The Pet Stylist and the Playboy Read online

  He picked up my bags. “Come on. I’m driving you.”

  “I thought I was taking a cab—”

  “I canceled it.”

  Surprised, I watched Dante arrange my bags in the back of the MC’s SUV. Down the street, the sound of rattling trash cans was followed by shouting in Spanish. The neighborhood was never quiet. Dante held up my small, blue suitcase with the lock on it, and my stomach tightened.

  “I forgot about this. You had it when I brought you here.”

  “It’s just some old things I couldn’t let go of,” I said. “Kept it under the bed. Look, you can call me a cab. Don’t you have to be at work?”

  Dante closed the rear door and looked at me. “I quit my job. It was time to move on.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Are you ever going to stay at one place longer than a few months?”

  “Eventually.”

  I wasn’t sure why Dante did what he did—worked at car washes and gas stations when he had a college education under his belt—but I suspected it had something to do with his parents. I’d say he wasn’t close to them, yet he talked to either his father or his mother on the phone every couple of weeks. It kind of hurt that, as close as we’d become, he’d never told me much about himself. Of course, he could say the same thing about me.

  I climbed into the passenger seat and turned to take a last look at the clubhouse as Dante pulled out of the driveway.

  “Stop looking like you’re never gonna see the place again,” Dante said. “You’ll be back.”

  “You never know,” I said.

  Dante frowned and adjusted the radio. I sank back in my seat.

  Gus lived in a small rural town about twenty-five miles Northeast of Manhattan. I had to admit I was excited about getting away from the tall, suffocating buildings. I’d spent my entire life inside New York City, and leaving it was like stepping out of one world into another.

  Acres of green land, trees, hills, wildflowers alongside the road, and sky for as far as the eye could see.

  “Stop the car!” I said suddenly, grappling with my seatbelt while Dante pulled off the road with a string of curses.

  He turned to me, eyes wide with alarm. “What? What is it?”

  But I was already climbing out the passenger door.

  “What the fuck?” Dante slid out my side of the car to avoid the cars speeding by on the interstate and stood beside me where I looked up into the wide, blue sky.

  I pointed at the flock of birds I’d spotted flying in V formation. “What are they? And don’t say ‘birds.’”

  The closer they came to flying directly over us, I could hear honking noises over the rush of passing cars.

  Dante let out an exasperated grunt. “They’re geese, cheese-head. Haven’t you ever seen any?”

  I took my eyes off the birds long enough to glance at him. “If I had, would I be putting up with your crap?”

  “Christ, I’m sure some have flown over the clubhouse before.”

  If they had, I’d never seen them. Shading my eyes, I gazed upward. One bird was the leader—the point of the arrow—and the rest spread out to each side of him.

  “I wonder why they fly like that.” I could see their long necks. I wished one would land so I could really get a look at it.

  “Cuts down on wind resistance. They take turns flying in the front. That way, they can travel for longer periods of time.”

  I studied the birds, thinking about how they all worked together to what was best for the flock.

  “What do you think would happen if one got left behind? Would the others would come back for him?” Thinking that could happen made me sad.

  “Shit, I don’t know. Who are you, Holden Caulfield?”

  I looked at him. “Who?”

  “It’s a character in a book. He was always asking where the ducks go in winter.”

  “Oh.” Dante knew a heck of a lot more about—well, everything—than I did. “Why’d he do that?”

  Dante shoved his hands in his pockets and squinted up at the sky where the birds were now fading into the distance. “I don’t know. I think he was depressed or something.”

  I glanced up. “So, you don’t know? If they’d come back for one of their flock?”

  When I looked at Dante again, his eyes were on me and their color gave the sky a run for its money. “Yeah, they’d come back,” he said seriously.

  “Really? You’re not just saying that?” It bothered me to think of one of the geese left all on its own without the others in the group to fly with. Nobody should be all alone. Not when they belonged somewhere.

  “Nah, I think I read it once.”

  The flock got smaller and smaller until I couldn’t see them anymore.

