Stray (16 page)

I walked into the clinic on Wednesday morning with a smile on my face, ignored Megan
’s knowing smirk, and went straight back to take care of Max. He jumped up from his resting place with a big doggie smile on his face and a wagging tail. His progress was remarkable; only a week and a half since his accident and he was getting around without any apparent trouble, though he kept his weight off the broken leg. After letting him out for his morning constitutional, I fed and brushed him, babbling about Jon in a low voice. I didn’t care if Max knew I’d had an amazing night, but Megan was another matter.

I was so focused on Max that I didn’t notice the front door opening, with its bell to signal that someone was here. The first I knew of it was when I heard raised voices. Someone, a woman, was giving Megan a hard time. After a few seconds of glee that she was getting back some of her attitude, I decided it wasn’t very professional of me to let my receptionist be spoken to that way, the shrill voice rising to a near shout. I put Max back in his kennel and went to Megan’s rescue.

In the office stood a woman who would have been quite beautiful, if her face hadn’t been twisted and red. She had a great figure, though she was short, maybe half a foot shorter than I was. She had taken time with her make-up, and her hair was perfectly coifed, though I didn’t think it was her natural shade. As I stepped in from the back, she turned to me and her eyes blazed.

“YOU!”

“What?” Startled, I backed up a half-step, then glanced at Megan. For once, the sullenness, smugness and every other -ness was gone from her face. Instead, she was white and clearly frightened. What was going on here? I echoed my thought with the question.

“You bitch, I’ll thank you to stay away from my man!” the woman screamed. I began to get the picture, and I’m sure I turned white, too.

“Your…”

“My man! Jon Miles. Stay away from him, or I’ll have you run out of town. In fact, you won’t be able to show your face in the whole state.”

I was shaking by the time she finished her threat. Jon, her man? He hadn’t broken up with her after all. The queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach gave way to rage, not at the harridan in front of me, but at the player who’d betrayed us both.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” she demanded.

“Nothing,” I replied, with as much ice as I could muster. “It seems we’ve both been played. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t touch
your
man with a ten-foot pole.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she screeched. Maybe I’d emphasized the word too much.

“Ms. Egren, if you want to discuss this further, please make an appointment with me outside working hours. I must ask you to leave, before patients begin to arrive. This altercation would disturb them.”

“Bitch,” she spat. But, she did leave, trying to slam the door behind her with little success, as it had a soft-close device.

“Megan, are you all right?”

“Jesus, that was one scary bi-otch,” she tried to joke. I could tell she was still rattled by the encounter, because her voice was shaking.

“Why don’t you go across the street and get us both a mocha latte,” I suggested. “Wait, let me get some money.”

“That’s okay, I’ll take it out of petty cash and you can pay it back.”

I gave a sigh of relief as she slipped outside, hoping our shared trauma would give her enough empathy toward me to at least get my coffee back here while it was still hot. I wished I had some brandy, or better yet, some Kahlua, to fortify it. Nothing like a crazy woman yelling at you to start the day.

~*~

If I had known then what the rest of the day would bring, I might have closed the clinic and run home to my mommy in Texas. But, for a while it seemed that everything would settle down. Megan did bring my coffee while it was hot, and we had a laugh about Ashleigh looking like Charlize Theron in that old movie, Monster. Then patients started trickling in and I got too busy to dwell on it.

In spite of telling Ashleigh that I wouldn’t touch Jon with a ten-foot pole, I wanted to hear his side of the story. After all, he did tell me she was having an issue with letting go. When I’d calmed down from her attack, it occurred to me that maybe I had been hasty to judge him. He was supposed to come by today, to see me primarily, though I was sure he’d want to see Max, too. Maybe if I told him calmly what had happened, he would be able to reassure me. I let the anger trickle away, aware that I was still swinging in the wind like that weathervane.

Lunchtime came, and I again sent Megan for her break first, hoping that Jon would show up and we could have a conversation over lunch instead of in the back of the clinic. Besides, I felt as if she’d taken one for the team, enduring Ashleigh’s attack without calling me until I came to her rescue. It was almost enough to make me feel benevolent toward her, at least until the next display of attitude. So far, she’d been good all day.

