On the Edge

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On the Edge Page 98

by Jayne Ann Krentz


  There was a lot to be done before the rest of L.A. realized he’d been had.

  “I can’t believe you slept with him.” Vera sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee in front of her laptop. Her eyes were dark-rimmed. She looked like she’d pulled another all-nighter. “What happened to your dreams, Maddy?”

  Maddy stood in the foyer. Vera’s words were more uncomfortable than the sticky clothes she’d decided to wear home. She had no words. No arguments.

  “For a girl who doesn’t go to Vegas, you’ve gambled too much on Blue.”

  “It was just one night,” she managed weakly. She couldn’t fall apart, not now. “Sex between consenting adults.” Such a lie. It’d been more than sex for her. This morning in Blue’s arms, she’d felt complete, as if he was what she’d been waiting for her entire life. As if she needed nothing else to make her happy. Not filmmaking. Not storytelling. “Damn it!” The truth of what she’d done froze her inside, until it felt as if her lungs were filled with ice.

  “Yep. You might just as well enter the dry cleaning business now,” Vera said.

  Her cell phone rang. Caught in a moment of self-loathing, she didn’t want to answer it. But then she saw who it was. “Mom, what’s wrong?” Her parents never called her in the morning.

  “We’re driving to the shop and a Google Alert about one of those Rules came through on your father’s phone.” Her mother’s tone had an I-told-you-so quality that did nothing for Maddy’s spirits.

  “Blue’s been named?” Maddy forgot everything and ran to Vera’s laptop.

  Her roommate was already pulling up the L.A. Happenings site. There was a picture of Blue’s handsome face on the billboard.

  “Your father wants to know if that means your project is cancelled.”

  Maddy, who never hung up on her parents, hung up on her parents.

  Because she had no idea what the billboard meant.

  Cora hated being wrong. Wrong meant you had to apologize.

  But she was starting to realize she hated being alone. She’d dumped Portia. She’d dumped Jack. Blue had dumped her. The only people she had left were men in her contacts file who wanted to fuck her, not sit and talk over a glass of wine. Reality was harsh, but not as rough as the roiling pit in her belly that seeing the Avengers’ billboard created.

  “I’m sorry. About the Avengers and my involvement with them,” Cora said from the doorway of Blue’s office. “The billboard sucks. Are you okay?”

  “I’m not sure.” Blue sat on the floor in the corner, tossing a small ball for Mr. Jiggles. “I tried to cover my ass first thing, but…Ask me around eleven.”

  “Okay…” She fidgeted, her fingers braiding and unbraiding. She never fidgeted, but she couldn’t seem to undo her fingers. She started to back out.

  “I thought we were kind of a team.”

  “Funny thing about that.” Cora cleared her throat, feeling as alone as she had when Daddy died. “You know how I don’t date? I don’t do teams either. I wish I could. I’m just…well…no one likes me. And when people don’t like you…” She was deep in pathetic territory now.

  “You sound like an insecure high schooler. I’m your brother, not the enemy. I love you, even if I can’t stand you sometimes.” He didn’t look at her, but she recognized the gruff hurt in his voice from the days when Daddy gave out his unique punishments. “Maybe instead of submarining the people you care about, you should swallow your pride and do something to help.”

  Before she could answer, Blue’s phone rang. And then the office phone rang. He didn’t move to answer either one. Almost as soon as they stopped ringing, they started up again.

  “Aren’t you going to answer your phones?”

  “No.” One word, filled with defeat.

  I did this to him.

  Regret lurched forward, bitter at the back of her throat. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “The thing is I…I don’t think I know how to be a good friend…or a good sister.”

  “Cora…” He gently tossed the ball for Mr. J, who raced after it, tiny ears flopping wildly. He sighed, a sound so filled with disappointment that Cora almost apologized a third time. “Someone recently told me there’s a difference between can’t and won’t. I think you can do relationships, but for whatever reason, you won’t.”

  “Daddy used to say something like that.” He’d said a lot of things she’d ignored.

  “It figures.” His cell phone started beeping. Blue glanced at it and reached for the dog carrier. “I have an appointment.” He stood, still not looking at her.

