I hold up the leg again and note that while the trap punctured both sides of the leg, the damage is not too extensive and we won't need to amputate. There is a lot of blood, but the damage is minimal and superficial. This dog is lucky.
I stitch up the larger puncture wounds, add some topical cream to the smaller punctures and carefully wrap the leg.
"It looked worse than it is. Roger is lucky in that there’s minimal damage and we didn't need to do anything significant to any of his tendons. One of us can make a home visit to check in on him over the next few days to make sure he is healing properly. We’ll give you plenty of bandages, as they will need to be changed a few times a day. I would suggest that you move the traps outside of your property line and perhaps fence it off to avoid this from happening in the future." I smile at her as I toss my gloves in the trash bin beside the wall.
"Yes, doctor." Her voice quivers. "But Roger— you’re sure he will be fine?"
"Yeah, Jo. He's gonna be fine. He'll be a little sore, but we'll check in on him this week," I assure her. "Make sure his water and food are near him if he does not want to use his back leg much. He will be sore and will definitely favor that leg for a few days."
"You boys will get free cheesecake from here on out. Anytime you want it." She rushes over to Cyrus's side and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek, then comes to me and repeats the token of gratitude. "Are you sure I can't pay for tonight?" she asks one last time.
When I shake my head, I see tears glisten in her eyes.
"I'm so happy you boys are setting up in Sweeny. It's just what this town needs," she gushes.
Cyrus picks up Roger and starts to walk to the door. I rush to hold it open for the both of them as they make their way through.
When he returns, he looks sheepish.
"Listen, I know I shouldn't have agreed to let her come here, what with the potential liability, but I didn't want to turn her away when we are completely capable of helping." His hands are in his front pockets; he looks down at the floor and kicks at the air while he looks nervous as he speaks.
"I know. I would have done the same thing in your place. We have two weeks until we open, and I just don't want anything to fuck it up for us," I reply sincerely. “Plus, I feel like a complete dick that we didn’t have our full order of meds here yet to properly give the dog something. We should overnight some antibiotics to make sure an infection is prevented.”
He nods with me then looks up with a smile on his face, changing his demeanor. "But did you hear that? She’s glad we're here. There's a demand for a vet clinic here, if tonight proves anything."
"Cy, we knew there was a need," I remind him. “We did our research, this wasn't news to us. And it’s not news to everyone here. You didn’t need to add that in when she first came in.”
"True. But you can admit it was nice to hear that from someone other than us or my parents." He smiles.
Emma arrives shortly after Cyrus leaves. She strolls in with her laptop bag and a smile and sits beside me at my desk. She winks at me over her computer screen, then leans back in the chair to wait for it to boot up. She's wearing short shorts and a purple tank top. Her hair is braided and she has the shiny stuff on her lips again, creating a bare look with sparkles that draws my eye.
"How's your day goin'?" she asks softly.
"We had Jo from the diner come in and we treated her dog. So, my quiet, get-work-done day turned into a different kind of work." I smile as I place my hand on her bare thigh.
"Oh, wow, that's exciting," she replies. "Is Roger going to be okay?"
"Such a small town when you even know other people's pets’ names." I laugh. "Yeah, Roger is going to be fine."
"Good. With everything that happened today, were you able to think about what you what the flyer to say? I think we should make sure it gets put up soon. It's only a few weeks until your grand opening."
"I did." I slide the notepad over to her and she smiles.
"This is workable." She opens up a web browser and a few computer applications and we get to work.
Hours pass and it’s well after dark when Emma and I call it quits. We stand outside beside our cars debating our next move.
"Do you want to come over tonight?" I ask her with hope.
"I would love to, but I need to get up early in the morning."
"Oh yeah? What do you have going on tomorrow?"
"Some meeting Willie set up with someone from the city who is interested in selling her product in our boutique. It's a breakfast meeting, so I need to get a good night's sleep."
"Are you trying to tell me you cannot get a good night's sleep at my place?" I shoot her a wounded look.
"No, I definitely can. You are just a distraction. I need to fully focus on work."
"Okay, okay. Oh yeah, I forgot." I pull out a folded note and hand it to her. As our hands touch, a ripple of energy moves through my body and I lean into her. I kiss her gently. The shiny sparkly stuff on her lips tastes like strawberries and my mouth slants over hers to deepen the kiss. Her hands wrap around my neck as her body melts against mine. I back her up against her car and I rub my hard-on into her.
Fuck. She feels so good.
We pull away from one another breathless, our gazes lust filled.
"Okay, I'll sleep over," she whispers, pulling me back to her as she takes over the kiss.
11
HER
Sleeping over at Royce's turned out to be a better decision for me than going home after all. Turns out, Effie had her latest summer fling and his friends over to the house for a huge party, as evidenced by the beer cans and random individuals I find sleeping on the floor and the couches as I walk through the house to my bedroom. Therefore, even if I had come home last night, I would have had a shit night's sleep.
I quickly shower, brush my teeth, and dress to impress in hopes of gaining this vendor’s business.
