“Good to see you, Reed,” Jack said. “And Carrie, thanks for helping me put this group together. I take it that Neal will be joining us?”
“Yes, and Janelle, too.”
We sat in the seats Jack indicated. Our dogs took their places on the ground beside us. Billi sat beside Jack, and I sat next to her with Reed on my other side. The opposite side of the table remained empty for now, but two of the chairs would eventually be occupied by my brother and his girlfriend.
That still left one seat. Would someone else be joining us?
I didn’t ask, since I knew I’d find out one way or another as the evening progressed.
A server soon came over to take our drink orders. It was Gwen Orway, whom Neal had romantically pursued before he met Janelle a few months ago. I’d gotten the impression that Neal had genuinely cared for Gwen, but that she wasn’t as interested in him. She had, after all, told Neal she had a boyfriend, one who didn’t live in Knobcone Heights.
She greeted us all warmly. I wondered briefly if she was still dating the guy down the mountains.
All the drama in relationships. I’d had some of my own in the past, too, and a failed relationship had been part of the impetus that sent me to Knobcone Heights once I’d qualified as a veterinary technician. I was glad about it all now, but, despite my growing feelings for Reed, I still felt hesitant about getting too deeply involved in a relationship, after my own experience and seeing those of others.
If I decided to open up, though, I could do a lot worse than Reed.
“Hi, Gwen,” I said after she had taken the others’ orders. “I’d like a glass of the house merlot to start with, plus a glass of water.”
“Sure, Carrie.” A note in her voice made me look up at her. Had Neal just walked out with Janelle? But when I glanced in the direction she was staring, I saw that she was looking at Jack. “I’ll bring your beer soon, Jack,” she called to him.
Had he demanded that she serve him before taking the orders? No matter. Jack could wait like the rest of us. As I continued looking toward him, Neal and Janelle did in fact appear.
People always remark on the strong resemblance between my brother and me, thanks to our similar Kennersly characteristics. I’m not sure whether these characteristics are more masculine or feminine, but I consider my blond brother handsome and myself okay-looking. And Janelle was pretty that night, as always.
They joined us at our table—and the seats Jack asked them to occupy left one chair empty on his other side, the side opposite Billi. This meant we must indeed be expecting someone else, and I wondered even more who it was.
Gwen took Neal and Janelle’s drink orders, then hurried inside. I noted no drama between them.
Jack started the conversation by asking Neal if he had any hikes scheduled soon. He was aware that my brother’s passion was his work as a local tour guide. Neal took tourists, and locals, too, on hikes as often as he could get a group together.
Neal answered affirmatively. He had several dates in mind, and even hoped to lead a hike the evening of Halloween. “Not to collect candy like the trick-or-treaters, though,” he assured everyone.
We all started discussing whether we intended to wear any Halloween costumes, and I let people know I’d be baking special people treats at Icing on the Cake for the holiday. Janelle promised to take lots of pictures of all of us, since in addition to working for me, she was a great professional photographer.
As we spoke, I noticed a woman stand briefly in the doorway, then head in our direction, grinning broadly and seeming to stare at Jack. Was she the person who’d be sitting with us?
“Hey, Jack,” she called effusively as she reached his side. She was short, pretty, and dressed all in black, with a mop of curly blond hair. I wondered who she was.
Jack rose. “Everyone, this is Wanda Addler. She works with me at VimPets, and I’ve brought her along on this trip to see how I promote our products—and how I look for new opportunities.” He glanced down and winked at me.
“That’s right. Hi, everyone.” Wanda looked around the table. Her glance seemed to stop on Billi. Did they know each other?
Before I could figure anything out, Wanda turned back to Jack. She pulled his head down toward her, apparently knocking him a little off balance, since he grabbed the back of his chair.
A moment later, Wanda’s mouth was on Jack’s, and that kiss looked like one sexy act. It lasted for a while, too. Jack appeared to try to pull away at first, but remained pressed up against Wanda for several long seconds.
