Once inside, Jessica felt a little better, like she’d been underwater and had finally broken the surface. She inhaled deeply as Sydney and Connor caught up with her.
“The cats are here,” she said as she finally slowed her pace and allowed herself to relax a bit. She strolled in the direction of the cat enclosures housed directly across from the front desk. “This is affectionately dubbed the Cat Wall. We can house about fifty at one time and we can squeeze in a few more if need be.” She gestured at the wall of glass cubicles like she was Vanna White. It was a wall like a tic-tac-toe board of windows. Each one held a cat. Some held more than one. Today was a good day; Jessica counted nine that were empty.
“Hi there. Am I too late for the tour?”
The voice pulled Jessica back from her counting of the cat cubbies and she met the twinkling brown eyes of Anna St. John. Here we go, Jessica thought as she pasted on a smile. “Afraid so.” Resigned to playing the game Anna had forced her into, she turned toward her guests. “Anna St. John is our public relations director. Anna, this is Sydney Taylor and Connor Baskin of Channel Six. They’ll be working on the telethon in a few weeks.”
Anna shook Connor’s hand first, then held on to Sydney’s. “Well, hello there. Good to see you again.”
Jessica watched the different emotions play out on Sydney’s face. Confusion was first, like she couldn’t place Anna. Then a glimmer of recognition. Then her eyes widened for such a short flash that Jessica would never have noticed if she hadn’t been specifically looking. Then Sydney’s cheeks reddened just a touch, she gave a nod and muttered, “Likewise,” and looked like she actually pulled her hand from Anna’s. Jessica had a very short zap of sympathy for her, but that went away pretty quickly.
Heels at an animal shelter and hooking up with Anna: two reasons to question Ms. Sydney Taylor’s judgment. Already.
Two reasons were all she needed. Two reasons were more than enough.
“So,” Jessica said, clapping her hands together once, which caused Sydney to flinch. “Is there anything else you need from me?” She was all business again, that silliness from the horse barn driven right out of her brain by the subtly lascivious expression on Anna’s face.
Sydney cleared her throat. “Um. No. No, I think we’re good. Connor?” She looked to her producer for obvious help and he stepped right up.
“That should do it for now,” he said with a smile. “I’ve taken a lot of notes. I’ve got some terrific ideas. Let us go back to the station and bat some things around and we’ll get back to you, okay?”
Jessica nodded once and took Connor’s outstretched hand, shook it. “Excellent. I’ll wait to hear from you. And we’ll meet with Anna as well next time.” When she grasped Sydney’s hand, the flash of being back at the barn, stroking Jock’s soft head in tandem, hit her so hard she felt light-headed, and she let go as if Sydney had burned her.
Sydney didn’t seem to notice, and Jessica assumed maybe she was too busy mentally kicking herself for her tryst with Anna. Her discomfort was obvious.
“Thanks for the tour,” Connor said, then looked to his talent. “Ready?”
Sydney nodded, met Jessica’s eyes one more time, then turned to follow Connor out the door.
Jessica and Anna stood side by side and watched as they left.
“Damn. She’s even sexier in the daylight,” Anna said, then bumped Jessica with her hip like they were old school pals who shared a secret.
Jessica simply shook her head and walked away.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Well, I can hear your voice, which means you’re alive, which means you’ve definitely survived your whole first week in the new job. Yes?”
Sydney couldn’t help but grin. “Yes. I survived.”
“You sound less than thrilled, but I am ignoring that, because surviving is infinitely better than not surviving. I, for one, am glad you survived. I’d miss you if you hadn’t.” Her voice was full of its usual cheer and positive energy, and Sydney could hear the sounds of the kitchen in the background: dishes, pots, things clanging.
“Am I on speaker? What are you making?”
“You are on speaker, hot stuff, as I am trying a new recipe to see if my class can handle it.” Not a lot of schools continued to offer the home ec courses that Laura taught, but the one in Pennsylvania where she worked did. She taught several different ages and the students loved her. She actually had a waiting list for her classes.
