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“Watch and learn.”
“What about this guy?” I asked with a mocking smile.
She pointed at the sign in the window.Dogs Welcome Inside.Leave it to the tigress to find a dog friendly establishment in New York City.
I saluted and let Sam sniff around for a spot to go to the bathroom.
I had hoped taking her to see my mother would result in answers to the questions I had, but Mama hadn’t asked anything parents normally did. Something important had come of taking Sonya to meet my mother. She’d forgiven me. I didn’t deserve it and couldn’t really accept it. I was unable to understand how she could after everything I’d done.
I’d kept the one thing away from her she’d always wanted: a grandson. I’d only just come to terms with the fact that I was a father—no, a sperm donor—myself. It still seemed impossible. But the tests hadn’t lied.
If I had believed Holly when she’d come to me all those years ago, would I be a different person today? That question kept me up at night. She probably would have been a good wife, but that kid was better off without my influence. He seemed like a pretty amazing child. That was because Holly had kept him as far away from me as possible. Every time I saw him, I was torn between running and getting to know him. For every bad influence I might have had on him, my mother would have taught him twice as many good things. No one had ever said doing the right thing was easy, not that I had much experience with that. In this case, keeping my distance from that little boy was my great contribution to his life.
I’d taken longer to go inside than I’d meant it to, and I was distracted when I entered the bar. One wall was exposed brick. A pool table filled one corner, the balls in a perfect triangle on the felt. “My Type” by Saint Motel wafted down from the speakers, and I smirked, pretty sure the song was written about me.
There were few people inside, and they were mostly men. Nobody looked up even though I had a dog on a leash. It only took a second to find Sonya. She sat too close for my liking to a man near the center of the bar. Their bodies were angled toward one another. A smooth shoulder peeked out from the wide neck of her sweater, tempting him the way it had tempted me all day. Her expression was serious, as if she was confiding all her most intimate secrets to him.
I fought the strong urge to insert myself between them and tell him he didn’t know jack shit about her. The truth was, I didn’t either, and that was beginning to bother me. I especially didn’t like the thought of her sharing secrets with anyone other than me.
Sam tugged me to the bar, ignoring her instructions to go to a table, and I brushed right up against her back, like I was marking my territory or some bullshit like that. She didn’t react, her focus completely on the asshole on her other side, who had obviously bought her a drink.
“My dog means everything to me,” I heard her say with despair. “Henry needs surgery. He swallowed a corncob from the neighbor’s trash when the bag burst open.”
It took everything I had not to snort. The little liar. Except, if I hadn’t known better, I’d probably have believed her. She wasn’t laying it on too thick, and the emotion in her voice was genuine. Discreetly, I slid a bar napkin to her when I heard her sniffle. Discreetly, she elbowed me in the side.
Sam sat at her feet and put his head on her lap as though he belonged to her. Because he did. How was she going to get out of this one?
“Hi there,” she said as if she’d only just met Sam. She petted his head but returned her focus to the man.
“I lost my dog a few years back,” the poor sap said, taking a swallow of his beer. “We were really close too.” He stared down into his glass, and Sonya patted his shoulder. “It’s a cliché, but he was my best friend.”
I didn’t hear what she said next because the bartender came and took my drink order. Johnny Walker Blue straight up. Sonya stiffened, and I tuned back in. “I should be at the vet,” Sonya said firmly, sounding defeated, still scratching behind Sam’s ears absently.
“Can’t any of your other family help you out?”
I noticed the Patek Philippe watch on the guy’s wrist. He was wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans, fairly unassuming, but the timepiece told me he had money or was in debt up to his eyeballs.
Sonya’s chin dropped to her chest, and her shoulders heaved. “My parents are dead. I don’t have any siblings. He’s all I have left in this world, and I’ve let him down.”
When the man’s hand went to her thigh in sympathy, I almost hauled him out of his seat and broke that hand on the bar. Instead, I hissed through my teeth, and she elbowed me again. Sam let out a slight growl but stopped when she kept stroking him.
She sniffed a few more times and then shook her head. “I’m sorry. You’re here to drink, not hear about my problems.” Sonya stood and gave him a sad smile. “Thanks for listening.”
He caught her by the wrist. “I don’t mind,” he said kindly, and I felt sort of sorry for him.
She shook her head again, hair flying around her face. “No. Really. I shouldn’t be here anyway. But I just felt so helpless at home.”
“Please. Sit back down.” He patted the seat, and she tilted her head as if deliberating.
Finally she sat down, and he gave her a sympathetic smile. “We all have ways of coping when we feel hopeless.” He spun his glass in his hands. “My wife left me last week.”
Sonya’s hand flew to her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry about your dog, but it’s kind of nice forgetting about what’s happening with me.”
They chatted easily for quite some time, so long that Sam curled up on the wood floor, and I almost believed this shit story about her sick dog as I listened in. Fortunately, the guy got a phone call and immediately signaled the bartender to close his tab.
“I have to go,” he told Sonya apologetically as he laid a fifty-dollar bill on the bar.
