by Jane Graves
“Yes, sir,” she said. “I did.”
“I spoke with him this morning. I must say he had some rather interesting things to say about your suitability as an employee. He told me—”
“You don’t have to say it, Mr. Breckenridge,” Kay said, feeling the reference she’d hoped for fly right out the window. “I know exactly how he feels about me.”
“Then I’d like to hear what you have to say about him.”
Had she heard him right? No one had ever talked to Robert and then wanted to hear her opinion on the matter. But here was Mr. Breckenridge, settling back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him, waiting for her reply.
A wave of hopelessness overtook her. What was the point of trying to defend herself? Kay knew whatever she said, she couldn’t possibly counter whatever rotten things Robert had already told Breckenridge about her. Robert had finally succeeded in forcing her to rock-bottom with nowhere else to go.
Then all at once her hopelessness was swept away by a wave of anger. If she let Robert continue to get away with this, she’d never work another day as long as she lived.
“Of course, Mr. Breckenridge. I’d be happy to tell you exactly what I think of Mr. Hollinger.” She squared her shoulders, then met her boss’s gaze head-on.
“Robert Hollinger is a manipulative, spiteful, self-centered man who lies as easily as he ties his shoes. Professionally, he’s after the bottom line and doesn’t give a damn whether justice is served or not. The longer I knew him, the more I realized there wasn’t a kind, respectful, or considerate bone in his body. All in all, I’d say he’s pretty rotten excuse for a human being.”
Kay folded her arms across her chest, still fixing her gaze squarely at Mr. Breckenridge. He raised his bushy eyebrows with a hint of surprise.
“Well. I see.” He took off his glasses and laid them on the desk in front of him. “I appreciate your clarifying that for me. I don’t know him well, but Mr. Hollinger’s firm is a member of the Dorland Group, so I’ve worked with him on various projects through the years. I’ve always had an odd feeling about him, though. A sense that he was, shall we say...disingenuous? And when I spoke to him today, those feelings only grew stronger.”
Kay stared at her boss with total disbelief.
“Under normal circumstances I’d be forced to take a reference at face value. But I’ve worked with you for quite some time now, Ms. Ramsey. And I must say that in that time, aside from your complete inability to make a decent pot of coffee, I haven’t noticed any of the negative aspects of your character Mr. Hollinger was so quick to point out.”
Kay sat in a daze, unable to believe that a man like Mr. Breckenridge would take her word over Robert’s. She felt a flush of pleasure that tickled her all the way to her toes.
“The reason I called you in here is to tell you that my assistant, the young lady you’re filling in for, phoned yesterday to tell me she prefers full-time motherhood to working here. I was hoping you’d agree to take over her position permanently.”
Kay stared at him, dumbfounded. A full-time job? Here?
Then before she could recover from the fact that Mr. Breckenridge had offered her a job, he mentioned a salary that was several thousand more than Robert had paid her, and she nearly fainted.
“Uh...yeah,” she said, still in a daze. Then she composed herself as much as her shocked state would allow. “I mean, yes, Mr. Breckenridge. I accept your offer.”
“See Ms. Hildebrand. She’ll handle the necessary paperwork.”
Mr. Breckenridge opened a folder in front of him and began to thumb through the papers it contained. Kay supposed that meant she was dismissed.
“Mr. Breckenridge?”
He looked up.
“I know what Robert must have said about me, and...” She paused, at a loss for words. “Thank you.”
He looked back down at the folder on his desk. “There’s no need to thank me. Hiring you is merely a good business decision.”
Kay smiled at the compliment, feeling an overwhelming urge to kiss Mr. Breckenridge smack-dab on top of his bald little head. Instead she left his office with the decorum befitting the assistant to one of the most prominent attorneys in the city.
She went back out to her desk and sat down, still in shock. And that’s when she had a stunning revelation. She actually liked being a legal assistant. She liked the professional atmosphere, the respect she got from her co-workers, and the challenge that accompanied every task she took on. She was good at it.
