by Dena Blake
She’d only been asleep for what felt like a minute or two when the phone jolted her awake. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Seven a.m. Who the hell was calling her this early? Evelyn’s name was on the screen, so she hit the answer button and said, “What now?”
“Are you sick?” Evelyn sounded angry.
“I’m fine. Yesterday was a long day.” She usually didn’t get into the office until after eight.
“Not as long as today’s going to be if you don’t get your ass in here.” She couldn’t tell if Evelyn was angry or being urgent now.
“What’s going on?”
“I didn’t want you in this position. I didn’t have a choice. So, get up, get dressed, and be in my office by nine o’clock.” The line went dead.
“What the fuck?” She stared at the phone screen. Considering the shift in responsibilities, Wynn had given Evelyn plenty of latitude in recent months, but just who the hell did she think she was talking to?
She dragged herself out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. Shadow squealed as she tripped over her. She dropped to her knees and checked on her. Shadow was a puppy again. Tiny kisses and puppy breath covered her face. Joy filled her as she soaked up the love.
She looked into the puppy’s eyes and wouldn’t have known it wasn’t Shadow. But it couldn’t possibly be her. She’d tripled in size since she’d brought her home. Shadow licked her again before she stood. “Come on, honey. Let’s go out first, and then you can eat.”
The puppy followed her down the hallway, and before she got to the back door, she stepped in something wet. “Shit.” She hopped on one foot to the kitchen, spun a paper towel from the holder, wet it, and cleaned the bottom of her foot. The puppy sprinted to the back door, where she immediately squatted and peed. “Oh my gosh.” She shook her head as little black eyes stared up at her. “I thought I was done with this.” She slid open the door and let her outside. April, her assistant, also known as the practical joker, was going to pay for this. She’d given her a house key only for emergencies, so it had to be her doing. Wynn would demand she return it immediately. She was always up for a good joke, but this one was ridiculously elaborate. How had she even pulled it off?
Leaving the sliding-glass door slightly open for the puppy to come in when she was done, Wynn went into the kitchen and searched for the hardwood floor cleaner under the sink before she spun a few paper towels from the holder. After cleaning up the mess, she found Shadow’s bowl, filled it with puppy chow, which had replaced Shadow’s food, and placed it on the floor. She hoped April was feeding Shadow the correct food. If not, that would be a whole other world of problems she’d have to deal with tomorrow when they switched the dogs again.
Once the puppy was inside, Wynn closed and locked the sliding door, then rummaged through the pantry for her usual choice of corn flakes for breakfast. Locating a box toward the back, she yawned as she took it out of the cupboard. She scrunched her brows when she saw Toucan Sam staring at her. Froot Loops? That had been her favorite sugar-coated cereal when she was younger. She hadn’t eaten it in over a year. In fact, she’d recently quit eating breakfast altogether since she’d started fasting in the morning. How did it get here? She checked the expiration date, which was last year, opened the box, and found the plastic bag inside unopened. Had she stopped to buy it last night? After tearing open the top, she sniffed the contents before she tasted one piece. They seemed to still be okay, so she filled a bowl, doused it with milk, and took a huge bite.
Her cheeks puffed, and she ran to the kitchen sink and spit out the liquid that was violently attacking her taste buds. She cupped several drinks of water into her mouth and swished them around to rinse the evil taste from her tongue. It had the consistency of house paint, and she gagged a few times before she’d finally rid her mouth of the taste and swiped her face with a paper towel. She took the milk container from the refrigerator and studied the label. Soy milk. No wonder. Where the hell did that come from? She’d tried it once when that was the thing to do, but had sworn never to buy it again. She never could adjust to the chalky, bean taste. She poured it down the sink before she took a handful of cereal and shoved it into her mouth. She needed sugar in any way she could find it this morning.
She padded down the hallway to the bedroom and into the bathroom and grazed the wall with her hand, finding a gaping hole. Why was there a hole, and where the hell was the light switch? She grabbed the doorframe to steady herself before she searched the other wall and hit pay dirt. What the hell? She squeezed her eyes closed and then opened them again. The bathroom was incredibly small, and everything was backward. Tools were strewn on the floor, and the toilet was gone. She pressed her fingers to her head. This was no practical joke any longer. It was clearly a nightmare, set while she was having the house remodeled. She would never again live for months enduring random contractors working in and out of her house while leaving everything in constant disarray. She spun and rushed to the guest bathroom, where all her toiletries were meticulously placed on the counter. Her phone rang again, Evelyn’s assigned ringtone, so she could avoid her when necessary.
The shower would have to wait until tonight. She’d had one before she took Carly to dinner last night. She wet her hands before running her fingers through her short hair to flatten the stray patches sticking out before she mussed it and added product to keep it in place. Then she washed her face, applied lotion, and spritzed herself with cologne, per her usual routine. She rushed to the closet and dressed in the first suit she found, a black, notched-collar one she’d bought from Express early in her career. Hadn’t she donated it long ago? She tugged on the slacks and slipped on a white button-down before she put on the jacket. At least it still fit. In fact, it looked pretty good on her.
