Wayworn Lovers

by Gun Brooke

  “I most certainly will.” The man pulled out his phone and scrolled down with a short, stubby index finger.

  “Something wrong? You’re pale.” Mike showed up with a shopping cart and two large sacks of dog food.

  “He’s just checking so I don’t rip him off. Or my employer,” Tierney said, trying to sound casual and facetious. “You know. I’m new at my job, and he’s got to make a living.”

  “Well, so do you, I would imagine.” Mike remained where she was.

  A rhythmic clicking sound approached from an aisle to their left, and then Vivian came into view. “I couldn’t help but hear the entire exchange, Tierney. I understand he needs to check, but he didn’t have to sound so condescending and downright suspicious.” Vivian clearly wasn’t impressed. “We know Giselle very well, and though I’m surprised Frances isn’t with her, I’m glad she found someone to help her in the meantime.”

  “I didn’t hear that part. Here he comes now. All smiles.”

  Thank God. Tierney saw the man hurry toward them, looking benevolent and service-minded now. Well, perhaps he was just a gruff sort of man who always sounded brusque when he talked to his customers.

  It took the manager ten minutes to stack the large amount of dog and cat food, kitty litter, and treats in her shopping cart. As she signed for the purchase, he offered to help her load it into the car. Perhaps it was his way of smoothing things over, but Mike, who had waited with Vivian until Tierney was done, interrupted.

  “I can help you, Tierney. No problem.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Tierney was strong, but it would go easier with Mike’s help. “I’ll help you with yours.”

  “Brilliant!” Mike grinned at her as they left the store.

  After placing their pet supplies in the respective cars, Vivian tugged Mike’s sleeve. “Give Tierney our card, darling.” She turned to Tierney. “Just in case you need something. We’re coming to Giselle’s on Sunday to listen to some of her work. It’ll be nice to get to know you better, dear.”

  Tierney clutched the card. “I’d like to get to know you too, but I won’t be there on Sunday. I’m a very temporary employee. Just for a day or two.” Furious at how her throat constricted, Tierney forced one of her broad and blinding smiles onto her lips. “After this job, I intend to try to find more dogs to walk in East Quay for as long as possible. Perhaps your dogs need walking?” She refused to sound pitiful and injected as much cheer in her voice as humanly possible.

  “A day or two?” Mike gaped. “But what will Giselle do after you move on? You can’t quit after two days.”

  “I think you misunderstand,” Vivian said quietly. “If I’m not mistaken, it’s Giselle who’s set the time—the far-too-short a time—for Tierney’s services.”

  “What—oh.” Mike tapped her chin with her fingertips. “Go figure. Stubborn as hell.”

  “As stubborn as she is ingenious.” Vivian extended her hand to Tierney and shook it in her usual firm way. “Don’t tell Giselle about this conversation. I plan to call her later today, and I’ll make sure she realizes how much she needs you. You’re young, much younger than Frances, but my radar tells me you’re a good person. I’m rarely wrong.”

  “She truly isn’t.” Mike shrugged. “So just hang in there and, in the meantime, try to make yourself indispensable. That is, if you truly want to stay on as Giselle’s assistant?”

  “I do,” Tierney said quickly. “But I’m more like her housekeeper.”

  “Nonsense,” Vivian said. “You’re replacing Frances, and she was her assistant.”

  “All right.” Tierney could smile easier now. “Thanks to the both of you. I’m so glad I ran into you.”

  “Literally, as it were,” Vivian said brightly. “So, if all goes well, we’ll see you Sunday.” She waved and climbed into the passenger seat. “I think I’ll let you drive this time, darling,” she said to Mike, who groaned at what must be a very old private joke between them.

  “Ha-ha. You kill me, Harding.” Mike rounded the car and waved at Tierney before she took the driver’s seat.

  Tierney did the same, and on the way back to Giselle’s place, she asked unnamed deities to let Vivian be successful. She truly didn’t want to be on the road again, but that wasn’t the most important part. Something about Giselle made Tierney want to really assist her in a meaningful way by training Giselle’s retriever to be a good, reliable kind of service dog. An emotional-support dog. Something told Tierney that Giselle needed exactly that.

