by Sarah Morgan
“No, instead they’ll be blaming this agony aunt.” Daniel dismissed the topic and made for the door. “Do you own a dog?”
“Two. Why?”
“Do they come when you call them?”
“Usually. Unless they spot something better in the distance.” She looked baffled. “Why are you asking me about dogs?”
Daniel was about to tell her about Brutus and then decided against it. Walking the dog was only a temporary thing. He didn’t need to become an expert.
“I had no idea so many people owned dogs in New York. What happens to them during the day when you’re here?”
“I use a dog-walking company. Is this your way of telling me you’re about to become a dog owner?”
“Why the horrified look?”
“I— No reason. I guess I didn’t see you as a dog person.”
“And what does a ‘dog person’ look like?” He thought about Molly’s long legs and the way she smiled at Valentine. If that was how a dog person looked, then it just might be his new favorite thing.
“For a start they don’t generally wear custom-made suits and work eighteen-hour days. And dog people usually have a soft side.”
“I have a soft side, which is why I’m about to walk away from that mountain of work on my desk and go and wish Audrey happy birthday. Team bonding. Oh, and Marsha—” he paused in the doorway “—let’s find out who ‘Aggie’ is. Get Max onto it.”
“You need advice on dating?”
“No. I need to tell her to stay the hell away from my clients.”
Six
Dear Aggie, why do women say they’re “ fine” when they’re obviously not fine? What exactly does “ fine” mean? I suspect it’s a code word and I need it deciphered. Yours, Confused.
“How can human beings treat animals so badly?” Harriet shifted position so that the puppy on her lap was more comfortable. “He’s six weeks old. How can anyone want to harm something so vulnerable?”
“I don’t know but he’s safe now because he has you, and you’re the best place for lost and abandoned things.” Fliss pulled on her running shoes and pulled her hair into a ponytail. “I need to go. I have a packed day.”
“Already? You haven’t eaten breakfast.” She sniffed the air. “What’s that terrible smell? Are we on fire?”
“My toast was on fire but don’t worry. I can’t cook, but I can douse flames.”
“You can’t leave without eating something.”
“Energy bar.” Fliss dug her hand in her pocket and produced the evidence.
Harriet shuddered. “That’s not breakfast. That’s a nutritional insult.”
“I don’t have time for anything else. I’m seeing a new client, taking Paris the poodle to the vet for Annie because she’s going to be out of town overnight and then I have twelve private walks. At least it keeps me slim. Which is good because I intend to stop in at Magnolia Bakery on my way home and buy something that someone else has cooked. Can I tempt you with anything?”
Harriet shook her head. “I’m going to have a baking session later, though, so you could save your bakery trip for another day.”
“Your famous chocolate chip cookies? Yum. This is why I love you.” Fliss swept up her keys on her way to the door and paused. “By the way, Molly has booked Valentine in for three walks next week. She has to proofread her book and she has a meeting with her publisher.”
“No problem. I adore Valentine. He’s the cutest dog on the planet.”
“You say that about every dog.”
“True.” Harriet stroked the puppy’s soft fur with the tip of her finger. “Have a good day. You don’t want to wait to see Daniel? You were in the shower when he picked Brutus up.” She flushed as she saw Fliss raise her eyebrows. “What? I actually think the name suits him better than Ruffles. Ruffles should be a cute poodle, or maybe a schnauzer. A griffon. Not a sturdy German shepherd with muscles in all the right places. Daniel is right.”
“Don’t tell him that. He’ll be insufferable.”
“I like seeing him with the dog.”
“Why? Because you think it’s good to see him caring about something other than himself?”
“He’s always cared for us,” Harriet said stubbornly and Fliss sighed.
“Yeah, I know. Don’t make me feel guilty. And you and I both know he’s going to dump the dog as soon as he gets the girl. And then he’ll dump the girl soon after that. It’s standard Daniel operating procedure. No exceptions. So don’t start spinning happy endings.”