When he finally succeeded in pulling back, his eyes were open wide and he seemed to swallow hard.
Before he could say anything, though, Wanda’s gaze swept the table once more, landing finally on Billi. And if I was any judge of what she was doing, she sure appeared to be sending a smug and challenging look toward our huge-eyed, frowning City Council-woman.
Two
I shot a look at Billi, too—one both curious and sympathetic. Had she known Jack was seeing someone else, a coworker who was with him on this trip?
I guessed not, since although the expression she leveled on Jack looked calculatedly neutral, her mouth curved downward at the corners. If I had to guess, I’d believe she felt somewhat crushed.
“Well, well,” Billi said after we all were silent for a moment. “Who knew? And you work together? You must see each other a lot, and how convenient. How lucky—although I thought it was generally frowned on for coworkers to see each other socially.”
I swallowed a bit at that and glanced toward Reed, beside me. He only smiled, although I figured he knew why I was looking at him. I supposed some people at our veterinary hospital might be frowning at us now and then. We didn’t publicize the fact that we were seeing each other socially, but neither did we hide it—not that we kissed or anything like that at our clinic. At least not much. He was a vet, I was a vet tech, and we worked—and played—well together.
In fact, the clinic’s main vet, Dr. Arvus Kline, was aware of it, and Arvie always seemed to encourage it. He was a good friend of mine, after all, as well as to Reed, and wanted the best for us—which, I assumed, meant he could see us developing a real relationship someday.
“Well, we don’t exactly advertise it,” Wanda said, her arm still around Jack’s shoulders as she stood beside him, an expression of triumph still on her face. “But yeah, we’re lucky.”
Physically, she appeared to me to be the antithesis of slender and lovely Billi. Oh, she was pretty enough, but shorter and plumper than my friend, who worked out often in her spa. Wanda’s blond hair was a golden cap around her full face. She wore slacks, and her tight sweater appeared to have been chosen to highlight her generous curves.
Jack turned, in effect shrugging off Wanda’s embrace. If I read his expression as well as I believed I’d interpreted Wanda’s, he was embarrassed but wanted to appear fully unemotional.
Was she the reason he hadn’t invited Billi at first? I’d have bet on it.
Rigsley stood up then, and so did Biscuit and Hugo. Jack bent to pat each of them briefly. Wanda ignored them.
“Sure, we’re friends, and we work together,” Jack said. “I like that. But … well, let’s not get carried away.” This, of course, was addressed to Wanda, whose triumphant smile turned into an irritated glare.
“Oh, I’m not carried away,” she said, blinking her bright blue eyes—again, very different from Billi’s brown ones. “Unless you want to carry me over the threshold of your apartment.” She grinned at his shocked look, then turned her smile toward Billi. “I’m staying there with him, you know.”
Her smile appeared challenging, as if she was daring Billi to ask if she was taking full advantage of nighttimes spent in the same apartment as Jack. Whether she was or not, I figured I knew what Wanda would say—and didn’t really want to know.
Instead, ignoring her—and Jack, t
oo—I gently pulled Biscuit and Hugo’s leashes and got them to settle down again, then turned to Reed as Rigsley also joined his master. “I heard rumors of a really wonderful lifesaving situation you were involved in at the clinic the other day. I want to hear all about it.”
If the rest of our tablemates didn’t, too bad. At least it would change the subject.
“Well, it started when Billi called us from Mountaintop Rescue,” Reed began, looking over my shoulder toward where Billi sat. She was now facing us, ignoring Jack and the woman who claimed to have all his attention now. Good. I didn’t want to look at him at this moment either. Although to see my friend, I did have to look in Jack’s direction.
Billi recounted her part in the very moving tale, about how a sixteen-year-old boy who sometimes volunteered at Mountaintop Rescue had burst into the shelter a couple of days ago, crying that he had a dog in his car who’d jumped out of the woods when he was on the way up the mountain toward Knobcone Heights. He didn’t see the dog until it was too late, and had hit it. He made sure the dog was still alive and put it in his car, driving to the shelter as fast as he dared.