* * *
Carly hadn’t been able to get thoughts of Wynn Jamison out of her head since she’d heard the text chime on her phone this morning and saw a message from her. She’d put Wynn’s number in her phone long ago, when they’d started working Suzanna’s events together. She couldn’t remember the exact reason Wynn had provided the number, but it wasn’t for anything more than event business. At least she’d thought so at the time.
She’d felt an odd sense of jealousy when she’d read the text, knowing it was meant for someone else. She shook her head. That was ridiculous. She’d never given Wynn any indication she had any interest in seeing her. They’d never even been on a date. Yet the sinking feeling in her stomach told her she’d thought maybe something might happen between them in the future. She read the text again, running her finger across it as she second-guessed her response.
Thanks for taking me home last night. I’m not sure what happened after we kissed.
She’d checked the name on the screen again. Although the thought of kissing Wynn had come into her thoughts before, Carly hadn’t been the one Wynn kissed last night. She definitely hadn’t expected the pang of disappointment she felt knowing Wynn was making out with another woman.
I think this text might be meant for someone else.
It had been a few weeks since Carly had even seen Wynn. Her dashingly handsome smile flashed through her head, and she remembered noticing her soft curves accentuated perfectly by her slim-fitting suit. She could never resist a sharply dressed, adorable butch.
Sorry. Blame it all on me. I overstepped.
What in the world was Wynn talking about? Hopefully she’d find out soon. She was helping Suzanna at the Children’s Hospital fund-raiser Jordan was putting on tonight, and Wynn was usually there as well.
Again, not me. She’d moved her fingers quickly across the letters and then carefully contemplated her next words. Some other lucky girl. She’d hit send before she could rethink her text.
Carly had never been one to make the first move, and her response was a bolder step than she’d ever taken with a woman. She had plenty of confidence in her career, but not nearly as much in her personal life. Probably why she always ended up with the wrong women.
The phone on her desk rang, jarring her out of her thoughts, and she picked up the receiver. “Hello.”
“Doctor Evans. The Baxters are here,” Stephanie said.
“Send them in, please.” She got up from her desk chair, crossed the room, and opened the door. They were just coming down the hallway. “Good morning. How are you two today?”
“I’ve been better,” Mike said, and Sara gave her a thin smile. Not the response she’d hoped for. They came in and took their usual seats at opposite ends of the couch. She’d removed all but one comfortable chair and the couch from her office to prevent couples from sitting so far away they couldn’t communicate.
“I’m sensing some tension today. Anything you want to discuss?” She hadn’t been counseling them for long, so she hadn’t picked up on all their body language yet, but they seemed frustrated today.
Sara glanced at Mike and then at Carly. “He doesn’t want counseling.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“You just sat out there in the waiting room and said it was stupid.”
She closed the notebook in her lap. “Is that so?” It wasn’t the first time she’d heard that sentiment from a client. “How long have you two been together?” She avoided addressing the “stupid” comment.
“A little over a year,” Mike said.
“That’s not very long in the grand scheme of things. Remember, every marriage evolves over time. You’re doing exactly that as we speak.”
He drew his brows together. “What do you mean?”
“Coming here was a huge step. You both realize you have issues that you can’t resolve without help.” She handed each of them a pad and pen. “I want you to write down how satisfied you are in your marriage on a scale of one to ten.” She watched as they hesitated and glanced at each other. “Don’t show it to each other. Fold the paper and give it to me. This is for my information only.”
She collected the folded pieces of paper but didn’t read them. “Now you need to explain to yourself why you chose that number.”
“I chose—”
“Don’t tell me.” Carly put up her hand. “Write it down.” This step always took longer than the couples expected. It was hard to put into words why they felt the way they did. “This is an important step, so take your time.” She surreptitiously unfolded each of the pieces of paper in her hand and kept her expression blank as she read the numbers, a technique she had learned to master long ago. They were both within the five-to-seven range, which meant they would have to do some work, but they still had a good deal of hope and might be able to succeed.
“If it makes you feel any better, it takes most couples six years or more to seek counseling after they find they have issues. So, you two are way ahead of the curve.”
They both smiled, which signaled that they were willing to make their marriage work.
“What’s your biggest pet peeve? Other than coming here.” She pulled her lips into a one-sided smirk.
“She gets upset when I talk to her about budgeting.” Mike seemed to want to get right to the point.
Sara threw her hands up. “One minute we’re arguing over how to load the dishwasher, and the next we’re fighting about spending money on what he calls luxury foods.”
“So now she won’t go to the grocery store, ever.”
“What about you, Sara?” The issues were sometimes the same, but usually on different ends of the spectrum.
“Your family never includes the—” she held up her fingers in air quotes “—in-laws in family photos. Do you know how expendable that makes me feel?”
That would probably irritate Carly as well. If she ever married, none of that kind of separation would happen. Family was all-inclusive, blood or not.
“My mom wants a picture of her kids. She doesn’t mean anything by it.”
“Why don’t you ever say anything about it to her or ask if we can take a picture of all of us?”