“At least he dates. It’s more than we do.”
“You want to date?”
“Yes.” Harriet was honest. “I do. I’d like to meet someone. I want a home and a family.” She caught the puppy before it could wriggle off her lap. “Don’t you?”
“I’m too busy having the time of my life to let a man mess it up. See you later.” Fliss strode to the door with a long, loping stride, and as the door slammed behind her the puppy in Harriet’s lap gave a startled jump.
“She only knows one way to close a door,” Harriet soothed. “You’ll get used to her.” And then she realized he wouldn’t be getting used to her because he wouldn’t be staying. He was a puppy, and a cute one at that. It wouldn’t take long for them to find him a family. “We need to find you a perfect match. People you’ll be happy with.”
And maybe she should do the same for herself.
It was no good saying she wanted to date and then doing nothing about it.
She transferred the puppy from her lap to the sofa. “Maybe I should put myself up for adoption.”
* * *
Molly sprawled on the sofa and watched while Mark slowly added hot stock to the risotto. “So I’ve seen him in the park every day for the past two weeks walking his dog, and we’ve chatted a bit. Well, a lot in fact. And then he asked me to dinner. Dinner isn’t an accident. Dinner isn’t a casual meet-up. It’s a decision. It’s a step. And I said no. Do you think I’m a coward?” She decided there was nothing more relaxing than watching Mark cook. His movements were smooth and unhurried, nothing like the panic that occurred when she was in the kitchen. Mark was as much an artist with food as he was with a pencil and paper. “When you know you’re bad at something, should you simply give up? Or should you practice? If you fall off a horse because you’re a truly terrible rider surely it’s better to decide that horseback riding isn’t for you and take up swimming instead?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think.” He added another ladle of bubbling stock. “It’s what you think that matters.”
“There’s only room for one psychologist in this friendship and I’ve already nabbed that position.”
“So you don’t need me to explain your behavior. But for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a coward. There’s nothing wrong with protecting yourself, Molly.”
“I know but—” She bit her lip. “My dad said I was a hypocrite. I made him get back out there after Mum left and he says I’m refusing to do the same after Rupert.”
“From what you’ve told me, Rupert was a dick.”
Molly felt her face heat. She’d only told him a small portion of what had happened. “He was, but it was complicated.” You have no idea how to be in a relationship. She swallowed. “I have a few issues.”
“Everyone has issues, Molly.”
“Mine impair my ability to engage in healthy relationships.”
“Listen to yourself, Dr. Parker. If you can diagnose it, why can’t you fix it?”
“I’m not sure I want to fix it. Love is a risk. I’m wary for a reason.”
“Big risk comes with big reward.”
“I’m not sure I see it is a reward.” She took a deep breath. “It isn’t only about protecting my heart, it’s about professional security. I’ve rebuilt my life and I’m happy. I don’t want to mess with that. It’s important to play to your strengths in life. Relationships aren’t my strength.”
“That’s not true. You’re a great friend.�
�
She thought about all the people she’d lost touch with. People who had cut her out when her life had fallen apart. “Friendship is different.”
“What’s a partnership if you don’t have friendship?” He tilted the pan slightly and stirred again to stop the rice sticking. “I think being happy and fulfilled is the goal. Maybe you don’t need another person. It’s not as if you don’t have plenty of friends. Good friends.” He stopped stirring and sent her a look. “Friends who are going to be there for you through thick and thin.”
She’d told him that part. How when her life had fallen apart in a very public way, her friends had distanced themselves.
“You’d trend on Twitter for me?”
He smiled. “For you, honey, anything.”
Her insides warmed. “That’s good, but I’ve had as much thick and thin as I can handle in one lifetime. And I agree with everything you say. So why does part of me wish I’d said yes to him?”
Mark lowered the heat under the pan. “Blame it on hormones.”