Having someone else's consignment in the boutique may help business, especially with those who aren't from here. The summer months make up for the slump that the boutique feels during the winter, so there's never a danger in losing the business; however, this is an added perk Sweeny having a busy summer season.
I walk into the diner and note that Willie isn't here yet. I grab a booth and sit patiently waiting for someone who looks like they're from the city to walk in. Instead, Willie walks in and sees me first.
"Is she here yet?" Willie asks, looking around the diner.
"Not that I know of. Do you know what she looks like?"
"I googled her. She's gorgeous. She looks tall, very lean and regal looking. She definitely doesn't look like she would fit in in our town."
So, no one here, I look around and think to myself.
Just then, the door swings open and a tall brunette walks into the diner. She has a look of disgust on her face until she swings her glance our way. Both Willie and I stand, hoping that this is our person.
The brunette holds out her hand. "You ladies must be Emma and Willie? Forgive me, but I was under the assumption that Willie would be a man," she says, her tone sounding slightly honeyed.
"I'm Willie and this is my business partner, Emma. It's very nice to meet you, your email said that you were interested in partnering with small boutiques, is your line anywhere else, Mrs.?" she prompts.
"Ms. Callaway," she states with a sharp nod.
"Can we sit?" I ask, motioning to the booth.
Ms. Callaway regards the booth, then slowly takes a seat and sets aside her expensive handbag, a handbag that likely cost at least one month's rent on both our house and boutique combined.
She pulls out a brochure and begins to rattle off design information and price points. She pays special attention to me, rather than Willie, to the point of making me a little uncomfortable. She asks for my thoughts and not Willie's. She engages me in conversation and not Willie. It’s all very strange, since Willie was the one who obtained this lead.
Strange.
Then the conve
rsation turns personal.
Ms. Callaway finally addresses Willie and asks what there is to do around here. We reply simply, with the facts. We're a small town, we have a lake and that's about it. We elaborate on the types of shops and attractions our town offers, and we do speak highly of the fact that our small town is a destination town where people come from all over. As if she is unhappy with our answers, she asks if we have a vet in town out of nowhere.
"My dog, Coco, has a tummy ache and I would like to get him something to make the trip back to the city more comfortable for him," she explains.
"We will in a few weeks. The clinic isn't open just yet. However, maybe Emma can see if she can talk one of the guys into getting something for you. She's dating one of the vets," Willie replies. My face goes red when she motions to me.
Ms. Callaway's eyes go wide as she sits up straight and quickly claps her hands together.
"Let me see what I can do. Will you ladies excuse me while I make a call?" I ask, motioning for Willie to let me out.
This situation is uncomfortable. I need to have a word with Willie about offering up Royce like that.
He picks up on the third ring with a happy greeting. "Hey there,"
"Hi. Listen, I have only a second, but can I ask you a huge, huge, huge favor?"
Uh oh,” he says. "What's your bail?"
"Oh, hush. I don't need bail money. Do you have any anti-nausea medication for dogs?"
"This is such a strange question coming from you," he replies.
"It's not for me. It's for my prospective vendor. Remember that meeting I told you about. Well, not her; it's for her dog."
"Ah. Okay. I think I have something around here. Do you want to drop by the clinic or can I meet you somewhere?"
"I'll come to you. It will give me a good excuse to get a moment of fresh air. I'll be over there in five minutes." I hang up with him and walk back to the table.
"I'll go grab the medication. You ladies sit tight and I'll be right back," I say, reaching for my purse.
"Did you want us to accompany you?" Ms. Callaway asks sweetly, standing up. "We could walk with you, perhaps?" She seems oddly eager to see our little town all of a sudden.
"No, it's just around the corner. I'll be back in less than fifteen minutes." I hurry out of the diner, happy to get away. Ms. Callaway seems too weird and makes me feel uneasy. Something about the way her eyes watch me, the way she observed me when I spoke, and the strange way she would ask me questions just rubbed me the wrong way, made me feel a little uncomfortable.
Stepping outside and around the corner, I feel instantly better with the distance. As I near the clinic, I see Royce on the front porch looking down at his phone. As I get closer, I see his thumbs moving over the surface as he quickly types out a message. He looks up and his smile spreads, as he looks me up and down.
"I like this business side of you. How's the meeting going?" he asks.
"It's good. The lady gives me the creeps though."
"What does she want to put in your store?" he asks.
"Jewelry."
"Ah, those creative types."
"The medicine? I have to get back to the diner and rescue Willie from Ms. Callaway," I say.
"Dependent on the dog's weight, give half if a smaller dog and give one for a larger dog. Tell her to administer roughly a half hour before her trip. The pill will calm them for a car ride and suppress any sickness that may occur. It's usually motion sickness that young dogs get in cars, so this should curb it for the most part."
"Thank you. I'll call you later?" I begin to step down the stairs.
"Sure. Oh wait, Em?" He steps down the stairs and leans down to brush his lips against my cheek.
"Good luck," he whispers.
HIM
My phone has chirped with message upon message for the better part of the morning. All of them are from Sylvie. All of them are still being ignored.