  Chapter Four

  Giselle let her hands hover above the piano keys and listened for the Jeep to return. For all she knew, Tierney could have taken her car and kept driving. She sighed and wrote some notes on the music sheet. Tierney didn’t seem the type to scam someone, at least not by stealing a car. The pet-store manager had called half an hour ago, making sure what Tierney was buying was correct. Giselle had found his condescending tone infuriating and firmly told the man to charge it as usual.

  It was odd how Tierney seemed to switch between complete authenticity and that weird, bright smile she’d faked a few times. Thinking back, she realized it had happened when Tierney had tensed up. How could Giselle read this stranger like that? She was usually clueless and awkward in social settings, the very few she ended up in. Normally, her only visitors were clients for whom she composed. Some of them had become friends, but she could still slip into her role, feeling safe in her home and secure in knowing she was good at what she did. Social settings outside the house? Thinking back, Giselle knew very well when that had last happened. The restaurant catastrophe, when she had agreed to go on a date, of sorts, with Mary. Humiliation, still making her feel so raw, so exposed, even after several years, coursed through her. Slamming her fisted hands on the piano keys, she was glad the disharmonious tones broke her out of the downward spiral that would only lead to an anxiety attack.

  Giselle kept trying several melodies, attempting to capture the feeling of regret Chicory Ariose had requested. She had written six of the ten songs, which was a major deal since the all-female group normally improvised their special brand of music. These songs would eventually have words, which was another rarity for the group. They had collaborated with Noelle Laurent, the brightest star on the US music sky, a few times, and those songs had also had lyrics, all of them written by Noelle. Giselle didn’t know who would write the lyrics for these new melodies, but she hoped they would pick up on the nuances. She was known for subtle changes within her music, and not all people detected them.

  Humming the current melody, Giselle attempted to change the key, but it didn’t do very much for the song. She hadn’t wanted to go the usual route and write a sad melody in minor, but now she changed the chords that way, and the sound made her straighten her back. Perhaps this was supposed to be in a minor key, as clichéd as that would appear. Playing the two versions of the chorus over and over, Giselle was so caught up in her work, she barely glimpsed a car pass on the road.

  Eventually, she stopped playing and glanced out the window. The Jeep was back. Getting up, she debated whether to go find Tierney and make sure she’d bought the right food for her pets. Would that be micromanaging? Inwardly rolling her eyes at her indecisiveness and for debating if she should go wherever she wanted in her own house, she stepped out and headed for the kitchen.

  It was empty. She could hear sounds from the mudroom where she kept the dog food and had installed a dog shower. Poking her head through the door, she saw Tierney hauling the heavy sacks with a stubborn—and impressive—tenacity. She walked in. “I could have helped you. The bags are very heavy.”

  Tierney flinched and looked over her shoulder. Her long, red hair was damp at her temples, which made it curly, and she looked so damn attractive, Giselle just stared.

  “I’m nearly done. Just have to stack this one—oh, okay.” Tierney grinned at Giselle when she grabbed one end of the last dog-food sack and helped her swing it up on top of the pile. “That’ll keep your darlings
fed for months.” Tierney walked over to the stainless-steel sink and washed her hands.

  “The store manager was helpful then?” Giselle stood where she was, thinking she could wash her hands in her private bathroom upstairs.

  “Only after your call. That and how Vivian and Mike nailed him with their best glares. I don’t think I look enough the part of your housekeeper, or assistant, for the guy to take what I said at face value.” She jutted her hip out and crinkled her nose as she smiled. “Can’t say I blame him.”

  “Vivian and Mike? You ran into them at the pet store?” Giselle was certain she’d heard wrong.

  “I sure did. They were getting some special food for their dogs.”

  “I see.” Giselle really didn’t. How could Tierney already be on a first-name basis with two of the most famous daughters of East Quay? “All right. You can consider yourself off the clock until it’s time for dinner. If you get bored, you can walk Charley.”

  “I’m not easily bored, but a walk would be great. I’ll hop right to it. By the way, would you like to join us? You can see how I train Charley to walk nicely on the leash and other useful things.”

  Tierney stepped closer to Giselle, smelling sweet and fresh, with undertones of clean sweat. The combination was heady, and Giselle truly wanted to take a few steps back, but she didn’t, as that would have seemed too obvious…and too curious.

