Truth About Men & Dogs

by Andrea Simonne

She turned to me. “I thought you got yourself a Hershey bar.”

  “I did.” I lowered my voice. “But I’ll share mine if you share yours.”

  Our faces were close, but she didn’t move away. “I’ll have you know I’m very possessive when it comes to my Kit Kat.”

  “Is that right?” My eyes went to her mouth. For a split second, I wished I could lean in even closer. I wanted to. I’d bet she tasted like popcorn and chocolate. Instead I turned my head back to the screen, feeling guilty.

  A few moments later, she handed me a piece of her chocolate bar, and I was ridiculously pleased. I broke off a large chunk of my Hershey bar for her.

  We continued to watch the movie, laughing at all the silly parts while sharing the rest of our candy. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone out with a woman like this, just relaxing and having fun.

  When it ended and we headed back to the car, I was genuinely sorry the evening was over. Glancing at my watch, I saw my flight wasn’t scheduled for a couple more hours, and I racked my brain for some way to continue things. Dinner seemed like too much though, and I doubted she’d go for drinks.

  “Would you like to get an ice cream cone?” I asked, remembering a place I saw in town earlier.

  “I don’t know.” Claire buckled herself into her seat. “I still haven’t heard a confession or an apology from you yet.”

  “I promise you’ll get both along with your ice cream.”

  “I better,” she said, and I couldn’t stop my grin.

  As we drove back into town, we passed what looked like an abandoned factory. “What’s that place?” I asked.

  “It used to be a soda bottling plant, but they closed it down a few years ago.” She told me how much it hurt the local economy. “It’s busy here during the summer months because of the tourists, but it gets slow during the winter.”

  “Why was it closed?”

  “The company moved its facility overseas. I guess the labor was cheaper.”

  I nodded. It was a familiar story.

  After parking, we got out and headed toward the ice cream parlor. There were plenty of people out enjoying the warm summer evening. The scent of saltwater filled the air. Despite my earlier complaints about coming here, I couldn’t deny the town had its charms. It was quaint and old-fashioned. Nothing like the city, but I could see how some people might enjoy the slower pace. It was like stepping back in time.

  I tried to talk to her some more about Doug, mentioning how he would have liked that movie, that he had a good sense of humor.

  “Really?” She tilted her head. “I can’t picture that, but then I don’t know him very well.”

  “You should get to know him,” I encouraged her. “He’s a decent guy.”

  “I’m sure he is. But like I said, I’m not interested in getting romantically involved with anyone.”

  After getting our cones, we walked down to the waterfront. It was balmy out near the harbor with a nice breeze. All the lampposts were lit, and there were tiny lights strung everywhere.

  “So what flavor is that?” she asked as I bit into my ice cream.

  “Coffee.”

  Her brows went up. “I thought you said you didn’t like coffee.”

  “I don’t like to drink it, but it’s my favorite flavor of ice cream.”

  “Well, that makes no sense.”

  I chuckled. “I suppose not. How’s your rum raisin?”

  She considered me for a moment. “Would you like a taste?”

  We stood by the wood rail that ran the length of the harbor. She offered up her ice cream cone, and I put my hand over hers to hold it steady while I had a quick lick. It was sweet and creamy with a rich rum flavor.

  “Not bad.”

  “It’s my favorite.”

  “You know, I have an ancestor who used to smuggle rum. He’s probably rolling over in his grave that it’s become so ubiquitous nowadays.”

  Her eyes widened. “You have an ancestor who smuggled rum?”

  I nodded. “My grandfather, a few generations back, was a pirate. He smuggled all sorts of contraband up and down the East Coast and the West Indies. He stole ships too—one from the British Navy, apparently.”

  She seemed to have forgotten her ice cream and was staring at me. “How do you know all this?”

  “My aunt Linda—Doug’s mom—is into genealogy. She did our whole family tree a while back.”

  “What was his name?”

