Rescued Heart

by Georgia Beers

“Ah. Got it.”

  She could feel Carly stiffen a bit next to her, but thankfully, she didn’t contradict what Ashley had said. A glance in Jenna’s direction and was met by inquisitively raised eyebrows, but like Carly, Jenna said nothing. Ashley knew she’d be dealing with this later, and she was not looking forward to it.

  Other than that bump, the evening was fun. Sling wasn’t terribly busy on a Sunday night, so it felt like they had the place to themselves. Ashley wolfed down her cheeseburger and fries so fast she surprised even herself. When she looked up to meet Jenna’s grin, she shrugged. “I was starving.”

  “Obviously,” Jenna said. Then, “I have to pee. Come with me.”

  Ashley rolled her eyes, but wiped her mouth with a napkin, asked Carly to order her a second beer, and followed Jenna.

  The ladies’ room smelled strongly of some sort of orange air freshener that wouldn’t be unpleasant in a larger room or a smaller dose. The walls were painted a muted orange, and three stalls were separated by gray metal dividers. Jenna went into one. Ashley figured she might as well go while she was there and took the one next to her.

  “Things with Carly seem to be going well. Yeah?” Jenna asked through the steel that separated them.

  “Yeah.”

  After a beat, Jenna said, “Jesus, Ash, stop overwhelming me with all the flowery language. I can only take so much.” Ashley laughed. When they were both at the sinks washing their hands, Jenna met her gaze in the mirror. “Seriously, though. You’re good?”

  Ashley pulled her eyes away and moved to the paper towel dispenser. “Yup. I’m good.”

  Jenna wasn’t convinced—Ashley could tell by her expression—but she didn’t push. Instead, she said simply, “I just want you to be happy. You’ve been on your own for a while now. You deserve to have somebody who thinks you’re amazing. Like I do.” With a wink, Jenna kissed Ashley’s temple and left the room.

  Ashley looked at her own reflection for a long moment before she followed her friend back to the table and eased into her chair, under Carly’s arm once again.

  By eleven o’clock, conversation died down a bit and the group started to disperse, most claiming work the next day. Ashley hadn’t known how long she’d be at the fundraiser, so she’d smartly taken tomorrow off. Even so, she’d been regularly yawning for the better part of an hour.

  “Ready to go?” Carly asked as two others stood and gathered their things.

  “I am. I was up at five this morning.”

  They stood together and Carly held Ashley’s hoodie so she could slide her arms in. Goodnights went around the table and the group slowly milled out the door. Carly’s hand slid down Ashley’s arm and grasped her hand. Her grip was warm and firm as they walked to the parking lot.

  “So…I’ll call you tomorrow? After work?” Carly asked as they reached Ashley’s car.

  “Sure.” Ashley hadn’t told Carly she’d taken the day off, and she still didn’t tell her. She didn’t want to examine why.

  “Good.” Carly smiled, her teeth shining white in the dim light of the lot. She really was quite attractive, her dark hair a wavy cloud around her head, her brown eyes soft and kind. She moved in closer to Ashley, gently pinning her between the car and her body, and she bent down to Ashley’s mouth for kiss. Their lips pressed together, and Ashley closed her eyes, willed herself to relax and just chill. Carly’s mouth worked slowly against hers, her tongue eventually seeking entrance, which Ashley allowed. It was a nice kiss. It was fine.

  It was fine.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice questioned whether fine was acceptable. It was. Wasn’t it? This wasn’t a romance novel or a romantic film. This was real life and real life didn’t always come with fireworks and attraction that was near combustible. Right? Real life was calm and comfortable. Easy and stable.

  Like kissing Carly. It was nice.

  Ashley extricated herself from Carly’s arms. She wanted to get in her car and drive home as quickly as she possibly could, but she also wanted to spare Carly’s feelings and not just rush off. So she forced herself to move slowly, to smile, to be kind. “I really have to go. I’m so tired.”

  “Okay,” Carly said, her grin wide, her eyes unassuming. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Carly leaned in for one more kiss, then backed away slowly and lifted one hand in a sweet little wave. Ashley waved back, got in her car, closed and locked the door. She keyed the ignition, then looked at herself in the rearview mirror, squinted.