  “I can observe this activity within the grounds of my property,” Giselle said darkly. “I prefer it that way.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll just walk her to wear her out a bit. She’ll listen better when she’s not all jazzed up.”

  Tierney didn’t seem to think it strange that Giselle didn’t want to leave her home, even to go on a walk out here where nobody ever came unannounced. Well, except this odd young woman.

  “Fine. Come get me when you return. I’ll finish up some things in the music room in the meantime.”

  Annoyed with herself for explaining herself to Tierney, someone she paid to take care of her kitchen, her pets, and general things around the house, Giselle frowned as she stalked back to the music room. She really wanted to watch from the kitchen window when Tierney and her dog went on their exercise walk, but that was a ridiculous thought.

  Giselle had to force herself not to hammer at the piano keys as she played the last chorus. Her grand piano was priceless to her, such a beautiful-sounding instrument, and wonderful to look at as well. She couldn’t let herself be so frustrated that she attacked what she sometimes thought of as her one true love. Caressing the keys, she tried again, and this time the melody for the chorus sounded right. In fact, it sounded so good, felt so good, she lost herself in the work, inspired by the beauty of the tones ringing out in the soundproofed room.

  Time flew before she heard a gentle knock on the door. Having written down the last of the revised chorus on her music sheet, Giselle flinched and looked up. Tierney wouldn’t be able to hear her say “come in,” so she rose and opened the door. “What time is it?” she asked, knowing she sounded annoyed. But her tone didn’t seem to faze Tierney.

  “Ten past five. Want to come out into the garden to see what Charley learned while we were out?” She grinned—an authentic smile, Giselle noted—and motioned in the direction of the front door.

  “You were out for two hours?” Had Charley ever had a walk that long? The poor dog must be exhausted.

  “It’s lovely outside, and you have some great paths around here. I didn’t meet a single person, so I could walk Charley off-leash.” Tierney strolled ahead of Giselle out through the front door, and there sat Charley with her tail wagging up a storm, as usual. But she was sitting. Not jumping, frolicking, or chasing Mister until he ran up the closest maple.

  “Here’s your mom, Charley. Remember what we talked about?” Tierney was addressing the retriever as if she were a human. “Lie down.” Charley lay down, looking attentively at Tierney. Sure enough, Tierney produced a very small snack from a pouch attached to her belt. “Good girl. Now, sit up.” Charley complied. New treat.

  “She’ll grow fat,” Giselle said acerbically. “Retrievers put on weight easily.”

  “Not when the treats are this small and she gets proper walks where she can run around and work off that energy she has in spades.” She waved at Giselle. “Your turn.”

  “What? No. I’d rather just watch. This time.” Giselle felt clumsy and awkward, certain her dog wouldn’t obey her. Charley took Giselle’s commands as pure recommendations that she could choose to follow—or not.

  “Aw, come on. This is your dog. You’re the one she should want to please more than anyone else. Here, take a few treats, and make sure she knows you have them, but don’t offer any unless she does something you want. Like, if she comes up to you and sits down without bouncing around you like a crazy dog, she can have a treat and praise.”

  Cornered, Giselle pressed her lips together and approached Tierney and Charley. The latter stomped a little, but she was still sitting down. Had Tierney glued the foolish dog to the ground? Giselle accepted a few of the fragrant treats and merely looked dumbfounded at her dog. As if on cue, Charley stood and walked over to Giselle, stopped in front of her, and sat down. She waved her right paw in the air as if to say hi or do a high-five. She looked so adorable, Giselle had to give a faint smile and praise her. She offered her a miniscule treat, which made Charley give her a pleading look.

  “Tell her to do something. You know. Any basic command.” Tierney had taken a seat on one of the stone benches along the flagstone path.

  Giselle’s mind went blank for a moment, but then she said, “Come here.” She hoped she sounded as assertive as Tierney, or Charley would ignore her. She couldn’t even begin to count the times she’d chased the dog across the lawn, having to use a broom handle to herd the stubborn animal into the house in the late afternoon. Now, Charley cocked her head as if to judge Giselle’s sincerity. She stood and sniffed the air for a few moments, but then she rounded Giselle and sat down on her left side. When Giselle didn’t move for a few flabbergasted seconds, Charley gave a soft “moff” and looked pointedly at Giselle’s right hand.