  Dante rested his palm on the back of my neck. “Come on, goober. Let’s get off the side of the road.”

  This time, Dante walked around the vehicle to slide into the driver’s seat. I climbed in, and ten minutes later, we pulled up a tree-lined drive.

  “Oh, my God,” I breathed. “Look at it.” Besides all the trees and green, a lake with a small dock took up a large portion of the property. Or maybe it was a pond. I’d never known the difference.

  Dante pulled the SUV to a stop in front of the white colonial house and shut off the engine.

  As we climbed out, a noise like none I’d ever heard before sent a shiver down my back.

  “What the fuck is that?” I whispered to Dante, looking around the property.

  “I think it’s a peacock,” Dante said, but before I could ask him why the hell they made that noise, the front door of the colonial opened, and Gus stepped out. He leaned on a cane, and I hurried to help him down the steps.

  Gus chuckled. “Thank you, my boy. My arthritis’ been giving me trouble. And who’s this? Dante, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir.” Dante shook Gus’s hand, and I watched him transform from rough biker to elite socialite right before my eyes. He stood straighter and lost the tough look he carried with him. He even spoke differently. Right then I could easily picture him sitting around a country club pool, holding a glass of champagne and discussing polo or some other rich guy shit.

  I realized Gus and Dante were looking at me.

  “What? Sorry, I zoned out.”

  Gus smiled, white hair rippling in the morning breeze. “I asked if you wanted to see the shelter or if you’d like to come inside for something to drink first.”

  “I’m eager to see the shelter,” I said, bouncing on the balls of my feet in excitement. Dante got my bags from the car and handed me my backpack. I put it on and carried the small blue suitcase while Dante got the larger bag. Gus led us around the house and down a sloping embankment. I hovered at the old man’s elbow, afraid he’d fall. How had he managed on his own?

  The day was chilly, crisp air biting at my cheeks, but all around us, spring was beginning to make an appearance. Gus’s property was surrounded by hedges that had begun busting out of formation over the years like dough from a biscuit can. Some were laced with yellow flowers, and here and there patches of crocuses poked their purple heads through the earth. Song birds fussed in the trees overhead and only the faintest sound of distant traffic marred the idyllic scene.

  “Used to be a showplace,” Gus said. “When my son died a couple years ago, I didn’t have anyone to tend to it. Landscapers are too expensive. I need my money for the animals.”

  I thought it looked like heaven. As we skirted the lake, I stared at a couple of ducks swimming across the water with a line of ducklings behind them. I wanted to stop and watch but was too embarrassed. I couldn’t blame that book character Dante had mentioned for wondering what happened to the ducks in the winter. I knew they flew south, but if I hadn’t, I’d be worried about them, too. How naive and silly Dante must think I was.

  Walking at a slow pace for Gus’s comfort, we approached a small, two-story house near the edge of the woods. It had to be the shelter, and my stomach fluttered at the sight of my new home, one I had every
right to because I’d be working for my keep. Gus owned a lot of acres, most of it wooded. The shelter was a straight walk of about half a mile from the main house and within sight of the sparkling lake. The driveway circled around from one house to the other before meeting in a loop and disappearing among the trees toward the main road.

  When Gus pointed at something with his cane, I looked at it for the first time. “Oh, my God...is that?” I pointed to the long, black stick with the silver snake head at the top with the jeweled eyes and open mouth. “Is that Lucius Malfoy’s walking stick?”

  Gus looked down at it. “Who?”

  “The guy from Harry Potter,” I said. “That’s the cane he carried.”

  Gus chuckled. “Is it? I saw it on the internet and thought it looked interesting, so I ordered it.”

  “That is so cool,” I said.

  Dante nudged me as we continued walking. “You’re a Harry Potter fan? Since when?”

  I blushed. “I might have read a couple of the books years ago.”

  “You never mentioned it.”

