The Puppy Problem

by Katie Meyer

  “So go after him,” Jillian admonished, shooing her away. “We’re all done with these.”

  Megan didn’t need to be told twice. Waving a quick thank-you, she made her way through the now crowded room as fast as her borrowed heels would let her.

  * * *

  Luke had one goal in mind when he stepped into the gym. Damage control. Once Liz realized her plan hadn’t worked, she was going to explode, and he needed to be sure Megan didn’t get caught in the blast. Luckily, she was easy to spot, having strategically positioned herself to keep an eye on the action. At least she had the sense to look away when she saw him head her way. After all, even snakes had an instinct for self-preservation.

  “We need to talk,” he stormed, struggling to keep his voice low. Causing a scene would only feed her ego.

  “Oh, did you want to say goodbye? I heard that you might be leaving.”

  “You heard wrong,” he stated flatly, refusing to be baited. “But I’m happy to explain the misunderstanding—outside.” Without waiting for her reaction, he strode for the door. The sound of her shoes on the pavement outside told him she’d followed. He’d known she would, if only because she didn’t want him to have the last word.

  “So did Rob wuss out? Or are you just hoping to get me to change my mind?” She tipped her head, looking him up and down. “You do look awfully good in that monkey suit you’ve got on...maybe we should find somewhere private and you could try to persuade me.”

  His stomach roiled at her insinuation. No doubt some men would be more than happy to take her up on the offer, but a tight dress and red lips weren’t enough to make up for ugly behavior. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Not now, not ever.”

  Liz’s perfectly plucked eyebrows narrowed, and he had the random thought that the Botox must be wearing off. “Pretty big talk from a guy about to lose his job.”

  “Maybe,” he acknowledged with a shrug. “But right now, I’m still in charge of this school. And I’m not going to have you stirring up drama that hurts the school just because I hurt your feelings.” He took deep breath and tried to sound as sincere as possible. “So let me say that I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t mean to.”

  Liz’s slow clap echoed in the night air. “Very impressive, Luke. I almost believe you.”

  “Believe what you want. I’m just trying to do the right thing here.”

  “This from a guy giving special favors to a student just so he can get a woman in his bed? Spare me the sermon.”

  Luke shook his head, knowing that was exactly how she’d spin it. “That isn’t what happened.”

  “Really? Because from where I stand, not only did you let that troublemaker stay, now he gets to bring his mutt with him.” Her lips twisted into a cruel smirk. “And maybe that’s not the only perk. For all I know, Megan could be working off that tuition bill the old-fashioned way.”

  If looks could kill, he’d have murdered her on the spot. Rage and helplessness churned in his gut. For a split second, he thought he might actually throw up. Never had he felt so frustrated. Or so helpless. And not just because of the very real threat this woman posed to his career. What had his insides revolting was the idea of her jealousy and hatred hurting Megan—or even worse, Owen.

  Luke could try to find another job, although it might be hard if the accusations were put in writing. But if Owen got kicked out of school, then what? Would he have to go to a school on the mainland, one that likely wouldn’t allow him to bring a service dog? Would Megan have to move if the commute got to be too much, adding one more disruption into the little boy’s life? All because he’d turned this woman down for a date? If it was the plot of a sitcom, he would have said it was too farfetched to be real. And yet he was living it. And the consequences were much too real.

  “Hate me if you want. But don’t go slandering innocent people,” he warned. “There are legal implications to this that go beyond my job, or your love life. I get that you are angry. Fine, be angry at me. Slash my tires or put poop on my doorstep or something. But if you hurt this school or anyone involved, I’ll make sure every possible action is taken to stop you.”

  “Is that a threat?” She was trying to look tough, but her posture wasn’t quite as confident as it had been a minute before. Good.

  “Why don’t you ask your lawyer? ’Cause, honey, you keep this up, and you’re going to need a good one.”

  “You know what, I don’t have to put up with this kind of treatment. Enjoy your stupid banquet—I’ve got better places to be.”

  He half expected her to say something else, to dig herself deeper and just to drag him down with her. But she just muttered something unladylike about what he could do with his precious school, and flounced off toward the parking lot. A full retreat, although he knew she’d never admit as much.

  “You know she’s not done, right?”

  The question came from behind him, and he knew the voice even before he turned to see Megan standing just outside the heavy double doors. With her face in the shadows, he couldn’t read her expression.

  How long had she been standing there, listening to Liz spew her venom?

  He started toward her, stopping short when she took a step back. “How much of that did you hear?”

  She shrugged. “Enough to know this isn’t going to work.”

  “What do you mean?” His pulse pounded in his ears, maybe his body’s attempt to drown out her answer. “She left. She knows she can’t prove anything.”

  “She doesn’t have to prove it to cause trouble. All she has to do is get enough people talking. Some of them will have sympathy for her—or at least pretend to if they think it might get them somewhere.”

  Luke wanted to tell Megan how wrong she was, that the world didn’t work that way. But he couldn’t. A rumored scandal didn’t need to be true to be believed. Still, that didn’t mean they should just give up. “My friend Grant is a lawyer. He can help, maybe write some kind of cease and desist letter or something. Stop her in her tracks. We can fight this, Megan.”

