tall, gangly twentysomething guy stood on her porch. He was blond and wore board shorts, a T-shirt and athletic shoes. The T-shirt had a drawing of a cartoon version of him on it, along with the phrase Leader of the Pack.
“Harper Szymanski?” the guy asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m Dwayne. I’m here to walk your dogs.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and glanced at it. “Thor and Jazz. It’s a daily service, which means Monday through Friday. I drive them to the beach and we walk along the boardwalk. It’ll take about ninety minutes.” Dwayne flashed her a smile. “Your husband paid for the top dog package. He must really like your dogs.”
Harper didn’t know what to say beyond, “He’s not my husband.” Because there was only one person who would have thought to arrange a dog-walking service. She would guess Lucas had done it for Thor, then added on Jazz. Damn the man for being thoughtful, good-looking and only interested in gorgeous bubbleheads in their twenties.
She held open the door for Dwayne to come inside. He saw Thor and Jazz and grinned.
“Oh, wow. Dobies. You guys are beautiful.” He held out his hand so they could sniff his fingers, then he squatted in front of them and said, “Shake.”
They both obliged.
“Lucas said you two were the bomb. He’s right. Super great manners.” He stood and looked at her. “I need their leashes.”
Harper got them from the bottom drawer in the table by the front door. She handed over a new roll of poop bags, hoping the dogs would do their thing somewhere other than her backyard.
“Thanks,” Dwayne said, snapping on the leashes. “We’ll be back in an hour and a half. Do you want me to run them?”
“That would be great.”
“Right? A tired dog is a happy dog. See ya.” He looked at the dogs. “Thor, Jazz, heel.”
The dogs stood and moved to his left side, Jazz taking the inside position. Dwayne walked them down the steps and out to his battered pickup. It was only after he’d driven away that Harper realized she probably should have checked with Lucas first. Just in case.
She quickly texted him, not sure when she would hear a response. Sometimes he was available, but a lot of the time, his phone was off. She supposed that came from being on the job catching bad guys or whatever it was he did in his day.
This time he answered her in a matter of seconds.
Are you concerned that someone cooked up an elaborate scheme to steal the dogs by pretending to be a dog walker?
Her lips twitched as she realized he kind of had a point.
I hadn’t thought of it that way. Thank you for including Jazz on the walk. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. I know I do.
Happy to help. You can deal with your guilt by baking me something.
You know I will.
That I do.
She was still smiling as she walked into her pantry and studied the shelf that held her baking supplies. Not cookies, she thought. They were too ordinary. Tarts. She would bake Lucas chocolate tarts. But first she would go get the supplies she needed for the gift bags, then drop off the T-shirts she was shipping to her comedian client, Misty, then swing by the post office to mail Lucas’s bills. Then she would bake tarts and tonight, while the world slept, she would make gift bags and curse her inability to stand up for herself when she knew she absolutely should.
* * *
Becca sat on the front porch step, her arm around Jazz. The dog was leaning heavily on her, her body providing comforting warmth.
“Are you still confused?” Becca asked the dog. “It’s been a few days now and we have a routine. I’m sorry I have to be gone for school, but you have Thor, right? I could talk to Aunt Stacey about Bay. Maybe you three could have a playdate.”
Jazz stretched out on the porch and rested her head on her paws, but even as she shifted positions, she still stayed close. Becca kept her arm around the dog, figuring they both needed the comfort.
Jazz wasn’t the only one confused—Becca was starting to think she would never know everything going on, even in her own life. She missed Kaylee so much—more so now that Jordan had gone totally drama queen about Nathan. Kaylee would have called her on her crap and told her to stop talking about herself. Kaylee would have made a joke and smiled at Becca and asked about Jazz because that was what Kaylee had always done. She’d been a buffer against darker forces.
But there wasn’t anything between Becca and Jordan, so Becca spent her day hearing about how amazing Nathan was and how he loved Jordan so much. Theirs was the greatest love ever and boyfriend-less Becca couldn’t possibly understand. Worse, Jordan chided her about being bitter and angry, which wasn’t true. Okay, not the bitter part. She didn’t care that Jordan had Nathan, but she was starting to get pissed about her friend’s attitude.
“Bay would never act like that to you,” Becca told the dog. “You have better taste in friends.”
For a second, she wished she could talk to her mom and tell her what was happening. Her mom could be dorky, but sometimes she had really good advice. Even if she didn’t, she used to always make Becca feel better. They would bake something or do a craft project.
Not anymore, she thought grimly. Even if she was willing to do something so childish, her mom wasn’t available. She was always too busy with her VA business.
Becca leaned over and kissed the top of Jazz’s head, then straightened. She was about to pull out her phone and check the time when it buzzed with a text. She looked at the screen, then caught her breath when she read the message.
I’m tied up at work, kiddo. Sorry. Let’s reschedule for some time next week.
Tears burned in her eyes. Becca blinked them away, telling herself to get over it. She knew she couldn’t depend on her dad and she was stupid if she thought he would ever change. He always had something else he had to be doing. As for getting tied up at work—that was a complete lie. He was a podiatrist, which meant scheduled appointments. He wasn’t a real doctor who had actual emergencies.
She shoved her phone back in her pocket and wiped her cheeks, just in case. Before she could scramble to her feet and escape to her room, Lucas pulled up and parked in front of her house.
He walked up the path and sat next to Jazz on the stairs, then patted the dog and smiled at her.
“Hey, kid.”
His words were way too close to what her dad called her. “I have a name,” she snapped.
“Yes, you do.” She waited for him to call her on her attitude, but instead he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. You’re here early.”
“I was in court for most of the day. It’s boring, but it’s a shorter day. You didn’t answer my question.”
“I said nothing was wrong.”