“Brownies? Cookies?”
“Cupcakes,” Laura answered.
“Chocolate? Please say yes.”
“Yes. I wanted to try something more creative in my dessert chapter, but we’ll start simple.”
“There is no need for any other flavor of cupcake,” Sydney said. “Chocolate is life. Also, I want one of them. Right now.”
“But what of your girlish television news figure? You can’t be eating cupcakes.”
Sydney sighed and glanced at the salad she’d grabbed on her way home. “I know. You’re right. Damn it.”
“So tell me about your week again.” Laura was good at that, at cutting to the chase, and Sydney was again reminded of how straightforward she always was with her. She was also the first person Sydney had come out to, in their dorm room one night, after Sydney had struggled, denied, and bargained with herself for almost two years before finally accepting her homosexuality. Laura was her conscience, her voice of reason.
“It’s been…interesting.”
“Well, that’s cryptic. Elaborate, please.” The sound of an egg cracking came over the speaker.
Sydney gave her the rundown repeating some stuff like meeting the other staff members, getting to know the station, exploring the city a little, her assignment on the local brewery, and meeting Connor, who would be producing the telethon she was hosting.
“You like him?” Laura asked. Despite their very different careers, Laura paid close attention to the details of Sydney’s and always asked the right questions.
“I do. He seems to know his stuff. After our meeting today at the animal shelter, he had some great ideas for interviews and extra stuff, new features to jazz things up, bring it into the social media age instead of letting it stay stuck in the past, you know? We’ll run things by the head of the shelter next week.”
“Is it a nice place?” Laura was stirring or mixing something now. Sydney could hear the spoon against the metal bowl.
“It’s actually really nice. Big. They’ve got livestock, which surprised me. And goats. Not just the typical cats and dogs that most shelters have.”
“Really? That’s cool. How’s the staff there? Lots of volunteers?”
“Yeah, quite a few. And some paid staff, but not many, I don’t think. Oh!” Sydney gave up on her salad, pushed it across the coffee table and turned sideways on her couch, propping her feet on a throw pillow. “You’re not going to believe this. Remember when I visited here back in March? To explore and find an apartment?”
“I do.”
“Remember that I found a gay bar and went out one night?”
“Mm hmm. I also remember you hooked up with some girl there.”
“Hey, I didn’t hook up with her. We made out. That was all.”
“Semantics,” Laura said, with a scoff.
“Yeah, well, that girl? She works at the shelter.”
“Oh, no.”
“Yeah. I met her today and it was so weird.”
“I told you to be careful about hooking up with random strangers.” Laura had adopted her schoolteacher voice, which Sydney found both endearing and annoying. “Serves you right.”
“You make me sound like a slut,” Sydney said, using a laugh to try to cover the fact that she was a little stung. “I don’t hook up with random strangers.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Are you done scolding me, Ms. DiSalvo?”
“Maybe.” There was a beat and Sydney used it to let the hurt roll off. “How weird was it?”
Sydney blew
out a breath. “Just…awkward. I don’t think Jessica—she’s the CEO and was giving me the tour before she introduced us to Anna, the girl from the bar—knew that we’d already met. But…” She flashed back to Anna’s smug smile, her extra-long handshake, her a little-too-firm grip. “I don’t know. She’s…I don’t know.”
“She won’t make trouble for you, will she?” Laura asked, the scolding tone replaced with concern.
Sydney shrugged, even though Laura couldn’t see her. “I have no idea. I’m not really sure she could. I mean, I don’t broadcast my sexuality, but I don’t hide it. My boss knows I’m gay. Come on, it’s 2016. There are many more exciting things in the world to make a big deal out of besides who I sleep with. And I didn’t sleep with Anna, so…”
“Yeah, well, still. I’d watch my step around her.”