When Megan returned and I still hadn’t heard from Jon, I gave up and went across to Papa’s for a burrito. While I was there, I learned when I got back, Megan had been the one to field another visit from the resort people. She told me all about it, with an air of grievance that I hadn’t been there to hear it for myself. So much for camaraderie.

It seemed that Ashleigh Egren had an entourage of sorts. Megan said ‘one of her peeps’ had come in with the excuse of asking if we had any purebred Shih Tzu puppies for sale. It was clearly an excuse, because we didn’t sell dogs, certainly not puppies that might have come from a puppy mill. While here, the girl had taken pains to inform Megan that there was a big dinner party at the Egren’s on Friday, and that Jon was expected.

Megan, of course, couldn’t resist the urge to stir the pot, so she asked if Ashleigh was aware that Jon was cheating on her.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” was the answer. “I heard it from Mr. Egren himself. He said Jon told him he was spending a lot of time here, but it was all about the dog. Don’t worry, Jon and Ashleigh are solid. They’re probably going to get married.”

That’s the way Megan told it to me, anyway. I was too disheartened to scold her for listening to gossip again. From what I could gather, spreading the gossip was the primary reason for that visit. Even I would have listened.

As I went about my business for the rest of the day, I alternated between anger at Jon for treating women as items of convenience, anger at myself for falling for the good-looking but black-hearted son-of-a-bitch, and despair that I would never, ever again find someone who made me feel as he did. I was so distracted that I came close to administering the wrong vaccination to one of the dogs that was brought in for immunizations. Even worse, I let it slip to the owner that I’d almost made a mistake. As soon as she was gone, Megan appeared in the back, furious.

“I don’t care what’s going on with your love life,” she said, “but you can’t be moping around here like that. You’re going to ruin my dad’s practice. Bruno’s owner yelled at me because you almost made a bad mistake.”

“I’m sorry, Megan. I didn’t mean for that to happen. God knows you’ve had enough people yelling at you on my account today.”

Even my apology didn’t soften her expression, though. “I’m going to call my dad, I swear I will. This just isn’t working out.”

Even that threat didn’t break through my black mood. So what if she called her dad? Either he’d fire me or he wouldn’t. If he did, I could leave this godforsaken town and get away from the ever-present temptation of Jon Fucking Miles.

The end of office hours came without the promised visit from Jon. Typical, I thought. Makes promises he doesn’t intend to keep, sleeps around, hits innocent dogs because he’s a speed demon. Good riddance.

Megan went home, and I stayed to care for Max, the front door locked and dark falling in the mid-December late afternoon. As usual, I poured out my troubles to Max, who was the best listener I knew. When, I asked him, would I learn not to fall for the great-looking guys? Especially rich ones. They were nothing but trouble, couldn’t be faithful if it meant their lives. As usual, Max was all sympathy, and leaned into my hugs as if to hug me back.

‘It’ll be okay, Erin,’ his eyes seemed to say. If only I could keep him for my own! Stupid me, I had fallen for the dog, too, knowing I couldn’t have him. How could I have made such a mess of my life before I was even thirty? Would it ever be back to normal?

After settling Max for the night, I put on my coat, hat and gloves and headed for the front door. Jon was there, hunched against the cold. When he saw me, his face lit up, framed by the security lights outside. I no longer wanted to talk to him. I was weary of the back and forth pull of my logical self and the emotions that surged each time I saw him. Weary of the war within myself. I just wanted some peace.

“We’re closed,” I called. Hurt flooded his face, and he held up his hands in an attitude of prayer.

“Please?” he called, through the glass door. “What’s wrong?”

That was too much. “Ask your girlfriend,” I answered. Then I turned and went to the back, determined to wait him out.

I don’t know when he left, but he wasn’t there when I ventured back out half an hour later. It was telling, I thought, that he gave up so easily.

What the hell? Things were great, I thought, and now Erin wouldn
’t even come outside and talk to me? Was she mad because I hadn’t gone back to her last night, even though she said she didn’t want me to? Or maybe it was because I’d gotten there so late. I should’ve called and told her I was going to be late; I knew that bothered her. I turned away, searching my mind for a way to make it up to her.

