them. If you’re interested in Sinbad, following my policies should be important to you.” Sinbad, meanwhile, thumped his tail as he sat between them. Technically still a puppy, everything made him happy. He was excited to be at the rescue with the other dogs. He was excited at the brothers’ visit. He was excited just to be alive.
Bald Brother blinked in silence, meeting her gaze. “All right,” he said finally. He pulled out a business card and handed it over. “This is the shop. This is where we spend most of our time. We live above it. Sinbad would almost never be alone.” He shrugged. “We’d treat him right.”
Sunny took the card, more confused than ever. She had learned long ago never to judge by stereotypes. The elderly couple looking at Willy weren’t necessarily any safer than the motorhead brothers.
“Everything okay, ma’am?” Roger poked his head in. He always checked in when Sunny was alone with male customers.
“Yes, thank you, Roger.”
By the time the men left, the sun was going down. Sunny took a shower, poured some wine and considered texting Pete. He would’ve been busy with his own dogs all day, but she could get his opinion on the brothers. Maybe ask him to go with her to the shop next weekend. Of course, if she texted, he might bring up the kiss. Or had enough time gone by that Pete would realize the kiss had been mistake and wouldn’t mention it again? After all, he’d made a point of saying he didn’t want to risk their friendship. After a second glass of wine, Sunny realized she wasn’t texting Pete because she didn’twanthim to say the kiss had been a mistake.
Oh, boy.
Sunny decided this day was done. She went to bed, but tossed and turned, her brain on overdrive. She was sure this was one of those nights she’d be awake until the wee hours. And maybe she was. At some point, though, she drifted.
Until the smell of burning toast woke her. Toast? Or was that a fireplace?
Fezzi was barking madly. Sunny sat up in bed and rubbed her head. Dawn was just breaking. Fezzi stared at her, his three feet dancing over the hardwood floor as he woofed and tossed his head.
A rush of hot wind blew in from her open bedroom window, and she smelled it again.
Smoke. Burning wood.
The realization came slowly to her, like fog that thins over empty streets.
“Oh, my God!” Sunny grabbed the closest garment, her silken robe. Just before she dashed toward the doorway, she snatched up her cell phone and texted Pete two words:Something’s wrong.
She stumbled outside, Fezzi on her heels, barking and running beside her, keeping stride despite the fact he could’ve easily streaked ahead, even with one leg missing. Black smoke billowed in the air, orange flames licking against the outside of Roger’s quarters. “Roger!” Sunny shrieked.
Her legs got going so fast she stumbled on some underbrush and nearly fell on her face. A strong arm hooked her waist, saving her. She looked up, into Roger’s frightened eyes.
“I woke to Fezzi, barking at me. I guess he opened the door somehow, with his paw? He saved my life. I woke to smoke and fire. I called 911 and ran inside your house for this.” Roger had a fire extinguisher braced against his hip. “C’mon.”
