other choice. He’s even up there at his window now, making sure I’m leaving,” she added with a poke of her chin at the building behind her friend.
“Maybe we could have hidden Pip,” Sharon suggested.
Josie laughed at that. “Where? How?”
Sharon shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. This whole thing just doesn’t seem fair.”
“It’s more fair than getting you guys all evicted because of Pip and me. Don’t worry about it. Now that I have somewhere to go, it isn’t a big deal.”
“Yes, it is a big deal when it means you’re going to have to play at being engaged to accomplish it. When you’re going to pull the wool over the eyes of Michael Dunnigan’s mother, of all people. Everything with that woman is a big deal. She’s a steamroller in panty hose. You might start out only pretending to be engaged, but before Elsa Dunnigan is through, you’re liable to find yourself married with ten kids. And if she finds out this is just a scam? I don’t even want to think what she might do.” Sharon ended with wide eyes to emphasize the terror of just considering that possibility.
But Josie just laughed again. “Come on. She can’t be that bad.”
“She can and she is. I wouldn’t want her for even a pretend mother-in-law. That night that I went out with Michael I kept looking at him, thinking that he might be gorgeous but I wouldn’t go near him for anything but a one-nighter because nothing is worth putting up with that woman more than I have to at the office.”
“If she’s that horrible why did you agree to go out with her son in the first place?” Josie challenged.
“I was mad at T.J. and I wanted to teach him a lesson. But I’m telling you, Josie, I thought my mother was a pain in the neck, but Elsa Dunnigan has her beat by a mile.”
“I won’t be living with his mother,” Josie pointed out.
“No, you’ll be trying to live platonically with a guy who’s already swept you off your feet and into his bed. On top of the whole mother thing. It’s like double jeopardy.”
“What happened between Michael and me over Labor Day is history. I only slept with him because… Well, it was just a bad weekend for me. The anniversary of my parents’ death is always dicey. But what happened before won’t happen again.”
“I know you needed comfort and solace and forgetfulness that weekend, but still, Michael Dunnigan is some pretty powerful stuff. I don’t know if you can just blame that three-day marathon on being bummed out. Or trust that not being bummed out will make you immune.”
“Determination not to repeat that marathon is what will make me immune. And it will help that we’ll be going our separate ways. He’ll be completely out of the house every other day. Believe me, nothing is going to happen between us again.”
Sharon didn’t look convinced. Or sound it when she said, “Whatever you say.”
“I say it’ll be just fine,” Josie said with conviction.
And by then she honestly believed it would be. She’d thought long and hard about this situation since the man in question had left the previous night. And, in spite of his appeal, there were two very large roadblocks to her ever wanting to get seriously involved with him. And neither of them had anything to do with his mother.
In the first place, Josie had no intention of changing her own unencumbered lifestyle.
And in the second place, Michael’s job was the cure for even contemplating any kind of involvement with him whatsoever.
No matter how attractive he was, how sexy, how funny or fun or intelligent or charming or well put-together, Josie had one steadfast rule—she was absolutely not going to let herself get involved with a guy in a high-risk profession. She knew firsthand the devastation that could be wreaked if the worst occurred in life, and although she realized that anyone could have any kind of freakish accident at any time, being connected to someone who courted danger through their work was more risky than she could bear. Which meant that Michael Dunnigan was one very off-limits man.
“I should get going,” she told Sharon. “I still have to unpack all this stuff when I get there.”
Sharon nodded her resignation. “You’ll call me this week?” her friend said.
“I will. Maybe we can meet for lunch one day.”
“Good. And you know, if this doesn’t work out, you can always find Pip a nice home and come back.”
“It’ll be fine,” Josie repeated.
“Or, if the temptation gets to be too much, you could stay there on the nights Michael works but leave Pip there and spend the night here with us on Michael’s days off.”
“There’s an idea,” Josie said, thinking that might actually be something she would do if the attraction to Michael started to get the best of her. Certainly she would do that before she would repeat Labor Day weekend.
She and Sharon hugged then.
“I’m going to miss you, though,” Sharon said, sounding on the verge of tears. “I hate that you won’t be here to make me your famous chai tea when I come home stressed.”
“I can probably talk you through making it yourself in an emergency,” Josie joked again, this time somewhat feebly.
Their hug ended and Sharon leaned over to the window beside Pip. “’Bye, puppy,” she said to the large animal. “Be a good boy and don’t get your mom into any more trouble.”
Pip had turned his head toward her when she’d first spoken to him and he gave the window one lick as if it were Sharon’s face. Then he went back to staring straight ahead.
“Damn Bartholomew,” Sharon muttered as she straightened. Then, to Josie, she said, “Drive safely.”
“I will.”
Josie headed around the front of the car to the driver’s side. “I’ll talk to you this week,” she called as she got in behind the wheel.
Sharon moved back from the curb, waving as Josie pulled out into the street.
“Here we go, big dog, another of life’s adventures,” she announced to Pip as she drove away.
At least that’s what she hoped the feeling she was having was—excitement for a new experience, a new adventure. Better that than feeling excited over getting to see Michael Dunnigan again.
Josie looked at all of life as an adventure. She liked to keep things free and easy. She liked to try new and different foods. She liked to meet new people. She liked to pick up on the spur of the moment and go somewhere without having anything planned, without knowing where she was going or what she was going to do or when she would come back. She liked to change jobs. To have new experiences. All of that excited her. Thrilled her. The same way it had excited and thrilled her parents.
But anything dangerous, anything life-threatening—that was something else again. And that was where she was different from her parents.
But then she’d lived through the consequences