  “Oh…okay.” She sounded pathetic. “I’ll just…stay here.” And feel like shit.

  “I know I’m going to regret this.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. “You can ride shotgun, but I warn you it’s going to be boring. Amber left me a list of companies to check out while she was gone. This one is getting a monthly retainer fee from us that we haven’t used.”

  Cora didn’t care about boring. She ran to get her purse, determined to become the sister Blue deserved.

  Blue was unmasked. Texts, emails and messages accumulated in his phone like rapidly multiplying locusts. He’d become the village idiot, replacing his father as being more gossip-worthy than respectable. The reactions ranged from incredulous to certainty (I knew it) to sympathetic. His defenses were trickling out too slowly. Who would want him as their life coach? No one. Clients were canceling appointments. His chance at earning his inheritance began to fade.

  Maybe he was in shock. Maybe he’d mourn later. Or maybe he was still cocooned in the afterglow of making love to Maddy. Yes, his shoulders felt heavy. Yes, his stomach felt like he’d swallowed a boulder. No, he wasn’t completely defeated. He had Maddy on his side and she was his sunny-side-up ray of optimism. He hoped.

  She’d sent him a sympathy text first thing this morning. He’d replied back, but heard nothing else from her. He was starting to wonder if she was okay. The Avengers weren’t ones to make idle threats, and they’d threatened whoever he was seeing. Maddy was due at the office at eleven. If she didn’t show, he’d go find her.

  In the meantime, he and Cora entered the Malibu Small Animal Rescue, which was located in a house in a rundown neighborhood in Malibu and was on a short list of contractors for the Dooley Foundation.

  “And I thought Mr. Jiggles was a bitch beast.” Cora shouted to be heard above the raucous sound of twenty pint-size dogs, including Mr. Jiggles, doing their best to prove who could bark loudest.

  The older woman who let them in wore a weary expression, olive shorts and a wrinkled T-shirt. She tried to quiet the pack of little dogs – poodles, terriers, Chihuahuas, and all sorts of mixes – looking as harassed as a kindergarten teacher as she shooed them behind a child gate into her kitchen. When the dogs calmed down a bit, she turned back to them, slicking her peppery gray hair behind her ears. “I’m so glad to finally meet you. I’m Donna. Dooley was very generous to us and helped us place many dogs, who in turn helped so many.”

  She caught sight of Mr. Jiggles in Blue’s carrier. “There’s a familiar face. How are you, young man? And when did you decide to go pink?” She opened the latch on the carrier.

  “Careful. He doesn’t like strangers,” Blue said, despite the suspicion that Donna was no stranger to his dog.

  She patted the poodle’s head. “They’re all difficult, or they wouldn’t end up here. Has he helped you?” she asked Blue. When he didn’t answer, she turned to Cora. “Or is he yours?”

  “He’s mine.” Blue exchanged a guarded look with Cora that he hoped said: What the fuck?

  Cora shrugged.

  “He’s come a long way in three months. You must have made excellent progress. Your father would be proud.” Donna stroked the poodle’s ears, oblivious to the freight train roaring through Blue’s head. His father? “As you can see, we’re rather full. I have no more cages free. You haven’t helped us with any adoptions in months.”

  “The Foundation has been in flux,�
� Blue said vaguely, trying to breathe the doggy-scented air evenly. Could this day get any worse? His father left him his dog in his will. Only his father didn’t own a dog. Mr. Jiggles was another of his father’s sick machinations. To what purpose? He didn’t know.

  The dog lady was oblivious to Blue’s shock. “I was hoping your visit would mean things are back up and running. I have several dogs ready for the program.”

  “Which program?” Blue asked carefully.

  The dogs started in again – barking and growling and howling.

  “Oh, dear. It’s time for their morning break.” Donna stepped over the child gate separating the living room from the kitchen and waded through the leaping, nipping, yapping dogs toward the back. The dogs scrambled after Donna, emptying the kitchen when she opened the door.

  Blue and Cora followed. The back yard was littered with chewed up high heels.