  “Jonathan Quick. Though I guess everybody called him Quicksilver.”

  Her eyes widened. “Quicksilver?”

  I took another bite of my ice cream and grinned. “Maybe I shouldn’t be admitting all this. Kind of an infamous relative.”

  “Quicksilver was your distant grandfather?” She had a strange look on her face.

  “He was. Why? Have you heard of him?”

  She nodded and looked out at the water. “Pirates are part of the history here.”

  “Is that right?” I bit into my cone.

  “They used the harbor as a refuge and a hiding place. We have a festival here every summer called Pirate Days.”

  “I never knew they came this far north.”

  “Oh, they did.” She turned back to me again. “I guess from growing up here, I’ve always been fascinated by pirates. I mean, I know they were bad guys,” she amended.

  “Yes, they were.”

  She didn’t say anything more, just continued to stare at me with that strange expression.

  “Your ice cream is melting,” I pointed out.

  “Oh?” She blinked down at it and then licked around the edges where it was dripping. I tried very hard not to let my mind go into the gutter.

  I’m here to help Doug, I told myself. My cousin is in love with this woman.

  The problem was I found her appealing. She was damn cute. I liked how she didn’t put on airs and spoke her mind. I’d dealt with so many women over the years who wanted to play games. I hadn’t realized how tired I’d grown of it all until now.

  We both leaned against the wooden rail, gazing out at the harbor as we finished our ice cream. Boat lights glimmered in the distance. There were dozens of boats moored nearby, with some of the owners sitting on deck enjoying the warm evening.

  I checked my watch again.

  “Do you have to leave for your flight soon?”

  “I’ve still got a little time.”

  “Good.” She turned toward me and gave me her full attention. “Because I’m still waiting for that confession.”

  I chuckled to myself. It was clear she wasn’t going to let me get away with it. I decided to tell her the truth. “You were right. I took your phone that day we first met.”

  Her eyes stayed on mine. The gold flecks in them burned. “I knew it. How could you do that?”

  “I swear I was only trying to make a phone call. I was planning to give it right back to you afterward.”

  “And that’s supposed to comfort me?”

  “It was more like I borrowed it. In fact, I was planning to drive out and return it to you that night, but then you showed up at the house.”

  “Do you know how much that stressed me out?” Those golden flecks were turning into a bonfire. “I have all my clients’ info on there, all the stuff for my business. That phone is my life!”

  I frowned, taking this in. “Well, I hope you have backups for everything. If not, you should.”

  “I can’t believe you hacked my phone!” she ranted, her hands flying in the air. “What kind of person does that?”

  “I didn’t actually hack it,” I admitted. Absurd as it was, I still felt irritated—embarrassed even—that I couldn’t crack her phone. When I was younger, that would have been a no-brainer for me. I wondered if I was slipping.

  That gave her pause. “You didn’t?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  I stared out at the harbor. “Some of the security loopholes have apparently been fixed.” I knew I should quit talk
ing. Explaining my hacking inadequacies was nuts and was obviously not going to help my case.

  She shook her head. “So you’ve hacked other people’s phones?”

  “Not as a habit. Only in an emergency, actually.”

  “Why would you even know how to do something like that?”

  I shrugged, then rubbed my jaw uncomfortably. “It’s just one of those weird things I know about.” She went quiet. “Look, I apologize for causing you distress. I realize it was an asshole thing to do.” I let my breath out. “I’m very sorry.”

  “You should be.”

  “I know. And I am.”

  She appeared to be taking my measure, and I found myself in the strange position of feeling genuinely lousy for something I’d done. I wasn’t normally an asshole, but she didn’t know that. I guess we all have our moments though. I hoped she accepted my apology and this didn’t ruin things between us.

  I watched her gaze out at the water, like she was thinking it over. “So that night, you figured out a way for Doug to find my phone on the beach?”

  “Something like that.” I lowered my voice and leaned toward her. “I thought I was doing a nice thing there since he likes you so much.”