“I hate hormones. And I hate the way society puts pressure on us to behave in certain ways and conform to certain stereotypes. If you’re single, people always pat you on the head sympathetically and say that they’re sure you’ll meet someone soon. Then you get married, and they ask when you’re going to have a baby. There’s an order to things. It’s assumed that not being part of a pair makes you someone to be pitied. As if single is an abnormal state that needs to be rectified.”
Mark added the last of the stock to the risotto. “If you want to explore the pressure society puts on an individual to conform, try being gay. Try being the one weird kid in high school.”
“I was the one weird kid in high school until they discovered I was great at matching people up. Then I had a purpose. And I love it. I think it’s my vocation. Helping other people find the right person. Why does it matter that I can’t do it for myself? Orthopedic surgeons don’t have to break a leg to know how to fix a fracture.”
“That’s all true, but don’t you find it exhausting leading this whole double life?”
“It’s not really a double life.”
“You have a pseudonym and a whole persona you don’t tell people about.”
“That’s not exhausting, it’s fun. I happen to love that part. It’s my invisibility cloak. My disguise.”
Mark put the ladle down. “I know all about wearing a disguise. For years I walked around with this huge secret inside me. It was like wearing a fancy dress costume. No one knew who I was underneath.”
“And didn’t that make you feel safe?”
Mark paused. “Honestly? No. It made me feel alone and isolated. That’s the downside of keeping secrets.” He turned back to the stove. “I hope Gabe is back soon or this will ruin.”
There was nothing better, Molly thought, than having neighbors who turned into great friends.
Their apartment was on the floor above hers, and it was filled with charm. Sunshine flowed through the big bay window, flooding the room with light. Books filled every inch of available space, crowding two deep on shelves and stacked high on the floors. Mark’s art covered the walls, large canvases covered in bold strokes of color. On hot summer nights they opened the doors and sat on the fire escape sipping mojitos and pretending they were on a beach somewhere instead of trapped in an airless city, sweltering in the New York heat.
“I’m not having dinner with a stranger.” Molly returned to the subject. She slid off her shoes and curled her legs underneath her while Valentine settled himself on the rug by the sofa. “At the end of the day Daniel is a random guy I met in the park. That’s crazy, right?”
“Depends on how hot he is.” Gabe walked into the apartment carrying a crate of champagne.
Molly raised her eyebrows. “Wow. When you said ‘drop in for a drink’ soon, I didn’t realize you were taking it so seriously.”
Gabe flashed her a smile.
He was classically handsome, with sculptured cheekbones and blue eyes. Mark had told Molly once that on Gabe’s first day at the advertising agency where he worked as creative director, he’d spread the word that he was gay. Apparently that approach had saved him a whole lot of embarrassment and awkward moments in previous jobs, but it didn’t seem to have stopped the women he worked with from falling in love with him.
“Mark texted that you want to talk about a guy. Tell me all.” Gabe shrugged off his jacket. “Is he hot?”
“He’s hot. I mean, if you think looks are important.”
“Charming? Charismatic?”
Molly thought of the conversations they’d had. “I guess. He’s comfortable with himself. That’s always attractive.” Oh, who was she kidding? He was more than attractive. And that was what scared her.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
“I don’t want a relationship.”
“How about fun?” Gabe cut a thin slice off a slab of Parmesan cheese and ate it. “Don’t you want some of that?”
“I don’t find relationships fun when they’re mine.”
“You know more about relationships than anyone I’ve met. You have a sixth sense when it comes to people. I don’t understand why you can’t apply that common sense and experience to your own relationships.”
“I don’t understand it either.” Except that she did. Molly stroked Valentine’s head. It was one thing holding back when you were talking to a stranger in the park, quite another to keep secrets from dear friends who kept none from you. “Okay, I’m lying. I do understand it. But understanding something doesn’t mean you can fix it. Which is annoying, because as a psychologist I should know how to put my baggage in long-term storage.”
