“What do you want?” Dickson snarled. “Philomena and I are having a little talk here. So leave.”
“I don’t think so.” Josh’s voice was deceptively mild but Phil could see the muscles in his chest and upper arms bunching with tension. She was surprised that her boss wasn’t a little more frightened at the sight of Josh looming over him like a thundercloud about to explode. His jaw was clenched and so were his fists. But apparently Dickson was so used to being in charge, he didn’t see the danger.
“Josh,” she said desperately, shaking her head. She didn’t want to be the reason Josh lost his job and the testosterone was suddenly so thick she could have cut it with a knife. Violence was imminent.
“Let her go,” Josh said softly, still looking at her boss. “I won’t say it again, Dickson.”
Dickson took a deep, growling breath that jiggled his hair belly and glared up at Josh. “And I won’t say this again—Philomena and I are having an important discussion and until we reach an understanding, she’s not going anywhere. So just turn around and leave, Bowman, or you can kiss your job goodbye.”
“Then I guess you can consider this my two weeks’ notice.” Josh took a step forward, his brown eyes narrowed with rage. He moved so quickly his fist was a blur and Phil didn’t even see the punch until it landed right in Dickson’s face. Her boss didn’t see it either because he didn’t even try to duck. The next thing Phil knew, Dickson was down on the sand holding his streaming nose with both hands and yelping like a kicked dog.
“Come on.” Josh grabbed her hand and pulled her away.
Chapter Thirty
“Oh my God, Josh! What did you…? Why did you…?” Phil looked up at her best friend in shock.
“He had it coming,” Josh said shortly, shaking out his hand as though his knuckles hurt. “Hardheaded son of a bitch—I think he broke my hand.” He gave a short, barking laugh.
Phil looked at him anxiously. “Josh, I just don’t… Why did you do that? Your job—”
“Screw the job.” He frowned at her, the muscle in his strong jaw still jumping. “You don’t know how often I’ve wanted to punch that asshole, Phil. That was for every time he ever pinched you or touched you or made a nasty remark. For every time he made you cry.”
“Oh, Josh…” Right there under the deep blue sky and the hot Florida sun, Phil felt her heart melting like a Popsicle. All her doubts seemed to fade away. How many times had she tried to tell Christian what she went through at work, only to be put off because he was too busy or too tired to hear it? Josh not only listened—he cared enough to do something about it. True, what he had done was macho and over the top and would probably get him fired, but just the fact that he didn’t care if he lost his job as long as he got vengeance for her made her feel even warmer.
Phil put her arms around his neck and hugged him hard. Did she love him? Hell yes! Did she want him in her life as more than a friend? Most definitely. She still wanted to take things slow but she was sure Josh would understand that when she explained how she felt.
Josh pulled her close and wrapped her tight in his arms. He nuzzled his face against the side of her neck and Phil felt a shiver of pleasure run through her at the intimate contact. The hard, muscular wall of his chest felt wonderful pressed against her body and the scent of his skin, warm and spicy, filled her senses.
“I love your hair this way,” he murmured in her ear. “And I’m glad you wore the suit.” He pulled back a little to look her up and down and then glanced at the pale blue expanse above them. “And I was right—it is the exact color of your eyes when the sky is clear.”
Phil still didn’t understand how he could notice such things but she didn’t care either. All that mattered was that she had realized her true feelings for her friend before it was too late. Before he got on the plane for California and she never saw him again. Just the thought made her apprehensive and a new worry entered her head. If he lost his job here for punching out Dickson, the job in California was going to look twice as attractive.
“Josh?” she asked, looking up at him uncertainly. “Are you still going on that job interview?”
He shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling. “Well, I probably should seeing that I’m pretty sure my talents won’t be needed at BB&D any more. But…” He looked down at her hopefully. “Can you give me a reason to stay? I mean, I know it’s not fair to ask while you’re still with Christian…”
Phil shook her head mutely, afraid her words would come out wrong.
“So you’re not with him anymore?” Josh’s face showed a cautious optimism
“I…” Phil shook her head again, emphatically, and clamped her lips shut.