“Honestly, I didn’t think about it. It’s a pain in the ass for me to get to wherever she wants us at the time she schedules a photo shoot in the first place. I didn’t know it bothered you.”
“Well, it does.”
“Okay. I’ll ask next time.”
Carly held in a chuckle. If these two only knew how minimal their issues were compared to some of the other couples she counseled. She had to respect Sara for not ignoring them. Little things like that could snowball into monstrous anger and regret that overshadowed all the reasons two people became a couple in the beginning.
Chapter Seven
Wynn stopped at the specialty coffee place located not far from her house and went inside. Thank God it still looked the same. She smiled at Sally, the cute barista she’d once had a thing with, as she came to the counter holding a cup. It had been a while since Sally had done that. Wynn usually just got an evil stare from a distance. Maybe she was getting over whatever it was they’d had. Wynn had gotten past it long ago.
“Nonfat, vanilla latte, just the way you like it.”
She reached for the coffee. “Thanks.”
Sally moved the cup from her reach and then reared back, hurled it forward, and coffee spilled out of the cup. As if in slow motion, it hit Wynn just below her neck, splattering across her crisp white shirt.
“What the hell?” She pinched the button down between her fingers and pulled it away from her chest. It wasn’t scalding hot, but it was…ick. Thankfully, she’d left her jacket in the Jeep.
“You don’t get to come in here acting like everything is great when you fucking broke my heart.” Nope. Not over it.
“Jesus, Sally. What was that for?”
“Seriously? You break up with me through text, and you don’t know what’s wrong?”
A couple of people handed her stacks of napkins. She mindlessly took them and sopped up the liquid, making her shirt cling to her chest. The coffee-shop chatter was gone now, everyone in the place watching them, eyes glued to her, waiting for her response.
“What are you talking about? We haven’t gone out in months.”
One of the other baristas held up a phone, and Wynn read the screen.
I’m not going to be able to make it tonight.
But I bought a new dress.
I’m sorry. I have another commitment I forgot about.
Fucking ridiculous.
Maybe we should take a break.
She still had the text? Wow, that was some attachment for casual sex. Wynn had blocked Sally’s number from her phone and hadn’t been back to this particular coffee shop for at least six months after the first time Sally had doused her with coffee. Had she been waiting all this time to do it again? When Wynn had sent the text, she was confused about the situation, stuck in something she didn’t know how to end. Sally was awesome in bed, but she was also high-strung and hot-tempered. Wynn saw her temper often, having to tiptoe around her more than once. She just couldn’t take Sally’s short fuse any longer, so she’d done the cowardly thing and sent her a breakup text. It was a shitty thing to do, but her only option at that time.
She rushed out of the shop to her Jeep. She needed to find somewhere to change. The clock read eight thirty, so she was going to be late. She drove to her sister Suzanna’s house and knocked on the door lightly. It was still summer vacation for the kids, and Suzanna would be pissed if she woke them this early.
The door swung open. “Hey.” Suzanna smiled and then took in Wynn’s appearance. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Long story.” She pushed past her inside. “I need to borrow one of James’s shirts.”
“The barista didn’t like your message, eh?” Suzanna laughed. “I told you not to do it that way.” She led Wynn into the bedroom. “Why in the world did you go there for coffee this morning?”
“I wasn’t thinking about it.” She’d figured Sally would be over it by now. Sally must’ve been waiting for the perfect opportunity.
“Exactly why you shouldn’t have gone out with her in
the first place.” Suzanna took a powder-blue shirt from the closet, held it up in front of Wynn, and then put it back. “If you were in the right relationship, you’d be thinking about her every minute of the day.” She took out one that was pale pink. “This should work. I can’t help you with the bra, though.”
“That’s fine. It’s dry enough.” She took off her shirt. “I’ll just smell like coffee all day.”
“An ingenious new scent.” Suzanna smiled as she slipped the shirt from the hanger and handed it to Wynn. “You’re coming tonight, right?”
“Where?”
“Jordan’s fund-raiser? You and Carly always help, remember?”
Her mind was right there with Carly again after dinner last night, looking into confused green eyes, feeling the kiss that came next. She shook the thought from her head. “Right. I must’ve mixed up the dates.” She wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to see Carly again, that was for sure. Even if it meant tolerating Jordan. She finished buttoning her shirt and rushed to the door. “I gotta go. I’m already late for work. Big changes happening there.”
Suzanna followed her. “I hope you’re looking at the big picture and not just the near future.” Suzanna had always been good at offering advice and words of wisdom to Wynn when she was confused. “Remember, one step forward and two steps back is hard to overcome.”
“I got it.” She raced to her Jeep and stopped before getting in. “And no birthday cake tonight.”
Suzanna scrunched her eyebrows together. “Duh. Your birthday’s not until tomorrow.”
That was weird. Suzanna had actually forgotten her birthday, or was it just a guise to throw Wynn off? They would have cake tonight, and Suzanna would embarrass her as usual, but she would enjoy every minute of it because the whole event was created out of love.