“It’s funny, when we were making out that night in the back hall of the bar, there was just…something about her that suddenly turned me off. I mean, she was cute and into me and it was fun, but there came a point where…I don’t even know how to describe it.” Sydney had spent many hours later that week trying to put a finger on exactly what it was about Anna that had precipitously given her pause. She remembered kissing her—that it was nice—but after a few minutes, she was weirdly overcome by a feeling of…warning. She’d pulled away and made a lame excuse about needing to get up early the next morning. Then she’d picked up her jacket and bag, went back to her hotel, and didn’t return to the bar for the remainder of her trip. “It was like a red flag went up and I just…stepped away.”
“Instinct is a good thing. Imagine if you’d actually slept with her and then met her today.”
Sydney grimaced. “Yeah, that would have been all kinds of worse.”
“The Universe was looking out for you.”
“Apparently.”
“I’m kind of shocked you paid attention.”
“Hey!” Sydney said with great mock indignation, then laughed. “I pay attention.”
“Rarely.”
“That’s why I have you. So you can make me pay attention.”
“If only you’d listen to me when I talk.”
They laughed together, and for the first time since shaking hands with Anna, Sydney felt a little bit better. That night had been really poor judgment on Sydney’s part and she knew it. She had also felt a little bad about the way she’d run off from Anna that night in the bar, but after today, she knew she’d done the right thing. She hoped not to get tangled up with Anna in any way, shape, or form during the telethon, but knew that Anna, as the head of public relations, was bound to be front and center. Sydney wondered if she needed to address things with Anna or if Anna would be good with the let’s-never-mention-it-again form of closure. I guess we’ll find out.
“Tell me about the city. What do you think? I know you’re less than thrilled to be there.”
Sydney hadn’t actually said that to Laura, so it was yet another testament to how well her ex-roommate knew her. Sydney sighed, ran her fingers through her hair as she gazed toward the window of her small living room. “It’s fine. I did a little exploring last weekend, but haven’t had a lot of time since. I know I’m pretty close to the Shopwalk District, which is a nice, walkable part of town that has a lot of restaurants and shops and stuff, so I think I’ll take a stroll tomorrow and check it out.”
“Make any new friends?” The sound of a spoon against a metal bowl told Sydney Laura was at the scoop-the-batter-into-the-cupcake-tins part of her project.
“Does the old lady in my building count?”
“Absolutely.”
“Does helping her get her groceries up the stairs count as friendship?”
“Totally.”
“Oh, good. Then yes.” She told Laura the story of Dr. Vivian Green, how they’d met, where she lived.
“Aww, cute,” Laura said. “What’s she a doctor of?”
“I didn’t have a chance to ask. I was on my way to work.”
“Well, you’ve done your good deed for the week, but your next assignment is to make some friends closer to your own age. I know you don’t plan on staying there, but you are going to be there for a little while.”
“I know.” Sydney sighed.
The sound of the oven opening and closing came over the phone before Laura continued. “You’re not an island, Syd. You’ll get lonely. I mean, I know nobody there will compare to me, but still…”
Sydney chuckled. “I know,” she said again. “You’re right.”
“Promise me you’ll put yourself out there.” When Sydney didn’t respond right away, Laura’s voice got stern. “Promise me.”
“Fine. I promise.”
“Good. Thank you.”
They talked for a while longer, Laura talking about her students, which were her favorites, which drove her to drink at the end of the day. When they’d said their goodbyes, Sydney set her phone on the coffee table and twisted on the couch so she could see her fish swimming around in their tiny world.
“You guys. Laura says I have to find friends. What do you think?”
Marge swam up to the glass, opened and closed her little O-shaped mouth, and stared at Sydney for a moment before she turned away.
“Great. Thanks for the advice.” She righted herself so she was on her back, looking up at the ceiling of her apartment and wondering why she hadn’t mentioned the horse-petting incident to Laura. She’d certainly have had some guidance, an opinion, something to make Sydney feel better about it. She was pretty sure she wanted to just blow it off, and Laura would have inevitably helped her to do that. But…
“Hmm,” she said to the empty room.