  “We get a lot of miniature misbehaving lords and ladies here.” Donna picked up a fluffy black Chihuahua. “Our goal is to have them ready for a Dooley Foundation adoption.”

  “How does that work, exactly?” Cora asked.

  “I rate them on an aggression scale. Dooley didn’t want them to have all the edges smoothed out.” Donna beamed at Blue. “Your dog was very high on the scale.”

  Cora reached down to pet a brown Pomeranian mix. The dog snapped at her hand.

  “That’s one of our more aggressive dogs. I save those for the really hard cases we get assigned.” Donna smiled. “Perhaps the little black Chihuahua to start.” She handed the dog to Cora, who started to pet it, but froze when the little dog growled and pulled its lips back from its teeth.

  “Very good.” Donna produced a treat from her pocket and gave it to the dog. “That’s the perfect response. No biting.”

  “You train them to be mean?” Cora started to hand the dog back, but Donna stepped away.

  “This is a rescue. These dogs have been abused and abandoned. I don’t have to train them to do anything. It’s in their nature. For the sake of the Foundation, I reinforce their stubborn tendencies.”

  That explained why Mr. Jiggles had been a holy terror when Blue took custody of him.

  He gave Donna an I-come-in-peace smile. “We’re here to understand the nuances behind your operation.”

  “Oh.” Donna blinked, dogs streaming around her as if she was sugar and they were hungry ants. And then a more disappointed, “Oh. You’re cancelling the program.”

  “That’s not what I said,” Blue soothed. “We won’t be able to place any more dogs if you don’t explain your end of the process. My father’s notes were…”

  “Incomplete,” Cora filled in when Blue faltered.

  The siblings exchanged a smile. For a woman who didn’t do teams, Cora was on his wavelength this morning.

  “There’s not much to tell. I rescue the animals and allow them to misbehave. None of them are truly bad.” She made kissy noises, which drew several dogs to her feet, tails wagging. “Dooley would call and tell me what kind of dog he was looking for – mildly to sharply aggressive. Someone would come pick the dog up and that was that.”

  The burden of the Avengers was nothing compared to the weight on his heart. His father left him a dog to try and fix him. “And when my father called you about this dog before he died.” He gestured to Mr. Jiggles in the carrier at his hip. “What did he tell you?”

  “The usual. The subject was self-centered and didn’t know the worth of the love he could give…” Donna eyed him warily. “But you should know this.”

  “I’m just confirming what you know,” he said past a throat clogged with pain. His father thought Blue was self-centered? That Blue was incapable of love? And he’d thought his ex-girlfriends had betrayed him?

  He took Mr. Jiggles out of his carrier, needing to hold him close. “I think I hated him at first. I resented that my dad had such a misbehaving, effeminate-looking dog. And that was before he was pink.” Blue’s gaze softened, his voice mellowed. “But it was all a sham. Mr. Jiggles was just another example of my father’s quirky self-help programs.”

  “I’ll take him back,” Donna said quietly, reaching for him.

  “No.” He held him in the crook of his arm the way Mr. J liked. “We’re a pair now, like…Batman and Robin.”

  “Kermit and Miss Piggy,” Cora murmured. She tried to put the black dog in her arms down, but it growled, so she froze again.

  “That’s what usually happens.” Donna beamed. “They’re good dogs, at heart. And with love and care, they turn into the best little companions.”

  “How many dogs would you say you placed this past year?” Blue continued to pet Mr. Jiggles.

  “Last year was slow – maybe six? No, seven, not counting your dog.”

  There’d been three little beasts at Winnie’s. Suddenly, Blue didn’t feel so singled out. Or at a loss as to what to do about Cora. “We’d like to place a dog today.”

  His sister glanced up sharply. “We do?”

  “Yes. We’ll take that one.” Blue pointed to the black dog in Cora’s arms.

  Perhaps sensing where he was going with this, Cora shook her head.

  “This is perfect.” Donna clapped her hands. “You want to learn how to be a good friend? How to be less selfish? How to love someone? Take the dog.”

  “But – ”

  Blue silenced Cora with an icy stare. “My sister needs this dog more than you know. We’ll be in touch about placing more dogs soon.”