“Phil that’s…God!” he pulled her close again and she shivered when she felt his warm breath against the skin of her throat. “Does this mean you think we could be more than friends?” Josh murmured in her ear. He stroked her hair and pressed a slow, hot kiss to the side of her throat, just the way he had in the RipTide dressing room the day before. “Much more than friends?”
Yes! Yes, I want you in my life as much more than a friend. She opened her mouth and said, “No. I’m sorry, Josh, but I just can’t see you in my life as anything more than a good friend.” Oh, God—now what?
Josh pulled away. “Phil, are you sure? I mean… Maybe I’m coming on too strong. I just…I know you’re probably going to want to take some time if you just got out of a relationship and this is moving kind of fast but I can’t help it…I love you.”
I love you too! I want this as much as you do! I think I’ve always loved you; I just couldn’t let myself admit it while Christian was in the way.
“I’m sorry, Josh,” her traitorous mouth said instead. “But I don’t love you. I don’t think I ever had those feelings for you.”
Josh was pale beneath his tan. He gave a shaky laugh and ran both hands through his thick brown hair. “Okay, well, that’s…” He shrugged. “I guess that’s it then. I’m uh, sorry I misinterpreted your feelings.”
Phil wanted to die. She wanted a hole to open up right there on the beach and swallow her up. Why was her fairy godmother such a bitch? She was losing the sweetest, kindest, best man she had ever known all because of a bit of magic gone wrong. Surely there must be a way around it!
“Wait, I…” She dropped her beach bag, grabbed Josh’s hand and pulled him towards the wet, packed sand closer to the water.
“Phil, look, I really…”
“Wait. Look.” Phil found what she was looking for—a long thin piece of driftwood lying on the wet sand. She grabbed it and began writing in straggling letters along the surf. Josh, I am so not in lo… Crap! Phil looked at what she’d written and kicked sand over it. She moved down the beach, the sun beating on her head like a hammer and her heart pounding in her chest as she tried again. I don’t love y… was as far as she got this time. Dammit! The stupid wish wouldn’t even let her write what she really felt.
“Phil, look. I get the picture—you don’t feel like I do. But you don’t have to write it out. I can take a hint—I’ll go.”
No! Don’t go! “Yes, I guess you’d better leave,” Phil heard herself saying.
Josh muttered something that sounded like, “Sorry.” The set of his broad shoulders was stiff and angry but Phil thought she saw the glitter of tears in his warm brown eyes as he turned. She’d driven away not only her best friend but also very possibly the love of her life.
Standing in the wet sand watching him walk away from her, Phil felt her eyes filling with tears. She wanted to run after him, to stop him from going, but what good would it do? She would only hurt him more because she couldn’t help what came out of her mouth. The more she wanted him, the more she loved him, the more her words would drive him away.
She could imagine life with Josh so clearly—waking up with him in the morning, falling asleep with him at night, being held in his arms, laughing with him, loving him. And all of that was going straight down the drain because of her rotten, stupid
birthday wish! It’s a damn good thing that skinny bitch is in Patagonia, she thought savagely. If I could get my fingers around her scrawny throat…
The tinny strains of “Pachelbel’s Canon” from inside the large straw beach bag cut into her thoughts. Josh was walking fast, already past the area where the BB&D party was being held and there was nothing she could do or say to stop him. Feeling a leaden sense of defeat, Phil wandered back up the sand to where her beach bag was lying on its side and fished for her cell phone.
“Hello?” she said dully, watching as Josh headed for the parking lot, disappearing from her life forever.
“Phil? Are you there? Listen, we have a major crisis over here.”
“Cass? Is that you?” Phil could barely hear her younger sister over the chaos on Cass’s end of the phone. “What’s going on?”
“How fast can you get here?” Cass demanded. “No, never mind that—just come back to the house and hurry.”
“Is it Nana? Did she mix another potion?” Phil demanded, panicking. She wiped the tears away from her eyes and stood up straighter.
