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LEAH: Aren’t you having coffee with one of your potential matches?
AUGUST: Yes, but I can cancel.
LEAH: Don’t cancel. But call me right after, okay? Don’t worry about Keaton, I’ll handle him.
She wasn’t sure Keaton would want to see her, however. To say their last conversation had been painful was putting it lightly. And not painful because he didn’t feel the same way as she did. Or because he was being a jerk. Or because he was surprised when she confessed that she loved him.
But because he felt something for her, too.
It only served to reinforce all her regrets about that night. He’d held the future out in the palm of his hand and she’d been too chickenshit to take it.
Now he was too afraid to try again and she’d lost her chance. Fear was the killer of their chances—her fear back then and his now. It made her want to scream and throw something at the wall. But there was no point. Shehadto keep going. Shehadto move on.
August was, if nothing else, motivated and resilient.
“August,” her client called out as she poked her head into the kitchen. “You can come through now.”
Sara was a Broadway star, retired and in her late fifties, and she walked with the grace and excellent posture of someone who’d trained in dance for decades. She wore a vibrant yellow shirt tucked into loose white pants, and her black hair was a halo of tightly coiled curls around her head. Her brown skin glowed and she wore her signature mahogany-brown lipstick. Even now, August was starstruck by getting to groom the pet of a legend like Sara, whom she’d seen in several shows over the years.
“How’s Liza doing?” August asked as she followed Sara through the brownstone out to a large laundry, where there was an ample sink and bench with which to do her grooming.
“You can see for yourself.” Sara bent to scoop up an adorable silky terrier whose coat already gleamed.
“You do such a good job taking care of her, I feel like I barely need to do anything when I come to see her.” August reached out to stroke the dog’s head. She was a friendly little thing, and her tail wagged with affection.
“A full brush out two to three times a week and a bath every month,” Sara replied, with a proud smile. “We love our bath time together, don’t we, Miss Liza?”
The dog’s head pulled back at the mention of the wordbathand August was quite sure that Liza didnotenjoy it. But her owner took great care of her and the little dog was well trained and compliant, so she put up with the bathing.
“I’ll leave you to your work, but if you need me, I’ll be around,” Sara said. “Just call out.”
August took the dog from her client and popped her up onto the bench, securing her with a clip at the collar to prevent her from accidentally falling off. She started by spraying the dog’s fur with a pet-safe detangling spray, because the silky terrier had such fine hair that it was at risk of breaking if brushed dry. Then she used a pin brush to start working out any of the tangles common to the breed.
As she worked, she praised the little dog, who stood patiently, moving this way and that as instructed.
“You’re such a good girl,” August cooed.
By the time she finished the grooming session, she’d run over by fifteen minutes because she’d stopped to check her phone half a dozen times. Augustneverdid that—she was always very aware of her clients’ time being precious, as well as her own. But she was desperate for an update. Was Keaton okay? Had Leah gotten through to him? What if he’d taken off and she never saw him again?
You’re being ridiculous.
But the irrational thought sat like a weight in her stomach. And itcontinuedto sit in her stomach while she headed home to shower and change for her date, and while she hoofed it back up to the fancy little cafe where she was due to meet one of her matches, Kai.
Pausing outside the cafe’s window, she checked her appearance. Her cheeks were flushed from rushing to make up the time she’d lost earlier, and her red hair was wild and frizzy. She hadn’t even bothered to put any lipstick on, or change her earrings out from her usual practical gold ball studs to something fancier.
“Oh well, he can take me or leave me as I am,” she muttered to herself, feeling more like she was walking into a doctor’s appointment than a date.
Well, to be fair, it wasn’t a date. Technically. Maxine had set her up with three “meet and greet” coffee sessions with the men that would apparently tick all her boxes.
? Intelligent, but with a good sense of humor.
? Driven to succeed, but also likes to have fun.
? No desire to have children.
But August couldn’t seem to muster much enthusiasm. She’d been hoping all the way through her appointment that Leah would call on her for help, so she would have an excuse to cancel the not-date. But a deeply ingrained sense of responsibility had brought her here, even though she would rather be anywhere else.
That’s not fair to this poor guy. You’re wasting his time.