  It was fine.

  Everything was just fine.

  What more could she ask for than that?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Manager meetings happened every Monday morning at eight, and today was no exception. Lisa took her usual seat on the side of the long, cherry conference table, Starbucks cup in hand, notebook opened in front of her. A couple other people had tablets or laptops for note taking, but Lisa liked to go old school, liked the feel of pen on paper. She was exhausted from yesterday’s activities, but the coffee was helping.

  The meetings were generally attended by eight people, if everybody was present, and this morning, everybody was. Lisa looked around the room at her peers. Some were her friends. Some were simply acquaintances, colleagues. Some were friends with each other, some were not. Her gaze landed across the table and on Catherine Gardner, looking impeccably better dressed than anybody else in the room—as always—in a gray pantsuit, her black-rimmed glasses perched on her nose as she looked over a paper Lisa could only assume was full of numbers.

  Three seats down sat Anna St. John, their public relations person who hated to be called cute, but that’s exactly what she was. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, one hank of it hanging down next to her left eye. She wore jeans and navy T-shirt with a gray zip-up Junebug Farms hoodie as a jacket, her outfit the antithesis of Catherine’s formal business attire. The dark circles that had underlined her soft brown eyes as of late seemed less prominent this morning, which was good, and she squinted slightly as she looked at something on her phone. As she did so, one corner of her pink-glossed mouth quirked up in a half-smile. Lisa was glad any time she saw Anna smile lately, as she’d had her heart broken not so long ago. By Catherine.

  David Peters sauntered in then. Lisa was constantly amazed at how much he got done, as she always thought he seemed to move slower than everybody else, which she was starting to realize was an optical illusion, maybe because of his bulk. He was the head of fundraising at Junebug Farms, and that alone should have had him running around like a lunatic yesterday, but his speed never varied from his usual saunter. Bald head the color of milk chocolate, it gleamed in the overhead light. His broad shoulders and solid biceps strained against his oxford shirt and Lisa felt a strange sympathy for the fabric that was trying so hard to contain his musculature. Lisa would bet money he’d just come from the gym. He took a seat, plastic tumbler in hand and filled with something unappetizingly green.

  Donna Christianson, the event coordinator for Junebug Farms and Maggie Simon from the gift shop rounded out the meeting, the two of them with their heads together chatting about something Lisa couldn’t hear. They didn’t have to wait long for the head of things to show up.

  Jessica Barstow didn’t go as far as Catherine did when it came to dressing for work, but she still managed to look several cuts above everybody else in the room. Always. Navy dress slacks and slight heels made her look slick and professional. The powder blue silk blouse with the sleeves already rolled up at 8am gave her the air of a stern businesswoman who was completely in charge of her company. Her auburn hair was pulled into a loose ponytail this morning, the escaping strands softening her entire look. Well, the escaping strands and the big smile on her face. Pam Redmond, Jessica’s assistant and right hand, trailed in immediately behind her. Pam took the chair nearest Jessica, extracted a notebook from her bag, and looked up expectantly, pen poised.

  “Good morning.” As murmured greetings went
around the room, Jessica continued. “I am happy to report that yesterday was a huge success, assuming I’m reading the reports correctly.” She set down a faux leather portfolio and a mug of coffee, then took a seat at the head of the table. “I want to thank you all for your hard work.”

  They did the usual Monday meeting agenda. Jessica gave them a summary of the previous week and touched on headline issues that each manager would talk about in more depth as they went around the table. She finished up, then turned things over to David, then Maggie, and so on. Each person gave a report about yesterday, complete with lots of smiling and joking. Catherine’s report was the most anticipated, as she was all about the money. She gave them the total that had come in from donations during the fundraiser and the number earned enthusiastic whoops and cheers.

  “The Breckenridge Foundation came through, as always, with a huge chunk. Oh, and Lisa,” Catherine looked over the rim of her glasses. “Seems Clark’s chosen his newest conquest and she’s one of yours. Amber? Andrea? Something with an A. That cute, perky blonde that’s always smiling.”