And to her complete delight, Mr. Breckenridge thought so, too.
When five o’clock rolled around and she was getting ready to leave for the day, she looked up to see Jason leaning against the doorway, a knowing smile on his face.
“I assume you took the job.”
Kay frowned. Apparently Mr. Breckenridge’s intent to offer her a job was a secret only to her. “Yes. I did.”
Jason eased toward her desk, wearing that look she’d grown so accustomed to in the past few weeks, as if he was going hunting and she was the prey. “I think this calls for a celebration, don’t you? I have a Jacquesson 1990 Blanc I’ve been wanting to try. Join me at my apartment at, say, seven o’clock?”
Kay assumed all those French words added up to a bottle of champagne, while all the rest of his words added up to a not-so-subtle proposition. And she didn’t want to deal with any of it.
She wanted to go home. She wanted to tell Matt about her new job. He’d give her a big hug, then toast her with a can of soda, telling her all the while how fortunate Mr. Breckenridge was that she’d accepted his job offer. Then maybe they’d rent a movie and spend the rest of the evening on the sofa together.
Three feet apart.
Matt’s gaze would be glued to the TV and her gaze glued to him. They’d snack a little, talk a little, laugh a little. And then...
And then nothing.
Kay almost cried at the hopelessness of it. Every imaginable door had opened between them, and Matt had refused to walk through any of them. He was sweet and sexy and one of the best friends she’d ever had. But they weren’t lovers, and the way things looked, they never would be. She didn’t know why Matt felt the way he did, but she did know one thing: it was time she stopped demeaning herself by desperately wanting a man who was never going to want her.
She sighed with resignation. Right now, the prospect of spending one more night alone with Matt that led to nothing was even more painful than the prospect of spending an evening with Jason, and that was saying a lot.
“Okay, Jason,” she said. “Pick me up at seven. Dinner at Rodolpho’s. No champagne, and I don’t even want to know where you live. Deal?”
A funny mix of emotions swam around on his face: elation that she’d finally agreed to go out with him, and annoyance that she was calling the shots. He looked left and right, then gave her a crooked smile. “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”
She wrote her address on a sticky note, gave it to Jason and told him she’d see him at eight. That would give her enough time to finish her work at the shelter, then get dressed for dinner.
As he walked out of her office, she closed her eyes, feeling as if her heart had crumbled into a hundred tiny pieces. From the day she’d moved in with Matt it had been pretty clear they’d never have a future together, but this was the first time she’d actually made herself believe it.
Matt got stuck at the clinic setting a golden retriever’s broken leg, so it was nearly six-thirty before he made it over to the shelter. When he came through the front door he found the reception desk deserted. He figured Hazel was out back having a quick cigarette, and Kay was probably in the Cat Room. He stopped for a moment and looked around, and all at once it struck him how different the shelter seemed than it had only a few months ago. Evidence of Kay was everywhere.
In the corner of the reception area sat a silk ficus tree she’d brought from her storage shed, a little worse for wear from dogs nosing it and cats batting at it, but definit
ely a nice addition. She’d organized and added to the bulletin board with photos of animals going home with their new families, most notably two half-bald cats wearing Kitty-Tees. Looking at the desk, he saw that files were actually put away, a coffee mug had become a pencil cup and even the mail had its own little basket beside the telephone. And despite the mild yet distinct animal aroma in the air, if he closed his eyes he swore he could smell her perfume.
He went into the kitchen to grab a drink, and as he was closing the refrigerator door, he noticed movement out the kitchen window. Stepping closer, he couldn’t believe what he saw.
In the long shadows of late afternoon, Kay stood in the backyard holding what looked like a brand-new hot-pink Frisbee in her hand. Chester sat at her feet. Matt watched as Kay showed the Frisbee to the dog, then backed away seven or eight paces. She tossed the Frisbee gently toward him. Chester leaped up with excitement as the disc approached, but in the end all he did was watch it fall to earth.