When Billi and her staff went out to the car, they found a very injured dog who appeared to be a Golden Retriever mix. They borrowed the kid’s keys and drove the damaged pup immediately to the Knobcone Veterinary Clinic. There, Reed had been the first vet to hurry out to the vehicle, and he got staff who brought the dog in on a gurney.
It had all happened at a time when I wasn’t working there, so I’d only heard part of the story.
“I don’t want to go into the gory details,” Reed said, and I turned back toward him. “But there were a lot of injuries we needed to deal with. It was touch and go … but fortunately mostly go. He’s still with us at the hospital, and it looks like he’ll survive.”
“That’s so wonderful.” Billi’s smile was now genuine-looking, for the first time since Wanda had appeared.
“Absolutely,” I said.
“Well, gee, that is a happy ending,” Wanda broke in. “Looks like there’s another dog that could be fed with VimPet products soon.”
Maybe so, but it was a weird thing to say. Having the poor dog heal from his injuries didn’t have a huge amount to do with what he ate, as long as his food was nutritious.
But keeping this dog, and others, in good health could have a lot to do with their food—or treats. In fact, Jack had told me when we’d first met that he loved the idea of purchasing recipes created specifically to keep dogs in good health, or to help them become healthier. And his superiors now agreed with him. What better promotion was there for their company than to be able to say a vet tech had created some of their products to help her clinic’s patients? My recipes were unlike many other treat recipes that were put together carefully yet somewhat randomly, without having a specific health goal in mind.
In other words, my recipes were the best, since they’d nearly all been developed by me, at home, while I worked at the vet clinic. I had a nutritional purpose for each treat, a particular type of sensitivity or illness to deal with. So far, all my treats had seemed to work well for whatever issue I approached. And I’d do the same thing with any recipes I created for VimPets.
VimPets marketed its products nationally. All of its products contained supposedly healthy ingredients, or at least they were promoted that way. Adding any of my treats to their inventory and promoting how they were created could only help the company’s reputation. I somewhat liked the idea, especially on behalf of promoting the Barkery, but hadn’t been too eager to actually get started on it.
And now, seeing this Wanda woman, who also worked for VimPets—well, I wasn’t at all sure I wanted to do anything to aid a company that hired people like her.
Jack had sometimes brought other VimPets personnel on his many trips, and I’d had no reason—before—to dislike any of them. But that was before.
Gwen brought our drinks and stayed to take our food orders then, and I appreciated the timing. After she left, I pondered how to again direct the conversation in a way that wouldn’t ruin this gathering any more than it already had been, but just then I heard some music, presumably a phone’s ring.
Wanda pulled a phone from her purse, which was hung over the back of her chair. Making no apologies as she glanced at the screen, she stood up and walked away.
Good. We could hope it would be a nice, long call.
“So glad your rescue story had a happy ending.” I smiled first at Reed at my left, then toward Billi at my right.
“Absolutely,” Billi said and took a sip of her wine.
Conversations at the table began again. They were general and seemed somewhat uncomfortable, even in Wanda’s absence. We all thanked Gwen when she brought out delicious wheat rolls and butter.
After I’d taken my first bite, though, Billi said quietly, “I’d like a potty break. Care to join me?”
I heard an undercurrent there, as if she had something she wanted to discuss with me, so I said, “Good idea.”
I asked Reed to keep an eye on Biscuit. I could have asked Neal or Janelle, too. They all liked my beautiful and adorable little dog —especially Neal, who always called her “Bug.”
The restroom was relatively roomy. Before we entered the stalls, I continued the conversation I’d begun with Billi on the way over, speaking softly.