Maybe she wanted to hold onto it a little longer, let it be just hers before she pulled it out, shared it, and tossed it away like a paper towel. Jessica Barstow was tough. That was obvious. She couldn’t have gotten where she had without being so. She was no-nonsense. And she’d made it fairly clear she wasn’t thrilled with Sydney’s presence around the telethon. Whether it was because she was new, or because she was younger than the previous host, or because she wasn’t a local, or a combination of all three things, Sydney wasn’t sure. But the horse-petting moment, that had felt almost…intimate. Jessica’s voice had been low and gentle and dangerously close to her ear, her hand was soft and strong, but so feminine. Sydney remembered now simply staring at it, at the neatly filed nails devoid of polish, the obvious strength coupled with the actual softness, blue veins trailing lightly under pale skin. Then there was the body heat. Jessica had stood so close, right up behind her. Talk about intimate! Sydney could still feel Jessica’s breasts pressed into her back, could still feel the tickle of Jessica’s breath on her neck as she spoke in an almost-whisper to the horse.
The chill that ran up her spine—the good kind of chill—caused goose bumps to break out on her bare arms and visions to show up in her brain that she just did not want to deal with. Jessica Barstow was pretty, yes. That was a fact.
“Okay, she’s sexy as well. I can admit that.” Sydney spoke out loud again. “But so what? Lots of women are pretty. Lots of them are sexy. Means nothing. And”—she grabbed the remote from the coffee table and pointed it at her TV, which was newly hooked up to the cable—“I’m not going to think about it anymore. I’m a professional, damn it.”
Literally shaking her head, she flipped through channels quickly, forcing herself to focus on her choice of shows rather than the very attractive, rather brusque, super sexy head of the animal shelter she was hosting a telethon for.
The one with the warm, soft hands and husky whisper of a voice…
*
Jessica glanced at the clock and instantly understood why her eyelids felt like there was sandpaper on the insides. 9:47 p.m. on a Saturday. She’d been at the shelter since six that morning, and in her office doing paperwork since about seven that night. Her stomach chose that moment for a well-placed growl to remind her she hadn’t eaten since lunch.
She dropped her pen on
to the desk and reached her arms over her head, stretching her spine as she raised one arm and shoulder up, then the other, hearing a couple of alarming pops as her vertebrae protested being in the same position for so long. With a sigh, she powered down her laptop, stacked some papers into a neat pile, slipped the computer into a bag, and headed out of her office.
Some people might think of Junebug Farms as creepy at night, like an empty and dark high school, but Jessica loved it. This was her favorite time. Even Bill Tracey had gone home; she knew because only the nighttime lights were left on. He shut off the rest when he left for the night, and now there was a gentle glow from dim lights around the gift shop, behind the front desk, and along the baseboards. It wasn’t silent—it was never silent. There was always at least a small amount of sound coming from the dog wing. Occasional barks. Some soft whining or even a mournful howl. They never all slept at once. It wasn’t unlike Jessica to go into the dog wing late at night and sit with a dog that was having a hard time. Lisa had discovered her more than once in the morning, sleeping on the floor of a kennel, spooning or holding an upset dog, both of them fast asleep. This place was in her blood, but it was also in her soul. A scared, trembling dog could break her heart just as easily now as it could the very first year she’d worked here as a regular when she’d been sixteen and her grandmother was just beginning to make a name for the place. If she could make its stay any easier by cuddling, petting, cooing to an animal, she’d happily spend hours doing just that. She needed them to know they were safe, especially those that came from abuse or neglect situations. Those poor animals carried so much baggage and Jessica, like her grandmother before her, did everything she could to make them understand that it was okay, that they were going to be safe and warm for the rest of their lives.
The dog wing was fairly quiet, and Jessica was slightly ashamed of her relief. She was tired and hungry and just wanted to go home, so she stealthily set the alarm and headed out to her car.
Don’t get so caught up by things here on earth that you forget to look up once in a while.
Dare to Stay (Puppy Love Romances Book 3) Page 5