Kay picked up the Frisbee and showed it to Chester again, then tossed it, only to slump in frustration once more as both she and the dog watched it sail to the ground.
“She’s been out there with him for the past half hour.” Matt spun around to find Hazel standing behind him. He turned back to the window and watched in astonishment as Kay scratched Chester behind his ears, patted his side, then backed off again for another try. She caught his attention with the Frisbee, then tossed it again. It seemed to hover in midair for a long time before beginning its descent, only this time Chester actually raised up on his back paws and clamped his jaws around it before it hit the ground.
Kay let out a whoop of delight Matt could hear even through the closed window. She rushed over to Chester, took the Frisbee from him and praised him madly, patting him, scratching him and ruffling his ears. Chester got all excited and slurped his tongue across Kay’s cheek, and she didn’t even bother to wipe off the dog spit. Matt could see her lips forming the words good boy, over and over, and when she smiled at that misbegotten animal it was as if the clouds had parted and sunlight was streaming down from heaven.
“I overheard her talking to him when she took him out to the backyard,” Hazel said. “She told him to pay attention, because if he could learn to play a game maybe some kid would want him.”
In that moment any lingering thoughts Matt had about Kay not relating to animals shattered into a million pieces. This wasn’t the Kay who’d come kicking and screaming into his shelter a couple of months ago. This Kay was sweet and compassionate with a heart the size of Texas, who’d grown to love an animal enough that she’d go out of her way to help him find a home. And looking at her now, he knew—she would understand. She would understand how much the shelter meant to him, because it was starting to mean something to her, too.
All at once he realized what an integral part of his life she’d become, so enmeshed in his everyday existence that he couldn’t imagine tomorrow without her. She’d chased away the loneliness he’d felt for what seemed like forever. She made him eager to come home at night. And most importantly, she’d given him something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Hope.
It was the last week of September. The air unit was still holding on. If it kept working another few weeks, he’d have until spring to find a way to replace it. With fall here, his utility bills would drop dramatically. The donations Kay had gotten had lightened his financial burden just enough that if nothing else went wrong, he just might be able to keep things running. For the first time in a long while, he was actually looking forward to tomorrow.
He might even be able to get by without the Dorland Grant.
The moment that thought leaped into his mind, he froze. Then he examined it for a moment, playing it over, looking at it from all sides. All at once it didn’t seem so incomprehensible. Why hadn’t he seen it before?
If he turned down the grant, he’d be out from under Hollinger’s thumb. He’d be free to tell Kay how he felt about her. And he’d never have to worry about Kay finding out what he’d done, because he’d never accepted that money in payment for anything. He grabbed his phone.
"I’m calling Hollinger."
Hazel made a face. "Why?"
"To tell him to forget the grant.”
“What?"
He couldn’t quite believe he’d said it, but now that the words were out of his mouth, they seemed to gain momentum. “I’m going to tell him to forget it. I never should have agreed to it in the first place. Things are better now. The donations Kay’s gotten, the weather turning cooler... it’s all going to work out. I don’t need Hollinger.”
Suddenly he felt wonderful, liberated. After he made this call, he could go to the backyard, sweep Kay into his arms, drag her back to the house and make love to her until neither one of them could stand up. He knew she wanted it as much as he did. He saw it in her eyes every day, in her smile, in the way she looked at him sometimes with such confusion, because they were so good together and she wondered why he didn’t do anything about it.
It was time he did. His only regret was that he wouldn’t see the look on Hollinger’s face when he told him to shove it.
When started to make the call, though, he felt Hazel’s hand on his shoulder. “Doc—stop.”
He turned around, and she handed him an envelope.
“What’s this?”
He looked down and saw the return address—Southern National Bank. The envelope wasn’t thick enough for a statement, and the address label was individually typed, not bulk mail. He slid the letter out and read it, and when he did, it was as if the whole world had come crashing down around him.