“She swears she didn’t but all hell is breaking lose anyway. Down—get down! I mean it!” This last didn’t seem to be directed at Phil. “Look, Phil, just come,” she snapped, and the phone went dead.
Chapter Thirty-One
The broad double doors to the huge lavender house stood wide open and a scene of unbelievable chaos greeted Phil’s arrival.
Nana was standing on the cushions of the brown leather couch that had been in the living room for as long as Phil could remember. Only she wasn’t really standing—she was dancing and holding a broom in her hands. She was beating at what looked liked nineteen or twenty yipping white animals that were trying to jump on the couch to get to her. They were such a blur of motion and activity that it took Phil a moment to realize they were miniature poodles—Mister Clausen hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d had a big batch of them. And every male animal he owned was apparently hot for her grandmother.
“Get away from me! Oh, you naughty animals! Stop it—stop it, I say!” she cried, flailing wildly at the crazed poodles. Every once in a while one of them would make it up onto the couch and start vigorously humping one of Nana’s calves until she swept it off the cushions again with broom.
As Phil watched, stunned, Cass rushed past her with a writhing poodle under each arm. “Well, don’t just stand there!” she shouted. “Grab some poodles and chuck ‘em outside.” She ran to the front door and threw the poodles out, slapping it closed before they could get back in.
“I’ve got some!” Rory stumbled past them still dressed in the smock she wore at the veterinary clinic. Her arms were full of yapping poodles but as she threw her shoulder against the door and tossed them out of the house, the two that Cass had evicted moments before scampered back inside and resumed their frenzied vigil around the couch.
“Oh, no,” Cass groaned. “This is never going to work! Don’t keep letting them in, Rory!”
“I was trying to throw them out!” Rory looked close to tears and Phil wondered how long they had been trying to rid the house of lovesick poodles. She opened her mouth to ask but was interrupted by a pounding on the front door.
In a daze, she opened it, letting in the two dogs Rory had thrown out and coming face to face with a very angry Mister Clausen. Quickly she stepped outside and shut the door behind her, muffling the sounds of poodle panic.
“Yes, Mister Clausen?” she said, smiling helpfully.
“Philomena Swann, I want a word with you. I certainly do!” he exploded. His faded blue eyes were narrowed and his face was so red the shock of cotton white hair that always stuck up from the top of his head looked like it was pasted on a wrinkled beet. He held up a withered, dirt covered object that appeared to be oozing some kind of yellow gunk from one end. “What do you think this is?”
Phil looked at it in confusion. “I don’t know. What is it?”
“It’s the nice éclair I gave you t’other day as a little refreshment. And what do you do with it? Do you eat it? No!” Mister Clausen shoved the decimated pastry in her face and Phil saw that many tiny bites had been taken out of it. But her nose told her everything she needed to know—the eye watering whiff of Nana’s last love potion came from the wizened éclair. “Instead you bury it in the dirt where my prize winning poodles can get at it.”
“I…I…” Phil didn’t know what to say but suddenly the reason for the poodles’ crazy affection for her nana became clear.
“D’ya happen ta know what happens when a dog eats chocolate? Even a little bit like the frostin’ on this here éclair?” Mister Clausen demanded.
As if to answer his question, the door flew open again and Cass stuck her head out. “Phil, get in here quick!” she gasped. “They’re shitting everywhere!”
“What?” Phil turned from the enraged Mister Clausen to her desperate sister.
“Cass is right.” Rory appeared beside her sister, sweating and pushing her bedraggled red hair out of her eyes. “It’s worse than the time we had an outbreak of distemper at the kennel!”
“Wait just a gol durn minute! Have you got some of my dogs in there?” Mister Clausen pushed past Phil and between Cass and Rory to get into the house, despite their efforts to stop him. Phil followed their neighbor; the situation inside had gotten dramatically worse.
“Oh, you naughty…nasty…Oh!” Nana was still beating the poodles back but now she was holding the broom with one hand and her nose with the other. The poodles appeared to be as enthusiastic in their courtship as ever but some of their white curly coats were not quite as white as they had been. Phil stared in dismay at the minefield Nana’s highly polished hardwood floor had become. Then the stench hit her and she gagged.
