had been lonelier living with him than without him. She gathered Fred to her and put her cheek on his furry little head, grateful to have him with her.
Her mother had been even blunter than Guy. “You’re leaving Guy just as your body’s going. You’ve put on weight, you’ve got crow’s-feet and I’m sure you’re sagging in more places than just your jawline. This is a mistake. Tell Guy you’ve changed your mind.” And when Nina had said, “No,” her mother had washed her hands of her. “Fine. Leave the money and society to be some drab, middle-aged divorcée. It’s your life. But don’t come crying to me when you realize what you’ve done.”
Even Charity had put her two cents in. “Your mother’s an ice cube and always has been. Forget her. But I’ve got to tell you, Neen, it’s a jungle out there. Guerilla dating. Brace yourself.”
Well, she wasn’t going to brace herself, because she was not going looking for another man. From now on, she was building her own life and staying as far away from men as she could. She had her career, her apartment, and now she had Fred, too.
Fred stirred again, and Nina held him close. Now she had Fred to come home to, and he was all she was ever going to need. Fred would always love her and would never leave her. “We’re going to be together forever,” she told him. Then she fell asleep with her arms around him, his snores echoing in her ears.
DEBBIE WAS LICKING wet, sloppy kisses on his face. “No,” Alex mumbled. “No, I don’t want kids.” He tried to push her nose away until somewhere in the recesses of his sleep-fogged mind he remembered that Debbie’s nose hadn’t been long and furry. Then he opened his eyes and screamed.
There was an animal on the couch next to him.
Alex sat up and the animal rolled off and landed on the floor with a thud.
“What the hell?” Alex turned on the lamp, and the soft light flooded the room and showed him the thing at his feet.
It was a basset hound with all four legs in the air, looking like inflated road kill.
Alex bent down. “Hello?”
The dog rolled over slowly, blinking at him in reproach. This dog was very good at reproach. In fact, this dog could make Hannibal Lecter feel guilty.
“I’m sorry,” Alex told him. “You scared me.” He scratched the dog behind the ears, and the dog’s eyes closed as he gave a little doggy moan. “Where you from, buddy? Better yet, how’d you get in here?”
He looked over at the apartment door: closed shut. That pretty well meant the window. He looked at the dog in disbelief. “You came in the window? What are you, Superdog?”
He walked over and stuck his head out the window. The back gate was shut tight. “You must live here in the apartments.”
The dog turned his back and waddled to the door, but Alex caught a glint of metal on his collar before he turned.
“Wait a minute.” Alex followed him to the door and bent down to read the tag. Fred Askew, it said. 2455 River Dr., Apt. 3. “You’re one floor up, Fred, old buddy,” he told the dog as he picked up his shirt, “let’s go see if anybody’s home.”
Chapter Two
Nina stretched and squinted at the clock on the mantel. Eleven. Time to wake up, put Fred out and go to bed.
Fred?
Fred wasn’t next to her anymore. She leaned off the couch to look under the end table, but he wasn’t there. Suddenly the apartment seemed too quiet, and she went from bedroom to kitchen to living room calling Fred’s name.
He was gone. She’d fallen asleep, and he was gone. She stuck her head out the window and searched the yard anxiously for him.
No Fred.
She crawled out the window and ran down the two flights of fire escape, desperately searching the pavement below for Fred’s broken body.
No Fred.
She paced the backyard in the dark, inch by inch, looking behind and even in the Dumpster, just in case Fred had developed aspirations and had managed to climb inside.
No Fred.
The back gate was still locked, and the fence was too high for any dog to have jumped over, let alone the aerodynamically challenged Fred.
Nina climbed back up the fire escape, her throat tight with fear and loss, and crawled through the window, not sure what she was going to do next. She sank into her big armchair and tried to think.
Call the pound. Call the police. “I’ve lost my dog. He’s part basset, part beagle, part darling.”
“Oh, Fred,” Nina mourned out loud, and then jumped when someone knocked on her door.
The guy at the door was tall, blond, broad-shouldered and boyishly good-looking, and when she blinked up at him and said, “Yes?” he leaned against the doorjamb, loose-limbed, careless and confident. “Would you be Fred Askew’s mother?” he asked, and then she looked down and saw Fred sitting bored at his feet, his little silver ID tag glinting in the light from the hall.
“Fred!” Nina shrieked and dropped to her knees to gather him into her arms. “Oh, Fred, I thought I’d lost you forever.”
Fred slurped his tongue over her face and then struggled to get free of her. Nina let him go and stood up, wiping her hand across her face to get rid of most of his spit. “Thank you.” She beamed at Fred’s rescuer. “Thank you so much. Where did you find him?”
“He was sitting on my couch when I woke up.” He held out his hand. “I’m Alex Moore. I live in the apartment below you.”
Nina wiped her fingers on her skirt and shook his hand, a little dazed. “On your couch? He was sitting on your couch?”
“Surprised me, too.” Alex grinned at her. “I think he came in from the fire escape.”
His grin was a killer, broad and friendly and a little evil, and Nina felt her pulse flutter in response. No, she told her pulse and turned to frown down at Fred. “I told you, it’s two flights. You have to climb all the way to the third floor, Fred. You can’t just pick any window and climb in.”
Fred did the dog equivalent of a shrug and walked away.
Alex raised his eyebrows. “You trained him to climb the fire escape?”
Nina bit her lip. “I was hoping no one would notice. I’m sorry. I—”
“No, I think it’s great. Weird, but great.” He grinned at her again, and Nina was struck by how nice he looked. Not handsome or distinguished like Guy. Just comfortably good-looking. Warmly good-looking. Stirringly good-looking.
And he couldn’t possibly be thirty yet.
This was a bad sign. It was also understandable since she’d been celibate for a year, but it was still a bad sign. This guy was a child. If she kept this up, she’d be buying a Porsche and cruising the local high schools.
“I