“You know Jack’s one giant flirt,” I said quietly. “Remember, you even asked if I was okay with you dating him, since he’d flirted with me for a while, and—”
“Yes, I remember all that, of course. Even so, he was being somewhat serious with me, though I still saw how he acted with nearly every woman he had a conversation with. And now—well, I’ll have to get over it. I did think we were heading toward something special. He made it look that way. I was beginning to really—”
Before she could finish, a stall door opened. Wanda walked out. She just stood there and smiled. “Well, fancy seeing both of you here. And it’s a good thing you’re backing away from him, Councilwoman.” She turned to face only Billi. “You see, the thing is, I know Jack and who and what he is. He’s a great asset to VimPets—and to me. And now that I’ve set my sights on him, you can be sure he’ll be all mine.”
She turned her back on us, then, as if we weren’t there—or if we were, we didn’t matter—and washed her hands.
I aimed a glance at Billi, whose expression appeared livid. Hey, she was a City Councilperson. She’d run for office, which meant she was used to competing for what she wanted.
Would she want to compete with this nasty witch for Jack? Wouldn’t it be better just to dump him?
I wasn’t about to ask while we were still in Wanda’s presence. Instead, I pursed my lips, shook my head, and headed for one of the stalls. Billi chose the stall next to mine, both of us pretending to ignore Wanda even as she pretended to ignore us.
When I came out, Wanda was no longer there. The door to Billi’s stall remained closed. “She’s gone,” I said.
“Good.” Billi’s door slammed open, as if she’d been waiting for me to give her the green light to exit.
Though Billi and I were good friends, I wasn’t sure what to say to her. I began with the obvious. “Whatever Jack thinks of her, she knows you and he have something going and is trying to push you apart. The question is—do you care enough about Jack to jump into her little game? My opinion is that, if you do want a genuine relationship with Jack, and he wants it too, let him be the one to tell her where to go.”
“Yeah. Back to LA, fast. Before I really decide to kick her butt.” Billi was muttering as she finished washing her hands.
“It’s easy enough for me to say,” I said as I reached for a paper towel from the dispenser next to the sinks, “but I think this is Jack’s situation to fix. And if he doesn’t, then that tells you who he really is.”
Billi aimed her angry brown eyes at me. “Yo
u’re right. I know it. But just in case he doesn’t tell her to buzz off—or at least buzz off anything personal, since they work together—I would absolutely hate to have her think she’s winning this situation.”
“If he doesn’t tell her to buzz off,” I said quietly, not moving my gaze from hers, “then she does win. But that also would tell you that Jack’s not worth the tiniest bit of effort to fight over.”
That apparently got to her. She’d been standing tall and stiff near the sinks, but now her shoulders lowered and her position loosened. “Hey, Carrie Kennersly, has anyone ever told you that you’re a good judge of people, not just pets?”
I smiled broadly. “I think someone just did. Thanks. Now, let’s go back and show both of them that you’re in charge of your own life and feelings.”
We returned to the table just in time for Gwen to serve our meals. All the dogs with us sat up and started wagging their tails, and I appreciated their greeting.
I half expected Wanda to be sitting on Jack’s lap, or leaning beside him nibbling his ear, or something else equally yucky. Instead, there was an interesting conversation going on about dogs and taking care of them, both from a veterinary and feeding perspective, which was appropriate to this group though not exactly neutral, as it turned out.
Reed caught my eye as I took my seat again and tossed me a sympathetic look.
“Then you do think all dogs should be saved when possible, Dr. Storme?” That was Wanda, and she stared across the table toward Reed.
“Of course,” he said, turning toward her.
“But some are known to be aggressive. And others—well, there are a lot who will never live with people but are stuck at shelters to live out every minute of their sorry lives.” Wanda’s look now was straight on Billi, as if challenging her to come up with something that made all dogs’ lives worthwhile, even if they remained unhomed and unloved.
“Mountaintop Rescue, and many other first-rate shelters, have workers and volunteers who do everything possible to show love to the residents while we have them, as well as find them new homes.” That was Billi speaking, the ultimate pet rescue organization representative. She sounded matter-of-fact, as if in educator mode, even though I suspected she spoke through gritted teeth toward this woman. “If any dog is poorly trained or homeless, you can blame the people who should have taken care of him, or at least had his parents spayed and neutered.”
Bad to the Bone Page 2