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He replied,Glad to hear it.
She could practically hear his smug tone radiating out from the screen. A moment later when she didn’t respond he sent another text.So, can we meet and talk?
She went to the pantry and pulled out a bottle of wine. Abbe rarely drank, but at this particular moment, she decided she could use a little liquid lucidity. She poured herself a very fat glass of very old and mellow red wine and wondered why she didn’t keep any whiskey handy. Rafe sent a third text, which Abbe thought was just out of order. There had to be an etiquette law about triple texting, she was sure of it.Hello?
He was so impatient. This was exactly why she didn’t want him to have Daisy. He was the kind of guy who snapped his fingers and sent people running. What happened when he encountered problems with Daisy that didn’t solve themselves without effort from him? He was too used to getting what he wanted. She thought of how he had literally picked her up and brought her behind a tree like he was going to take her right there in a public park. He wouldn’t have stopped if she hadn’t pulled away. Worse, she almost hadn’t pulled away.
I don’t think us talking is such a good idea, she replied.
There was a long pause before he sent,Okay, then, I’ll keep Daisy. Bye.
She almost dropped her wine.
I didn’t say that!
Then meet me for a drink.
I’m already having a drink.
Meet me for a drink tomorrow, then.
She laughed quietly at her screen, wondering why it was funny to her that he was being so pushy. She decided it was because she could almost see the way he would say it. How his eyes would sparkle and his mouth would hint at a smile before ending in a smirk. He was charming and confident and the kind of guy who made women act first and regret it later. He’d already proved that with her. She couldn’t do this to herself. Not again.
There’s nothing to talk about. Please return Daisy to Furry Faces at your earliest convenience. Goodbye.
Abbe shut off her phone. Then realized she needed something to keep herself busy and went about the laborious task of lighting a fire in the fireplace. Usually, it took Abbe lots of singed fingers and swearing to get a fire going but of course, this one time when she would welcome hard work to keep her distracted, the flames took almost instantly. Then the fire proceeded to crackle with romantic light.
She sank down into the leather armchair, a glass of red wine in hand, wanting to kick herself. Even thefirewas setting her up to think sexy thoughts. Why had she lit it again?
Inside her cozy room, Abbe went back and forth, her mind a whirlwind of confusion. She had always prided herself on her self-control, on her ability to focus on what needed to be done rather than how she felt about it. But that kiss had shaken her. She couldn't believe she had let him get close, couldn't believe she had responded to him with such intensity. She wanted to blame him, to hate him for making her feel this way, but deep down, she knew it was something she had been denying herself for far too long. She told herself that he was wrong for her, and that’s all there was to it. Getting involved with him was just asking to get hurt again.
Determined to put it out of her mind, Abbe went to bed and got up the next morning with fresh resolve. She was looking forward to the day, and to throwing herself into work. She still had to find a way to convince Arc A to restore her account, or she had to set up a GoFundMepage immediately. With her bike at work, she had to drive, and over the short trip, she resolved to find a solution to all of her problems that day. That’s what she was good at anyway. Work. Not relationships.
As Abbe settled into her office, she opened her email, half-expecting more bad news. But what she found left her speechless. An email from Arc A Enterprises had landed in her inbox. It informed her in the same impersonal language as the past emails that the freeze which had been put on the account had been lifted, and that Furry Faces had access to their much-needed funds once more.
Abbe's eyes filled with tears of relief. She could hardly believe it.
“Knock, knock,” Charles announced over by the door.
“Guess what? The freeze was lifted!”
"Abbe, this is amazing news!" Charles exclaimed, his face beaming.
Abbe’s voice was embarrassingly choked with emotion. "We can pay the bills, schedule those overdue appointments with the vet… we can keep the doors open!”
Abbe finally allowed herself to say it out loud. Since she had received that first email from Arc A Enterprises saying that they were going to end her funding, she had been adamantlynotthinking about the fact that no funding meant she would have to find other shelters for the animals, and that she would have to shut the place down.
The house would have probably been taken away from her as well, for although Abbe had inherited her grandmother’s entire estate, she still had to pay taxes on it, which she could barely afford. Which was why she didn’t own a place of her own and rented. Abbe was a careful planner, but devoting her life to helping animals meant that her income was little to nothing. Abbe could have sold the property and made out handsomely, but that wasn’t her dream. Her dream was to do exactly what she was doing, even if it meant financially, she was poor. In her heat, Abbe felt plenty rich enough.
“You can keep payingme. We both know that’s what’s really important,” Charles said. Abbe knew he was joking, he made far more money grooming and showing dogs, he was just trying to lighten the mood. She was practically crying—no, shewascrying, she realized. She hiccuped loudly and then laughed. She sounded hysterical.
“Sorry,” she said wiping her face, embarrassed for getting so emotional. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.”
Charles was one of those people who always knew, in any place and in any situation, where the nearest tissue box was. It was built into him, like an airline attendant knowing where all the exits were. He produced a tissue as if by magic and handed it to her.
“I can take a guess,” he said out of the side of his mouth. The way he was squashing down a mischievous smile told her he was desperately trying not to say anything more.
“What?” she asked him, sniffling.