I’d had a busier than expected day, and that was saying something. Final arrangements for the meeting on Friday took much of it, going to various law firms around town to pick up proxy papers, and then down to Boulder for the rest of them and for the lab appointment. I was going to follow through with Doc’s wish to know once and for all if I was his son. That was still feeling strange to me, almost as if I were walking beside myself, observing the fake me, the one that was named Jon Miles, when I was actually a McGraw. Or was I? I wanted to know as badly as Doc did, even though it would turn my whole world upside down.

I also wanted, badly, to talk to my mother. When Dad, or Theo Miles, whoever he was, couldn’t find Mom, he wrote her off and so did I. A twelve-year-old has enough to cope with, without having his mother just up and abandon him. I couldn’t fathom it. Oh, I mourned at first, almost as if she were dead. For a while I held out hope that she’d be back. After a couple of years, the grief turned to anger, and there it had stayed until indifference took over. Now, more than twenty years later, I found that I wanted answers. Why had she left? Why hadn’t she taken me with her? Why had she never come back?

I couldn’t afford these questions right now, so close to the culmination of my bid to take over the company from Egren. I couldn’t afford any distractions, in fact, not even Erin, but I couldn’t help it. So, I went to Boulder to have my blood drawn and a swab of my cheek cells taken. I didn’t know why they needed both, but I didn’t care, either, just that they could give us a definitive answer. Doc was supposed to send in his samples, too. Doing all that made me late to get to the clinic. I should have called her.

When I left, it was to get her more flowers, but the florist was closed. I considered showing up at her apartment empty-handed and begging forgiveness for whatever I’d done that made her not want to see me, but I was afraid she’d slam the door in my face. That would be too final. I couldn’t deal with it, not tonight. Without conscious decision, I found myself in the bar where Doc and I had talked last night, a double shot of my private bottle in front of me and gloom surrounding me. I didn’t want to get drunk, tomorrow was too important to be nursing a hangover. But I did want to take the edge off.

By the time I staggered out, forgetting I’d had no dinner, the edge was definitely rounded. I made my way to my suite and collapsed, full-dressed, on the bed. It would be two a.m. by the time I woke again to undress and crawl beneath the covers. I dreamed of Erin, something I’d done a lot lately. But this time, my dreams were bad. She was running away from me, and I couldn’t catch her. Or, I’d catch her and she’d turn and look at me with hatred. Why? What had I done? Eventually, the dreams faded and I slept, finally achieving some peace, for a few hours anyway.

The next morning, I blessed the gods of alcohol and hangovers that good, well-aged scotch didn’t produce the latter. I was functional, though there were bags under my eyes. A scalding shower completed my return to the living, and I called for breakfast, starving because I hadn’t eaten since noon the previous day.

Room service was a marvelous invention. Who wanted to face strangers at breakfast? Certainly not I. A server I knew from many previous sojourns at the resort greeted me cheerfully when he brought the cart.

“Is there anything else I can do for you Mr. Miles?” he asked.

“Yes, Kevin, if you would. Can you find out if Ms. Egren or her dad have been spotted at the resort? There’s a twenty in it for you if you talk to your co-workers.”

“No problem, sir, thank you. I’ll let you know.”

I gave him the twenty, certain he’d do his best. Today was the last day before the shareholder’s meeting. I had to check on the meeting room, the catering and the printed agenda, and I didn’t want to run into either of my least-favorite people while doing it. I’d kept the agenda top-secret, bribing the printer before anyone else could, to keep it especially out of the hands of Egren. The first order of business after reading the minutes of the last meeting was ‘Vote for New CEO’. I wanted to see Egren’s face when he read it, and understood who had put it there.

Also on my schedule for the day was Max’s physical therapy appointment. I could have delegated that, but the truth was, I enjoyed the dog’s company and looked forward to spending a bit more time with him on therapy days. Now and then I’d think about adopting him, and then I’d worry that I couldn’t spend enough time with him. Adopting a dog was a serious commitment, I knew. But this guy was a good dog, that was clear, too. According to Erin, it would be a couple of months before I’d have to decide, so each time the thought crossed my mind, I put it on the back burner. I had other stuff to deal with first.