  The harsh glow of the security lights glinted off the tear tracks on her cheeks, the only giveaway that she was crying. Her voice held steady, unlike his, and he had to wonder how, when he was ready to crumple to the ground. “Don’t you get it? It’s too late. She’s already won.”

  “You can’t mean that.”

  “I have to. You heard her, she’s out for revenge, and she doesn’t care who she hurts in the process.”

  He could sense her resignation, but he couldn’t—wouldn’t—accept it. “Megan, I’m in love with you.”

  Her bitter laugh was somehow even sadder than her tears. “You know how they say ‘all’s fair in love and war’?”

  He nodded, unable to speak past the knot of pain blocking his throat.

  “Well, I lost my husband in a war. And I’m not going to let my son be collateral damage just because we fell in love. So, fair or not, this thing between us is over.” She shrugged, as if this was all no big deal and she hadn’t just torn his still beating heart from his chest. “It has to be.”

  “At least let me drive you home.” Maybe once they were away from here, and she’d had some time to calm down, she’d feel differently.

  “Are you kidding me? What do you think people will say if you vanish in the middle of the fundraiser, and it comes out that you left with me? Liz wouldn’t even have to say a word, the scandal will write itself.”

  “Then how will you get home?”

  “Don’t worry. That’s why God made taxis. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I’m used to it.”

  Luke watched as Megan marched off. He knew he should have called the cab himself, but he suspected Megan wouldn’t accept any semblance of help from him. As she disappeared around the corner of the building, her phone to her ear, he tried to pull his chaotic thoughts and emotions under control. Every fiber in
his body was screaming at him to run after her.

  But Megan didn’t want that. And after everything, he owed it to her to respect her wishes.

  So he turned, put one foot in front of the other, and walked back into the building, away from the only woman he’d ever loved.

  * * *

  Megan decided not to call a cab, after all—too much money, and it wouldn’t be that far a walk. But the borrowed shoes didn’t make it past the first half mile of the trek home. Kicking them off, she stretched her cramped toes on the chilly sidewalk and wished she’d had the forethought to bring a jacket.

  Of course, she hadn’t thought she’d be outside longer than it took to walk from Luke’s heated car to the gym, and given Florida’s mild winters and her own lackluster social life, she’d never bothered to invest in the kind of outerwear suitable for a formal event. And given how well tonight had gone, she wasn’t planning to do so in the future. Rubbing at the goose bumps studding her arms she picked up her pace. The faster she walked, the warmer she’d be, and the sooner she could curl up in bed and cry.

  She’d made it another quarter mile or so when one of the cars cruising by slowed and pulled up alongside her. Instinctively, she gripped her purse tighter. Paradise wasn’t known for random crime, but occasionally the tourists got a bit rowdy. With the local colleges out for the holidays, there were a few more of those than usual. A glance up and down the street showed nothing but dark storefronts. She’d have to call 9-1-1 if she needed help.

  The sound of the car door opening prompted her to action, her fingers fumbling over the pass code in her haste. She’d just found the bypass when a feminine voice called out.

  “Megan! It’s me.”

  The voice was familiar, but not enough to identify who “me” was. Her thumb hovering over the call button, Megan slowly turned, shielding her eyes from the glare of the idling car’s headlights. “Kirstin? What are you doing here?”

  “Rescuing you?” She looked up and down the empty street. “That sounds a bit dramatic, when I say it aloud. But it is cold out, and I thought you might want a ride.”

  “But...you don’t even know me. Why would you—”

  “Grab any excuse to ditch the world’s most boring gala?” Her laugh rang out over the deserted street. “I only go to that thing because, as an employee, it’s expected. I hate that kind of thing.” She leaned across the hood, a conspiratorial grin making her look more like a rambunctious teen than the model Megan had likened her to earlier. “Really, I could say you are rescuing me. I said a friend had an emergency, and bounced. As long as you get in the car, it’s the truth.”

  A friend? They had just met. Still, Kirstin had gone to all the trouble of finding her. It would be rude to turn her down; besides, her toes were going numb.

  “Well, I wouldn’t want to make a liar out of you,” Megan said, forcing her face into what she hoped was a smile. Surely, she could keep up some semblance of normalcy for a few minutes, and then she’d be free to fall apart in the privacy of her own room.

  Kirstin’s car, an older model compact hatchback that had definitely seen better days, was blessedly warm. “Thank you,” Megan sighed, holding her fingers up to the vent. “I didn’t realize how cold it was.”

  “Yeah, this front sure blew in quickly. I heard it might drop down near freezing in the morning. Of course,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “I didn’t bother to check the forecast until after I’d already left the house in this.” She pulled at the wispy material of her little black dress. “So you aren’t the only one that got fooled by Mother Nature.”

  “No, but you weren’t trying to walk across town barefoot.”

  “Well, I don’t think that was your original plan for the evening, either.”

  “No, I guess not.” She’d expected to be with Luke all night. A lump formed in Megan’s throat. Darn it, she was not going to cry. Not yet. Still, her eyes filled and one traitorous tear spilled over. Furiously she wiped at it, but another one followed right behind. When had she become a crier?