  “Ashley,” Lisa said, on a sigh.

  “Ashley. That’s it.”

  “Thank God it’s not one of mine this time,” Maggie said quietly from her end of the table. She threw a sympathetic look Lisa’s way.

  “Can’t you keep a leash on him?” Lisa tried unsuccessfully to keep the irritation out of her voice. “Every fundraiser he has to do this?”

  Catherine shrugged. “They’re all adults. Not my problem.”

  Lisa shook her head in disgust, and tried to ignore the fact that Clark anywhere near Ashley made Lisa decidedly uncomfortable. She wasn’t about to analyze that. Catherine’s response was not unexpected, which was annoying, as usual. She tiptoed around the Breckenridges because of the money they donated, and part of Lisa understood that. But they’d had more than one woman at Junebug who’d fallen for Clark’s questionable “charms,” and they always ended up hurt, angry, or both. Plus they never ended up staying.

  Jessica stepped in and nipped the potential, all-too-familiar argument in the bud. “Let’s just keep an eye on things, okay?”

  They finished going around the table. Reporting on the adoptions from yesterday went a long way toward making Lisa feel better—or at least let go of her irritation for the time being.

  “That’s fantastic,” Donna said. “That’s a lot of cats to get scooped up in one day.”

  Lisa nodded happily. “It was a good day.”

  The meeting wrapped up, and everybody stood to head off in their own directions. Jessica left the room first, walking half a speed faster than the average person. Pam followed on her heels and Lisa grinned to herself, as she always thought of Pam as Jessica’s soccer mom tail. Everywhere Jessica went, there was Pam, right behind her. Always.

  “I’m not unsympathetic, you know.”

  Catherine’s voice surprised her, as did the fact that she was suddenly right next to her. Lisa met her gaze. “I know that. But this isn’t news. He does this all the time. How many volunteers have we lost thanks to him?”

  Catherine didn’t argue. “I know. You’re right. But…”

  She didn’t have to go on. Lisa got the message. “His checkbook is worth more than a dozen volunteers. Says you.”

  “It’s not just me, Lisa. It’s fact. I am doing my best to keep him in check. In fact, I rescued your girl from him yesterday. That’s how I knew he had the hots for her. He told me. The ‘little blond cupcake,’ he called her.”

  “Charming,” Lisa said, revolted. “And she’s not my girl.”

  “Oh. Well. You know what I mean.” Catherine gave her a wink and left the room, Lisa watching her go.

  “Sometimes, I can’t stand that bitch,” she muttered, gathering her things. At the sound of a muffled chuckle, she looked up to meet Anna’s brown eyes across the table.

  “Get in line,” Anna said.

  Mondays were notoriously quiet and this one was no exception. Lisa spent the day doing intake paperwork, as well as filling out forms and making phone calls and arrangements for the people who had adopted dogs and cats at the Pawsitively Spring event. Only a few people came in to wander the dog wing, one of them a petite, dark-haired woman in jeans and a Carhartt jacket who set Lisa’s gaydar to pinging like a car alarm. The woman strolled up and down the corridor three or four times, each time stopping in front of the same cage door: number sixteen.

  Lisa pulled the file, saw that the dog in cage sixteen was fairly new. He was some sort of terrier mix, about twenty-five pounds with a black, wiry coat and soulful brown eyes. He’d been brought in last week as a stray, and Lisa was kind of surprised he hadn’t been adopted yesterday. Dogs his size and breed usually went quickly.

  The woman paced once more, stopped in front of the cage, and squatted down. Lisa could hear her gentle murmurs, and the security cameras allowed her to watch on one of the four monitors behind her desk what was transpiring. The dog had his nose to the cage door and the woman was stroking him with whatever fingers she could fit through the mesh fencing. The dog’s tail wagged slowly, uncertainly, as he sniffed the woman. He didn’t back away. Rather, the wagging of his tail sped up a bit. Lisa grinned. This was a good sign.

  After ten or fifteen minutes of quiet conversation with the dog, the woman took her leave. As she reached Lisa’s desk on her way out, she winked at her and said simply, “I’ll be back.”