  She shot me a look. “And I’m sure he’d never ‘borrow’ my phone.”

  “Probably not.”

  She was quiet again after that, staring out at the water. I studied her a little. There were faint shadows beneath her eyes. Her jaw had a determined set, but there was something vulnerable there too. I wondered what had happened that she never dated.

  From my time at her house the past couple days, I’d learned a bit about her. I knew she left for work early and came home late. There were boxes of cleaning supplies and other items stacked in her living room. Sticky notes everywhere. Some of them had inspirational quotes on them while others were reminders for things she needed to do. From what I could tell, she was pouring her heart and soul into making her maid service a success.

  It reminded me a lot of my early days. The days before Gavin and I started NorthStone. I was a young entrepreneur back then, and I worked hard too, even harder than I did now. Every day a hustle. I remembered putting sticky notes everywhere. In truth, I felt a strong affinity toward her. I wanted her good opinion.

  “I really am sorry,” I said. “Sometimes I get so caught up in my own priorities that I don’t take into account how I’m affecting other people.”

  She didn’t reply.

  “Do you think you could forgive me?”

  “I guess so.” She sighed. “But it’s probably best if you take me home now.”

  Chapter Ten

  ~ Claire ~

  Despite my certainty that Philip had taken my phone, it was a disappointment to find out I was right. The problem was I was enjoying myself so much with him tonight, I’d forgotten he was an asshat.

  An asshat with a pirate ancestor of all things.

  His apology seemed sincere, and I could tell he felt bad. I believed him when he said he meant to return it to me that night.

  But still.

  I looked out the car window. Why were men so much trouble? More trouble than they were worth. I’d dealt with enough of their crap to last me a lifetime.

  Neither of us spoke much on the ride back. As we pulled into the narrow driveway that led down to the carriage house, there was a car parked there I didn’t recognize—a gray Toyota.

  “Are you expecting company?” Philip asked, pulling up behind my Kia.

  “No.” I stared at the Toyota in bewilderment. “I have no idea who that car belongs to.” I looked over toward my house, but bushes blocked the front porch.

  He parked the SUV, and we both got out. I almost told him he didn’t need to do that, that he could leave, then realized I was glad he’d gotten out with me. It was quiet outside in the woods. Dark too. I’d forgotten to leave my porch light on earlier. My little house always seemed straight out of a fairy tale, but tonight it looked ominous and more like a scary tale.

  We walked up the stone pathway, but when we got to the front, nobody was there.

  I looked around. “That’s weird. I don’t see anyone.”

  Philip was looking around too. “You have no idea whose car that is back there?”

  “None.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t like this. I’m coming inside with you.”

  Despite living in the woods alone, I’d never felt scared before. I mean, the main house wasn’t that far away, and I enjoyed my privacy. Oftentimes I’d sit on my porch late at night, listening to the quiet or the occasional sounds made by the creatures that lived here.

  When I got to the door, I tried to open it with my key but discovered it was already unlocked. Philip saw it too.

  “Stay here,” he whispered, putting his hand on my arm. “I’m going to check inside. Be ready to call the police.”

  I nodded, my pulse kicking up. “Okay.”

  He stepped in front of me to enter the house. I had my phone out, waiting and ready. I swallowed nervously. I could barely believe this was happening.

  My heart raced as I tried to make sense of the situation. If someone wanted to rob me, would they really park their car right out front like that? I had nothing worth stealing anyway.

  Suddenly the lights turned on, and I heard male voices shouting. One of them was Philip’s. My pulse skyrocketed, and I nearly dialed 911, but then I recognized the second voice.

  I could barely contain my fury. I don’t believe this.

  I pushed through the front door. The first thing I saw was Philip standing in my living room, ready to brain my ex-husband with a chunk of plywood.

  The two men were still shouting as I rushed over. “What the hell are you doing here?” I yelled at Ethan. “You broke into my house?”