  “We will?” Cora watched helplessly as the dog lady gathered up a carrier, a starter bag of dog food and dog dishes from a cupboard on her porch.

  “You want to increase your billings, don’t you?” With a last pat, Blue put Mr. Jiggles back in his carrier. “How many self-centered people do you know in Hollywood?”

  “Almost everyone. I only hang out with bitches, remember? At least, I used to when I had friends.”

  “You’re going to bring small dogs back in fashion. One bitch at a time.”

  And finally, Cora understood. The dog was her therapy, but also her path to her inheritance. “Every one of those bitches needs a dog. I can make living accessories cool again.”

  “Don’t kid yourself. You need that dog more than I needed Mr. Jiggles.” At her wounded expression, Blue put his arm across Cora’s shoulders in a brief hug, pulling away when the little black dog bared its teeth at him. “I’m not sure who’s more vicious – that dog or you.”

  Chapter 23

  “It sucks about the Avengers naming you, but Ivan says you figured out a way to work it to the show’s advantage.” Maddy lugged a whiteboard into Blue’s office around eleven, looking like nothing important had happened between them. Same brusque, businesslike demeanor. Same jeans and T-shirt uniform. Same blunt-cut locks swinging about her face, even when she stood still. She stopped moving long enough to connect her gaze with his. “You okay?”

  “I am now that you’re here.” It didn’t matter that he sounded smarmy. It was true. He might almost forget all the betrayals – the Avengers, Cora, his dad – if Maddy put her arms around him.

  She didn’t put her arms around him. “I’ve got it all mapped out. All we need are bachelors.”

  His cell phone rang. He ignored it, rounding his desk to get to her.

  Maddy searched for a place to put the whiteboard, and picked up his father’s print. She blinked and leaned in for a closer look. “Naked women on a picture in your office. Why am I not surprised?”

  Since Blue never saw the naked woman in the picture – only women and probably Dave seemed able to see them – he removed the print from the credenza, and set it against the wall on the floor by his desk. “You can put your board here.” He moved close enough for Maddy to give him a hello kiss, but she darted past him and propped up her board, backing herself into the corner.

  Pride and lack of sleep fought with the abundance of need she created and the memory of how comfortable he’d felt in her embrace, tethering him in the middle
of the room. Since he’d dropped her off at the hotel early this morning, his day had been hellish. The only bright spot was Maddy. Or would have been if she’d put her arms around him and kiss him. In her arms, he didn’t feel like the scumbag the Avengers accused him of being. He’d renew his man card tomorrow. Today, he needed a little T.L.C.

  “These are the women I’m recommending for the pilot.” She refused to look at him. Her hands fluttered around as if she wanted to take flight.

  Maddy was uncomfortable. With him?

  Blue frowned.

  In his dog bed, Mr. Jiggles yawned, tired after a morning spent playing with Cora’s black beast, Brutus.

  Maybe Maddy wasn’t uncomfortable around Blue. Maybe she was spooked by what was happening between them. Not that he knew what it was. He just liked it. He had to get them back to where they were last night, where there were no boundaries between them. He needed to re-establish trust.

  Drawing a deep breath, Blue took a step toward her.

  Her eyes widened and she blurted, “We’ll need to bring your exes in for some advance relationship coaching with you before we send them on dates. And it would be great if we could get some footage of them on a date trying out their skills after you do your matchmaking voodoo.”

  Not wanting to spook her, Blue sidled behind his desk, as if he was going to sit down. “That’ll require a pack of men.” He rounded the corner on the far side and kept walking.

  “You know everyone.” Maddy dragged a chair between them.

  “That doesn’t mean I’d throw them to the wolves like that.” Being a wolf himself, Blue leaned on the desk and grinned. “You haven’t said good morning.”

  “Good morning?” She raised an eyebrow and whispered, “We said our good mornings earlier.”

  “Chicken.” Blue knew what he wanted to do – take her in his arms and kiss that dreamy smile back on her face, the one she’d given him all night long, the one that had kept him going through the morning. He’d love to pull her into his reclining office chair and remind her how good they were together.

 

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