  I shrugged, embarrassed. I’d read the entire series more than once when I was twelve and had lived within walking distance of a library. I’d always wanted to own it. I could feel Dante’s eyes on me and wondered what he was thinking. Did it even matter? I wouldn’t be seeing much of Dante anymore. If at all.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Dante

  Gus indicated a small concrete building not too far from the shelter. “I keep the bigger dogs in the kennels. When I first started taking in animals, I tried turning away the larger breeds, but I found I just couldn’t do it.”

  As we got closer to the small porch, a cacophony of barking and yapping started up from inside.

  “They’re excited to have visitors,” Gus said. “The little girl who lives down the street has been here to walk them and give them breakfast.” He chuckled. “I say little, but Deirdre’s nineteen.” He unlocked the door and escorted us inside. Swish and I set down his bags in the hall.

  The foyer opened into a sparsely-furnished living room. A scarred desk sat in the corner with a laptop opened on it. Heavy beige draperies had been pushed back from the large front window so that sunlight shone in over the scuffed hardwood floors and colorful rag rugs of various sizes. A fat orange cat sprawled on the back of the couch, unaffected by the dogs that scrabbled and barked on the other side of a baby gate.

  “Quiet!” Gus admonished the dogs, not unkindly. “This is Marmalade,” he told us, petting the big cat, which purred at the attention, looking like it might fall off the back of the couch any second. Swish began cooing at the feline and telling it how handsome it was. I watched, amused at how excited Swish was. The look he’d gotten on his face when he’d stood at the side of the road and watched those geese had been unreal. Made me feel like I never noticed anything anymore. I’d certainly noticed him at that moment. Sometimes I wondered if he’d never gotten to see anything in his life, and I wondered why. I knew Swish had been homeless when I’d met him, but that was all I knew. He kept things to himself, and I got the feeling he was a little ashamed about his past, which was why I’d never pushed him for information. I was a little sad I’d probably never learn those things.

  As soon as Gus opened the baby gate, the dogs were all over us. All medium to small in size, they wagged their tails so hard their butts moved from side to side. One little wiener mix held back, and I crouched in front of it, letting it smell my hand and get used to me, like Swish had taught me to do when he’d first started taking in animals to groom. I’d never had a pet. My parents would have rather died than let an animal into their pristine house.

  “That’s Bella,” Gus said. “She’s a little shy.”

  “Hi, Bella,” I said softly.

  Bella wagged her tail, and I stroked her head and down her long back. She licked the fingers of my other hand that dangled between my knees. It was embarrassing how much that pleased me. I looked over my shoulder and caught Swish’s dark eyes watching me.

  Gus was on the move again, and I was disappointed when Swish broke eye contact to turn and follow the old man.

  “Kitchen’s through there, as well as a bathroom. That’s the door to the basement.” Gus pointed his walking stick down the hall. “I store donated food and other stuff down there. If you ever need an extra dog bed or crate, that’s where to look.”

  He walked on and indicated another door, this one narrower. “Closet’s full of soft blankets and rags and towels. Also cleaning supplies,” Gus continued speaking. “I made the sun porch into a cat room. They like it in there, and it keeps them away from the dogs.” Gus’s voice got fainter as he led us down the hall.

  “What about Marmalade?” Swish asked.

  “He’s the exception. Thinks he’s a dog, that one.”

  The place seemed nice, and Gus was a great guy who seemed to be fond of Swish. My heart hurt, but I told myself to stop being selfish. I had no doubt this was a positive move for Swish.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out. I grimaced when I saw the name on the screen. Gayle. When I was a teenager, my mother had informed me that having a son my age made her seem old, and I was to call her by her first name from then on.

  I walked toward the front door and stepped out onto the porch to answer.

  “Dante, why don’t you ever pick up your phone?” Gayle sounded annoyed.

  “I’ve been working a lot.” I’d been ignoring her calls.

  “At one of the menial jobs you insist on performing, no doubt. You’re going to have to have a spa treatment before your birthday party just to look presentable.”