  Kirstin dug one hand into the jumble of sunglasses and receipts in the center console. Pulling out a travel-size package of tissues, she handed it over silently.

  Grateful for the lack of commentary, as well as the ability to wipe away her smeared mascara, Megan managed to say “Thank you” around the catch in her throat.

  “No need. Like I said, just helping out a friend.”

  There it was again. “You keep saying that. Why?” Maybe she just wanted to focus on something other than Luke, but the casual use of the term didn’t fit with Megan’s understanding of the word.

  “Why am I saying what?” Kirstin brow furrowed. “Wait, that didn’t make sense. I mean... Actually, I don’t know what I mean. What did you mean?”

  Megan laughed, even as a few more tears fell. “You called me your friend. Twice. But we just met, like an hour ago. You don’t know anything about me.”

  “Oh.” Kirstin nodded slowly, as if processing. “I see what you mean. I guess it is a little weird, when you put it that way.”

  “A little.”

  “Sorry.” She shrugged self-consciously. “I guess potential friend is more accurate, but that’s a mouthful, and makes it sound like a job interview or something. Or a blind date.” Her nose wrinkled. “But I know plenty about you. I know that you care about your son, enough to fight for him to get the services he needs. And you’ve done a great job with him. He’s an amazing kid.”

  “Wait, how do you know Owen? Do you have a kid in his class?”

  “No, I don’t have kids.” There was a sadness in her voice that had Megan regretting the question. “I’m the school’s reading specialist. Dr. Wright finally got the board to approve the budget to hire one, and he had me perform an initial evaluation with every student when I started.”

  “Oh.” Thinking back, she had said something about being an employee, but Megan had been too caught up in her own drama to pay attention.

  “And I know you’ve got great taste in clothes,” Kirstin continued easily. “That dress is a killer. And you jumped in to help with the centerpieces without anyone asking, and were fun to talk to while you did it. But—” she quirked an eyebrow dramatically “—there is one thing I don’t know about you. Something pretty important.”

  “What’s that?” Megan asked warily, mentally bracing herself for whatever personal question Kirstin was waiting to lob at her.

  “Your address. Unless you want me to just keep driving in circles?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kirstin’s comment about going in circles stayed in Megan’s head over the weeks that followed. Her friend—and she had truly become one—had been speaking literally, but it also served as a reminder of what could happen if she let the breakup with Luke be her excuse for falling back into old patterns. Retreating to the way things were before, when her world had been small enough to shelter only her, Owen, and Lily, would be easy. She’d been lonely, but she’d also been safe. Now, in less than a month, she’d had her heart hammered twice.

  Finding out she still wasn’t top priority with her parents had been upsetting, but breaking up with Luke had nearly brought her to her knees. Hence the temptation to just stop putting herself out there. To stop putting herself in a position to be hurt. It was what she’d done after Tim had died.

  But what kind of example would that be for Owen? He’d worked so hard to improve his social skills and make friends. If she wanted him to continue, she had to walk the talk. Besides, she doubted Cassie and Kirstin would have let her wallow at home like a hermit anyway.

  That night of the banquet, Kirstin hadn’t just driven her home, she’d stayed and offered a supportive shoulder to cry on, literally and figuratively. Since then she’d been a regular visitor, often showing up with ice cream or a rented movie, as if knowing the nights were the hardest. She also brought books, lots of them, i
nsisting that the best escape was a good novel. As it turned out, she was right. Megan hadn’t ever been much of a bookworm but she’d been flying through the paperbacks Kirstin supplied, forgetting her own pain as she immersed herself in the drama contained within their pages.

  Eyeing the stack Kirstin was carrying in now, she whistled appreciatively. “I don’t know if you are helping or enabling me. I was up way too late last night finishing that one about the ex marine.”

  “If book hangovers are wrong, I don’t want to be right.” Walking to the kitchen without being asked, Kirstin set the new stash on the table, sorting through and grabbing out one in the middle. “And here, this is the sequel. It’s about his brother.”

  “The fireman?”

  “That’s him. He gets framed for arson and has to clear his name.”

  “Oh man. I’m never going to catch up on my sleep now!”

  “Well, if you don’t want it...” Kirstin moved as if to put the book in the oversize tote she always carried.

  “Gimme!” Snatching the book, Megan glanced appreciatively at the shirtless hunk on the cover before opening it up, looking for the excerpt at the front of the book. Flipping through the pages, she did a double-take, her fingers, pausing at the copyright page.

  “That’s weird.”

  “A fireman framed for arson?” Kirstin asked, her head buried in the fridge. “I don’t know, I mean, arsonists like fires, firemen spend a lot of time around fires...it could happen.”

  “No, I mean the publication date.”

  “Who cares about when it was published, a good story is timeless, right?” Kirstin’s glib comment rang false. When she returned to the table with a pitcher of tea, her face was pink.

  “Where did you get this? Wait, do you know the author?” If so, maybe Kirstin could get a signed copy.

  “Um, you could say that.” Cheeks flaming, she lifted her thick blond hair off her neck before letting it fall back down. “Say, is it hot in here?”