  Philip turned to me, eyes blazing. “You know this guy?”

  “I didn’t break into your house,” Ethan huffed. He gripped the edge of my bed. His clothes were rumpled, and angrily, I realized he must have been lying on it. “I know where the spare key is kept.”

  “You have no right to enter my home! I don’t care if you know where the key is.” I made a mental note to move that stupid thing. “What are you even doing here?”

  “I just wanted to talk to you,” Ethan said, his voice slurred. “I miss you.” He ran a hand through his hair before looking at me with a heartsick expression. “I think I’m still in love with you, Claire.”

  “Oh my God.” I shook my head with disbelief. “Are you drunk?”

  Philip was standing beside me, still holding that piece of plywood, and for an instant I wondered if I should let him give Ethan a good whack.

  “Is this a friend of yours?” Philip asked me.

  “Not exactly.” I sighed. “We used to be married.”

  “I needed to see you,” Ethan said in a pleading voice. “Don’t you know what day it is today? It’s our wedding anniversary.”

  I went completely still. It is? I’d been so busy having fun at the movies earlier that I’d forgotten all about it. And then I felt proud of myself. This was the first year since our divorce where I hadn’t even noticed it.

  “So what?” I said. “Go home to Ivy. I don’t want you here.”

  “You don’t mean that. I know you don’t.” He took a step toward me and tried to put his hand out, but Philip blocked him.

  “You heard what she said.” His voice was quiet but lethal. “You need to leave.”

  Ethan stared at him. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m—”

  “He’s my boyfriend,” I blurted out. I had no idea what lunacy possessed me to say such a thing. I just wanted Ethan to stop pestering me.

  “Boyfriend?” Ethan blinked like he’d been slapped. “You have a boyfriend?”

  “Yes, I do.” I glanced at Philip to see how he was taking this new development, but his face was impassive, still staring at Ethan.

  “I thought you never dated,” Ethan said. “That’s what Ivy tol
d me. That’s what everyone told me.” His expression softened. “I figured it was because you still missed me.” He looked at Philip, bleary-eyed, like he still couldn’t believe it. “You’re really her boyfriend?”

  “I am.” Philip turned to me, and there was the hint of a smile on his face. “As a matter of fact, Claire and I are crazy about each other.”

  I tried not to smile back.

  “I can’t believe it. How could you?” Ethan stumbled over and sat down on my bed. He let out a shaky breath and then glared at me. “How could you be with another man?”

  I clenched my jaw in outrage. There were no words. None.

  When I glanced at Philip, he was studying Ethan like he was an insect. But then I remembered he had a plane to catch tonight. “Listen, I can take care of this. You should leave. You’re going to miss your flight.”

  Philip turned and looked at me like I was nuts. “Are you kidding? I’m not leaving you alone with this asshole.”

  “Don’t worry, he’s harmless. I can handle him.” I glanced over at Ethan, who was still sitting on my bed, mumbling about wanting another drink. It was then I noticed the empty wine bottle on my nightstand.

  Philip’s eyes were on me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I’ll just call his wife to come pick him up.” Though I wasn’t looking forward to that conversation. I already knew somehow Ivy would make this my fault.

  “Do you have any more… wine?” Ethan asked, hiccupping. “Let’s open another… bottle. What do you say?”

  I licked my lips, embarrassed about all this. “I’m sure you don’t want to get involved in someone’s pathetic family drama.”

  “Claire.” Philip leaned closer. “I’m staying.”

  “But what about your flight to Seattle?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t care. I’ll call and cancel it. I’m not leaving you alone with this guy.”

  I didn’t mean to smile, but I couldn’t stop myself. Ethan was still carrying on about wanting more wine. “Okay, thanks. I appreciate it.”

  Philip’s eyes met mine, and when he saw me smiling, he smiled too. “I mean, come on.” He lowered his voice. “What kind of boyfriend do you think I am?”