  “That’s not until September.” The last thing I wanted to do was think about turning thirty, and not for the usual reasons. Turning thirty meant the end of my freedom.

  “I want you to come for dinner next Sunday.”

  “Why? I mean, why next Sunday?”

  “We’re having friends over, and I’d like for them to meet you.”

  I tried to think of an excuse, but nothing came to me.

  “All right.”

  “Five-thirty sharp, Dante. Do not embarrass us. See you then.”

  She hung up, and I dropped my arm to my side. Looking out over the property, I wished I could stay there with Swish and watch him with the animals.

  The door opened, and Gus stepped out onto the porch.

  “Swish is looking around upstairs.” He stood looking out over the property. “It’s a beautiful day.”

  “I was just admiring the view.”

  A sprinkling of pine needles and leaves fell from the roof as a squirrel scampered across the eaves. Gus stepped onto the grass and gazed up. “I’m going to have to call someone to clean out these gutters.”

  I kicked at a loose board with my boot. Without taking time to think through whether or not it was a good idea, I said, “You in need of a handyman?”

  “That’s an understatement. Know one?”

  “I’m between jobs at the moment, and I enjoy working with my hands.”

  “Wonderful! When can you start?”

  “Whenever you want me to, sir.”

  “Is tomorrow too soon? And no need to call me sir. Just Gus will be fine.”

  “Tomorrow’s good.” I glanced over my shoulder at the house. “Listen, I have a few things I need to do this afternoon. Can you tell Swish I had to head out? I’ll be here bright and early in the morning to get started.”

  “I’ll leave a list in the shed by my house. The thing’s full of tools. You should have everything you need.”

  I nodded and strode toward the house and the SUV. Kind of a shit move, not saying goodbye to Swish, but I’d be back the next day. Talking to my mother had me agitated. The last thing I wanted to do was have dinner with my parents and their friends. The thought made my stomach tighten into a hard ball.

  Driving back to the city, I wondered if I’d done the wrong thing offering to work at Gus’s. I really did want to keep in touch wit
h Swish, but didn’t he deserve some time to settle in on his own? Again, I was being selfish. I knew soon my time wouldn’t be my own, and I wanted to be near him until that happened.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Swish

  The house was old, but that lent to its charm, in my opinion. My bedroom was larger than any I’d ever had and sported a queen-sized bed.

  “Perfect for this queen,” I said to myself with a smile. The bedroom window looked out over the lake. A small hall bathroom housed a shower stall with a seat built into it. No tub, but I never took baths anyway. Downstairs, a utility room with a large stainless-steel sink and table would work nicely for my grooming business. I’d notified all my clients I was moving, but knew I’d lose some due to the distance. I would build up a clientele in Henry eventually, though.

  I didn’t look forward to saying a final goodbye to Dante. Who knew when I’d see him again? I doubted I’d go back to the clubhouse. I needed to accept that our paths diverged from here.

  Taking a deep breath, I walked down the narrow staircase. The dogs started up again.

  “It’s just me,” I said calmly. “Everything’s okay.”

  They settled down and followed me, toenails clicking on the floor. Gus walked in the front door.

  “Look all right?”

  “It looks great,” I said. “Thank you again for giving me this opportunity.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad to have someone I trust here to do the things I’m having a hard time doing myself these days.”

  I looked around. “Where’s Dante?”

  “He left. Said to tell you ‘bye.”

  Gus’s phone rang, and he excused himself to answer it.

  I watched him walk slowly toward the back of the house, leaning on his cane more than he had on the way there.

  Dante had left without saying goodbye?

  Tears pricked my eyes, and I wrapped my arms around my middle, reminding myself I was used to being thrown aside. But somehow it hurt way more coming from Dante.

  One of the dogs, some kind of hound mix, ambled up to me and sniffed my leg. The others were lying about on the rugs, enjoying the sunlight from the window. I wondered if they didn’t usually get to roam this room, since it had been gated off when we’d arrived. Or maybe Gus just kept them out of it when nobody was there.