The bank was giving him until the end of the month to bring the mortgage on the shelter current. If he didn’t make up the back payments, they were going to foreclose.
Matt stared at the letter as if it was a death sentence. He closed his eyes, feeling that tight burning sensation in his stomach again. He’d thought he had time. He’d thought the bank would work with him a few months longer, but now—
If he didn’t take the grant the shelter would close forever.
He spun around and headed toward the front door.
“Doc? Where are you going?”
He didn’t respond. He left the shelter and got into his Jeep with Buddy and started to drive. He didn’t know where he was going, and he didn’t care. For safety’s sake, it just had to be anywhere Kay wasn’t.
For the next hour he made needless trips to needless places. He stopped by the hardware store for a washer to fix a leak in the kitchen sink, the drugstore for shampoo and aspirin, then went to the grocery store and dropped items at random into a shopping cart. He spent a much-needed five or ten minutes in the frozen food section, not putting a thing in his cart but cooling off a lot.
Then somewhere between the ice cream and the frozen vegetables, he started to look at things logically. He told himself all he had to do was go to the awards ceremony, bank the money, get the shelter back in the black and then he could hold on to Kay forever.
He felt better as he drove home. Calm. In control. As long as he didn’t think about Kay playing with Chester, about how her smile had lit up the whole neighborhood, he’d be just fine. He just might be able to keep his hands to himself until that money was safely in the bank.
When he pulled into his driveway, he was surprised to see a black Mercedes parked in front of his house. He came through the front door into the clinic waiting room, carrying his odd array of packages. He saw a man sitting in a waiting-room chair wearing a charcoal-gray suit, starched blue shirt and silk tie, reading a copy of Dog Fancy.
Matt slowly closed the door. “Can I help you?”
The guy looked up. “I’m waiting for Kay. You’re the vet, right?”
“Uh...yeah.”
The guy’s gaze circled the room, his nose crinkling as if he’d just smelled something rotten. “Interesting place you’ve got here.”
Matt didn’t respond.
The man n
odded down at the magazine. “Don’t suppose you have a Wall Street Journal?”
Matt eyed him suspiciously. “No. Afraid not.”
The man looked back down and kept reading. Confused, Matt swung through the kitchen, dropped the sacks on the kitchen table, then headed up the back stairs. As he stepped onto the second floor, Kay’s bedroom door opened. And the moment he saw her, the breath left his body.
In jeans and a T-shirt she was a knockout. In the conservative clothes she wore to work she’d stop traffic. But the shimmery black slip of a dress she wore now showed off her anatomy to its full advantage. He thought he’d mentally catalogued every curve she had, but now he was seeing a landscape of hills and valleys he’d never even known existed. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders like a golden waterfall, and her perfume filled the air between them like a soft floral cloud.
He approached her slowly, blinking in awe, hoping his eyeballs weren’t going to pop right out of his head.
“Kay?” His voice sounded funny, as if he’d swallowed something wrong. He cleared his throat. “Who’s the guy downstairs?”
“Jason Bradley.”
“Who?”
“We have a date.”
Matt felt as if she’d slapped him. A date? Kay was going on a date?
She turned her back to him. “The zipper. I can’t reach it Do you mind?”
She swept her hair aside. Matt’s gaze slid downward, from the smooth, pale skin of her neck, across her lacy scrap of a bra, to the zipper parked halfway down her back.
He took the zipper between his fingers and slowly pulled it upward, mourning the disappearance of one inch of beautiful skin after another. As the zipper reached its limit his fingers brushed against the baby-fine hair at the back of her neck. For a wild, fleeting moment he saw himself kissing her there, teasing her with his lips, then easing that zipper slowly back down again...
“Thanks.” Kay turned around, sweeping her hair over her shoulder again, shaking Matt back to reality. She disappeared into her bedroom, then reappeared with a small black handbag, tucking a tube of lipstick inside it. “Where did you meet this guy?” Matt asked.