“Holy cats!” Mister Clausen shouted over the yapping. “What the hell is goin’ on in here? What have ya done to my dogs?”
“Mister Clausen, wait a minute. It’s not what it looks like,” Cass began.
“No, really it’s not!” Rory added. “And we promise that—” But she stopped abruptly. “Mister Clausen? Are you okay?”
Mister Clausen looked at the remains of the éclair, which he still held in one hand and then brought it to his nose and took a deep sniff. Phil could see where this was going, but she didn’t know how to stop it.
“Let him smell it!” she shouted to Cass, who was closest to the old man. “Let him smell it as much as he wants and I’m sure he won’t get the hots for Nana at all!” Of course she was trying to say, Don’t let him smell it or he’ll get the hots for Nana! But the wish wouldn’t let her. Cass only stared at her, uncomprehending.
“Let him smell what? Why would he have the hots for Nana?” she demanded.
Phil realized she would have to take matters into her own hands. Pushing past her sisters she tried to knock the potion-impregnated éclair out of Mister Clausen’s arthritic fingers. But it was too late.
Mister Clausen’s hand clenched and éclair oozed out of his fist. His gaze was already fixed on Nana.
“Minerva!” He growled Nana’s name in a hoarse voice, staggering toward the couch as though being towed by an invisible rope. “Have I ever told you how lovely you are? Your lips like autumn strawberries. Your ears, the tenderest cauliflower. Such a sexy lady!”
“Oh no!” Rory wailed as Mister Clausen reached the couch, kicking his beloved poodles aside and stepping in dog crap to get to their grandmother. “Now he’s nuts for Nana too!”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Cass muttered in disgust. Then she looked at the bottom of her black army boot. “Well, actually, there’s plenty of shit but—”
“This is wonderful,” Phil yelled, no longer caring if what she said made any sense at all. “This isn’t at all what I was trying to warn you about!”
“What do you mean you tried to warn us?” Cass snapped. “You just kept shouting something about letting him smell something.”
Rory frowned. “Yeah, Phil. What were you talking ab
out? Smell what?”
Phil tried to think of a way to explain, but frustration overwhelmed her. “This is the best day of my life!” she stormed. “First I tell my best friend and the love of my life how I really feel about him, so there’s no chance he’s going to fly to California and I’ll never see him again. And then I come home to find this lovely, peaceful scene of domestic tranquility which isn’t even a little bit crazy.”
“Sheesh, Phil, you don’t have to be so sarcastic,” Cass muttered. “We’re sorry we had to interrupt your love connection with Josh but at least you got to tell him how you feel.”
“That’s just it—I did get to tell him how I feel. And I didn’t tell him the exact opposite and drive him out of my life forever at all!” Phil yelled.
“Oh my God—the exact opposite!” Rory’s face went chalk white. “What I said to the FG. Oh, Phil, I’m so sorry! Please tell me you didn’t—”
“Mister Clausen—I’m surprised you’re suggesting such a thing! I assure you that I am not now, nor will I ever be, interested in wearing a dog collar and being your ‘bitch’.” Their grandmother’s sharp voice cut through the conversation and Phil turned to see Nana aim a well-timed swat of the broom at her elderly neighbor instead of his dogs.
“Now then, darlin’, you don’t mean that,” he protested, ducking with surprising agility and trying to get close enough to nibble on her ear. “Let me just show you the collar. It’s the prettiest little thing—just made for a dainty little gal like you.”
“We’ve got to get him off her before he starts humping her leg—or worse,” Cass said darkly.
“Well what are we supposed to do?” Rory wailed. “Call the police and tell them that Nana’s neighbor and about twenty of his dogs are trying to assault her all at once?”
“You know we can’t involve the police!” Cass’s violet eyes flashed. “How could we possibly explain this mess? Hell, I don’t even understand what caused all this in the first place.” She glared at Phil. “Do you?”
Wishful Thinking Page 28