I stand at the printer in the back of the office, watching copy after copy print out. My plan is to canvas Sweeny, the neighboring town to the east, and the town between Sweeny and Chesterville to the west with flyers for our grand opening.
Cyrus walks into the back office, gives me a friendly slap on the back, and steps around me to his chair to sit down.
"Canvassing today, right?" he asks, putting his feet up.
"That's the idea."
"Do we want to do it together?"
"I think we will cover more ground if we do it separately. We’ll start at the furthest point and work our way in. Then it won't take as long," I reply.
I hand him a large stack of flyers and we both go our separate ways.
By the time I get back to Sweeny several hours and two painful feet later, all I want to do is sit on my back patio with a nice cold beer. Instead, I come face to face with Sylvie.
How does she know where to find me?
How does she know where I live?
Why the hell is she here?
Her arms are crossed over her chest and her ankles are crossed too as she leans against her car parked in my driveway.
She pushes off and stands straight as I exit my truck.
"Making yourself at home in this drab little town, Roy?" she asks as I approach.
"What do you want?" I ask her.
"That’s not any way to greet me," she says with a pout.
"I don't have to greet you in any specific way, Syl. What. Do. You. Want?"
"You sold our home," she states, sticking out her lower lip.
"The home was mine; you just lived in it temporarily."
"That was just as much my home as it was yours."
Rather than continuing to argue facts with her, I drop it.
"What do you want? I'm not going to ask again."
"Why did you sell our house?" she asks, annoyance dripping from her tone.
"I don't need that much space in the city anymore. Not that it's any of your business."
"And this place?" she asks, one hand on her jutted hip, the other waves at the house — my house — behind her.
"None of your business," I seethe.
"Ugh!" She throws her hands up. "After everything we've shared, we can't just have a cordial conversation?"
"It’s clear you don’t remember everything the way I do. But after all the shit you pulled, I don't owe you any explanations. We've been divorced for years, Syl. Just move on with your life and leave me out of it."
"What if… what if I want you back?" Her chin quivers.
"I'm sorry, but that’s not going to happen." I shake my head.
"But why? We were good together, once upon a time," she asks.
"Again, you're not recalling the events correctly — all the lies, the relationships ruined, my career almost ruined. You and I are never getting back together. I owe you nothing, and I really, really wish that you would just stay out of my life and leave me alone." I walk past her towards my house.
"But that isn't possible, now that I signed a consignment deal with your little friend," she throws out, halting my escape.
I slowly turn around. "What?" I ball my fists at my side.
"Oh yeah, I met with two hick townie chicks this morning. I have a jewelry line I want to get into some boutiques up and down the state. Last week I had my lawyer draft up something and the girls signed off on it this morning. So I will be in this Podunk town off and on to check on my inventory and visit with your little friend."
"You don't make jewelry," I accuse her.
"You don't know that." She turns up her nose.
"Pull out of the deal. I want nothing of yours tainting her store."
"We already signed on the dotted line, Roy. An agreement is an agreement."
I'm fuming.
"So, you are Ms. Callaway with the dog? I see you've gone back to your maiden name."
"It sounded better with my name for my business." She shrugs.
"Why are you doing this?" I blow out a breath.
"I just want to be close to you."
"By getting into business with my girlfriend? That's not going to work in your favor," I advise her.
"So, you admit it; she's your girlfriend?"
"I never denied it. What's your play?"
"She doesn't know you like I do."
"You haven't known me for years now. You know me from back when we were together. I'm not the same man anymore. Em knows me now, and she's happy with that person. Just as I am."
"She and I will become friends; she'll feel sorry that she's taking my one true love away from me, so she will step aside. That's how this will play out," she states matter-of-factly.
I stare at her. "You seriously think she will believe you? What makes you think I haven't already told her about you? She knows you play games and you lie to get your way."
"It's not that simple. There's two sides to every story."
"And your story is quite insane," I retort with laughter.
"You loved me before, you can love me again," she protests in a huff.
"Sylvie. I think you're quite mistaken. I'm with Emma. I'm falling in love with Emma. I will never be in love with you again. You are my past and she is my future. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is."
The way she’s flicking her fingers tells me she's upset. I'm not playing into her games and I need to end the conversation sooner rather than later. There is nothing productive about arguing with her.
"I'm heading back home tonight. But I will be back within the week to meet with my new business partners. I expect you to rethink your stance on our situation and meet up with me when I'm in town. Answer your damn phone!" she says tightly and stomps to her car.
I blow out a breath and turn my back to her to head into the house. As soon as the front door is securely locked behind me, I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Emma. The phone rings repeatedly and goes to voicemail. After I leave a message, I begin pacing.
The anxiety I'm feeling over Sylvie trying to slither her way back into my life is not something that I want to be dealing with. The lies she will bend and intertwine into someone's thoughts to turn a person away or to reframe their thinking of me is unfathomable. I don't want Emma, her business partner, or her shop to be involved in anything to do with my ex. It's true what I said, I am falling in love with Emma, and the last thing I want is for her to be turned against me by lies.
Summer Fling Page 9