  “Good girl,” Giselle said, having to clear her throat while she gave Charley two treats at the same time. This offering went down very well, and Charley licked her lips and then did what Giselle referred to as her retriever smile.

  “Why don’t you go to the end of the path, and we’ll try this again? Making her come to you on cue is the most important command. Sure, it’s fun to teach them to play dead, roll over, balance something on their noses. And there is a reason all that’s good for dogs. But this, coming to you on cue—priceless.”

  “Why are such circus tricks good for dogs?” Giselle thought they sounded like a frivolous waste of time.

  “Dogs need to work out problems to stimulate their brain. You know, the same reason we do Sudoku and crossword puzzles. Need to use the old gray matter.” Tierney came closer and scratched the back of Charley’s head in passing. “What do you do to keep your mind agile and in shape?” She gazed at Giselle in an interested way.

  “I write music.” She had no time for anything else, but of course, this young woman wouldn’t know what it took to give so much of yourself to your work.

  “That’s your job, though. How do you recharge your batteries?” Sitting down next to Charley, her arm around the panting dog, Tierney looked genuinely interested.

  Giselle wasn’t sure why she didn’t find the question as intrusive as she would have expected. Perhaps it was the clear, guileless look in Tierney’s eyes or the complete trust her dog showed the virtual stranger.

  “Hmm. Actually, I go for a drive.” Giselle’s cheeks warmed, but she had no idea why. “Alone,” she added quickly. “In the Jeep to my favorite spots in the countryside.”

  “Sounds like an enjoyable way to get a change of scenery. So, no walks?”

  “No. At least not outside my property.” Wanting to take the words back, Giselle closed her ha
nds into tight fists. “And you?” She wanted to shift the attention from herself back to Tierney.

  “I like to write. Poetry. Lyrics. And I enjoy singing.”

  “Really?” A suspicious thought seeped into Giselle’s mind. “Anything you’d like to share with me?” she asked, setting the trap she was certain Tierney would fall right into. “I mean, you’ve already made friends with Vivian and Mike today.”

  It was Tierney’s turn to blush. “You’re kidding, right? Nobody would want to hear something so amateurish. I do dream of becoming good at one point, but right now? I think not.” Laughing self-deprecatingly, Tierney ruffled Charley’s ears and stood. “I’m not here to score, Giselle,” she said seriously. “I’m here to help you in whatever capacity you need me. If you let me stay on a little longer than two days, I can train Charley to be much more useful to you than a snuggle bunny. She has the potential to become a great service dog.”

  Clearly Tierney saw right through her. She knew, or guessed, that Giselle had implied Tierney was out to exploit her presence among famous musicians. Giselle still wasn’t sure, but something about Tierney’s demeanor and voice spoke of her being truthful.

  “Fine,” Giselle heard herself say. “You can stay two weeks. By then I’ll know more about when Frances intends to return.” If ever.

  “Really? Great!” Tierney appeared on the brink of embracing Giselle, which would have been catastrophic. Nobody had hugged her in a very long time. Two outcomes could have resulted. Giselle groaned inwardly. Either she would have passed out or clung to Tierney in desperation, yearning for some human touch.

  “Two weeks. I won’t promise anything beyond that.”

  “That’s still awesome.” Tierney beamed. “I’ll work with Charley every day between chores. She’ll do great. Perhaps even Mister will pick up a few tricks.”

  “Dream on,” Giselle muttered, but she had to force herself not to reciprocate Tierney’s warm smile. She had to keep her distance, even if this young woman’s charisma was chipping away at her armor. That couldn’t happen, as it would only lead to heartache. Giselle’s solitude was her safety. Without it, if she let people in and allowed them to see her vulnerability, she would eventually have to accept their inevitable departure after witnessing constant anxiety attacks that always made her think she would actually die this time. What would she do then? She knew exactly what would happen. She would lock herself into her bedroom and curl up on the bed in the dark. That had happened after her parents died. And even if she had prevented such an attack from occurring for quite a while now, she could envision what it would be like if she lost someone she’d dared invite into her life. “Why don’t you get cleaned up and check out the freezer? I’ll…I’ll go back to work.”