  “We’ll be here,” Lisa said with a smile. Excellent. The terrier mix was most likely going to get a home.

  Adoptions were the best part of Lisa’s job by far. People were filled with such joy when they were about to take a pet home. And frankly, so were the pets. Especially the dogs. Lisa had read a study once that claimed dogs instinctively knew that being in a shelter was bad and when somebody adopted them—essentially saving them from the shelter—they knew that, too, and experienced the canine equivalent of undying gratitude. Shelter dogs were often said to be more loyal and loving than dogs who had never been in the same situation.

  It was close to six by the time Lisa was wrapping things up. Tammy Renner, who had been a volunteer at Junebug Farms for close to ten years, had offered to take over for the evening shift, since there were three more appointments scheduled for adoption pickups. While she was not the kind of person who was comfortable handing over the reins to the department she ran like a drill sergeant, Lisa didn’t mind turning things over to Tammy. She was one of the few volunteers Lisa trusted to handle things and handle them correctly. Plus, Lisa was exhausted from yesterday.

  “These people are coming at seven. They’re adopting the black Lab mix.” Lisa ran a fingertip down the schedule on her computer monitor so Tammy could follow. “These people are taking Old Gertrude.”

  “Old Gertrude got a forever home?” Tammy asked, obviously delighted to see their nearly ten-year-old feline resident find someplace to live. “That’s terrific.”

  “It’s a nice, newlywed couple. I liked them.”

  Tammy smiled and gave a nod.

  “And this woman is taking the bulldog mix.”

  “Got it.” Tammy was still smiling.

  “You know, I don’t say it nearly enough, but thank you for all you do here.”

  There was a quick flash of surprise on Tammy’s face, but she covered it quickly and patted Lisa’s arm. “You’re welcome. And I love it here, so it’s not work to me.”

  “Well.” Lisa pushed an arm into the sleeve of her jacket. “Thank you anyway.”

  “Have a great night,” Tammy called as Lisa exited the dog wing and pulled out her cell to check for texts as she strode across the lobby.

  “Lisa. There you are.”

  Lisa looked up from her cell and into the cool blue eyes of none other than Clark Breckenridge. She stopped walking and cleared her throat, reminding herself not to let on how truly repulsive she found the man. It was largely due to his family that Junebug Farms was able to run as easily as it did. “Mr. Breckenridge. Hello. Are you
looking for Catherine?” She craned her neck in the direction of the accounting office, praying she’d see her and be able to hand him off. No luck.

  “Please. Call me Clark.” Breckenridge smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Lisa had noticed long ago that it almost never reached his eyes. “And no, in fact, I was looking for you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. I was wondering if that cute little cupcake of a volunteer of yours was working tonight.”

  Lisa ground her teeth and mentally counted to five before she made a show of scrunching up her face in thought and saying, “Hmm. I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  He held his hand flat next to his shoulder. “About so high? Blonde? Always smiling? Great ass?”

  Lisa squinted at him and shook her head. “Sorry. Doesn’t ring a bell.”

  His look of irritated frustration was totally worth it. “Ashley,” he finally said. “I’m pretty sure her name’s Ashley.”

  “Oh! Ashley.” Lisa nodded as if she finally understood whom he meant. “No, I’m sorry. She’s not working tonight.”

  “Aw, bummer. Do you know when she’s on next?”

  Wednesday at five o’clock, she thought as she made another big show of wracking her brain. “Hmm. Let me think.” She went so far as to tap her chin with a fingertip. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t know for sure.” Before he realized it, she stepped around him, wanting to make an exit before he asked her to look up the volunteer schedule, which she had no way to deny him. “Good to see you, Mr. Breckenridge. Take care.” She walked as fast as she could to the door without actually running away from him and made it through without incident. Not that he won’t just go ask Tammy, she thought to herself, knowing that’s exactly what he’d do. And he’d get his answer. Lisa wasn’t sure why she felt so protective of Ashley. She hardly knew the woman. It was true that the idea of any woman with a creep like Breckenridge kind of grossed her out. But the idea of him with Ashley made Lisa’s skin crawl.

  She didn’t let herself analyze why.