There was a worry, though, that Erin’s reaction to me last night would carry over to today’s business. What had caused that? Would she tell me today, when I picked up Max? Should I try to take her to lunch first? I was still wondering about that when I went down to the bar to tell them to be sure and lay in a couple of bottles of my favorite for me. I’d come close to killing the open one last night, and I’d want to celebrate on Friday night if everything went as planned. It would be great to celebrate with Doc, in fact. I’d have to give him a call today to invite him.

There was a problem with the catering order for Friday, so I had to spend some time sorting that out. A visit to the printer confirmed that everything was perfect on the proof run of the agenda, so I gave the go-ahead to run one-hundred copies of it. We didn’t usually get that many in person to the shareholder meetings, but I anticipated a larger-than-usual crowd among those of the locals who knew what was afoot. I suspected they’d want to watch, even though many had turned their proxies over to me to vote. Doc had told me he planned to be there. Before I knew it, it was mid-afternoon, and I’d skipped lunch. At this rate, I was going to begin to lose weight, and I had none to lose. But, there was no time for it now, it was time to pick up Max.

The first inkling I had that Erin was seriously pissed at me was the fact that she wasn’t there when I got to the clinic. Only Megan, the snarky little teenager at the front desk, was there to greet me.

“Hi, Megan. Is Erin in?”

“No, she isn’t. But she said it was okay for you to take Max if you bothered to show up.”

So, it
was
about how late I was yesterday. Surprising. She hadn’t struck me as petty before.

“Will she be here to meet me when I get him back?”

“One of us will.”

Hmm. I couldn’t quite see Megan working overtime to meet me, but if she did, then I was in worse trouble than I thought.

“Okay, I’d better get him and go.” She let me go to the back by myself, and Max was as glad to see me as always. I took the time to let him outside before our long drive, and then took him out the front door on a leash I found hanging by his kennel. It was good to see him walking easily, though with a funny gait because he wasn’t putting one foot down. He jumped easily into my car and we headed down to Boulder.

“What’s Erin mad at me about, Max?” I asked. Max must not have liked my choice of conversational topic, because he yawned with a whine at the end and put his head down. I’d just have to bite the bullet and ask Erin when I saw her.

The trouble was, I didn’t see her. It was indeed Megan who greeted me again, albeit sullenly, when I got back to Sunshine with Max. By now it had been twenty-four hours since Erin refused to let me in, even longer since I’d held her in my arms. This wasn’t a temporary tiff—something was seriously wrong. With trepidation and against my better judgment, I asked Megan what it was.

“Oh, it probably had something to do with you fucking her while you’re engaged to Ashleigh Egren,” she said, trying hard for an offhand delivery and failing miserably.

“What? I’m not engaged to Ashleigh,” I said, gliding over the ‘fucking her’ remark as unworthy of my response. When had teenaged girls become as foul-mouthed as boys, anyway?

“Traci Evans says differently,” she returned.

“Who the hell is Traci Evans and why would her word be better than mine? I’m the guy that’s supposed to be engaged, here. Did she say that to Erin? Why?” The questions tumbled out, too fast for Megan to answer. I was frantic to straighten this out, but before I could, I had to know just what was going on.

“Don’t you know your fiancée’s friends? No, she didn’t say it to Erin, she said it to me, but I told Erin, because she needed to know.” The fake virtue made me sick. I’d seen the way this little troublemaker interacted with Erin, and there was nothing in it to make me believe that she would try to protect Erin. No, she’d told her out of pure spite and to make trouble between Erin and me. I wasn’t even sure anyone named Traci Evans had talked to her. Maybe she made it up herself.

 With effort, I restrained myself from throttling her. “Where’s Erin?” I demanded.

“I don’t know. At home, probably. She doesn’t want to see you,” she added.

“Never mind that. Listen, is this Traci person real? Because if I find out you made that up, I’ll make you sorry.” I had no idea what I could do to accomplish that goal, but accomplish it I would, if it was the last thing I did.

“She’s real. Why don’t you ask your fiancée?”

“Stop calling her that! It isn’t true, so quit repeating it or so help me…”

“So help you what? You’ll hurt me? Try it,” she said, taking a small object out of her drawer. “This is Mace, so go ahead, try to hurt me.”

Disgusted, I pushed past her with Max, whose head had sunk low with the tension and angry words. I settled him with food and fresh water, then left without speaking again to Megan. She had done enough damage, and I needed to get to Erin.