“Baggage is baggage, sweetheart. You can try dumping it in the lost and found for a while, but somehow it always finds its way back.” Gabe removed a bottle of champagne from the box and put it in the fridge.
Mark raised his eyebrows. “Are we celebrating something I should know about?”
“We’re pitching for a champagne account. It’s going to be wall-to-wall bubbles for the next month.”
“Pitching means drinking the product?”
“Of course. I can’t pitch for something that isn’t wholly and completely familiar to me.”
Molly grinned. “We should all be grateful he’s not pitching for cough syrup.”
“I pick my accounts carefully.” Gabe started unbuttoning his shirt. “I need a quick shower. Talk amongst yourselves.”
He walked back into the room ten minutes later, as Mark was serving the risotto and Molly was laying the table. Valentine lay with his nose on his paws, watching her protectively.
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, that dog would make a wonderful nanny when you have kids.” Gabe was wearing a clean shirt and jeans. His feet were bare. “So why are you hanging out with us and not this hot, charming guy you met in the park?”
Molly carried plates through from the kitchen. “I like hanging out with you.”
“Because we’re comfortable and safe.”
“Because you’re friends.” These days she chose her friends very, very carefully. Life had made her cautious.
Mark sat down at the table. “What does Mr. Hot Guy in the Park do? Choice of career tells you a lot about a person.”
Gabe frowned. “I disagree.”
“People choose to become doctors because they’re caring.”
“Not always. There’s also the money and the status. And the doctor in the book I’m reading right now is a serial killer. He went into medicine because he likes dead bodies.”
Molly pulled a face. “You need to change your reading.”
“I can’t. I’m addicted to Lucas Blade. Whatever he writes, I read.”
“Well, Man in the Park isn’t a doctor. He’s a lawyer.”
“So he’s smart and good with words. I’m liking him already. And how many times have you met?”
“Once or twice.” Molly felt her cheeks heat. “Maybe more.�
��
“How many times more?”
“He’s been there every morning for the past couple of weeks.”
“Whoa.” Gabe’s eyes widened. “This is a serious, long-term relationship.”
“We sat on a park bench. We were in public the whole time. Our dogs are friends.”
“So you’re chatting with him so Valentine can have some guy time?”
“That’s part of it. It’s like a doggy playdate.”
“Honey, you’re not fooling anyone. You’re interested in this guy, I can tell. So why didn’t you say yes to dinner?”
Molly squirmed. “Because he’s too—” She bit her lip and Gabe raised an eyebrow.
“Too?”
“I don’t know. He’s too—everything. Too good-looking, too charming.”
“No man can be ‘too’ anything for you.” Gabe sat back in his chair. “You, Molly Parker, deserve the very best of everything. Including champagne. Speaking of which…” He stood up, retrieved the bottle from the fridge and eased the cork out with a satisfying pop.
“You’re biased.” Molly watched as he poured the sparkling liquid into three glasses.
“Why would you think you’re worth less than the best? Because some jerk with a big ego made you feel the size of a grain of rice a thousand years ago?”
“Three years ago. That’s not so far away.” She’d told them part of the story. Not all of it of course. No one knew all of it. But a large part of it had tumbled out one night when they’d shared Mark’s spaghetti Bolognese and a bottle of wine. That same night Gabe had told her that his father hadn’t spoken to him since he’d come out in his last year of high school and Mark confessed he had a closet full of pink shirts because his mother thought that was what gay men wore.
Families, she thought. The most complex relationship of them all.
“Honestly? I’m not great with his type.”
“Hot, sexy and charming? Yeah, that’s a killer combination. I can see why you’d struggle.”
“Very confident men make me wary.”
“Because they’re more likely to trample all over those defenses you’ve built? Honey, confidence is sexy.”
“Confidence can be intimidating. And then there’s the fact that he’s a divorce attorney. I’m a supporter of relationships.”