“No. I graduated last year. BA in business,” she added, just to prove to him that he wasn’t the only person with an education.
He appeared mildly impressed. “And now?”
“I’m here visiting my old college roommate and her husband.” Laura couldn’t wait to tell Rose and Kenny all about Spencer “Too Smart for You” Hodkins. Of course, she’d leave out the part where the graduate student looked like a model for cologne.
“By yourself?” he asked.
“Yeah, why not?” Hopefully he wasn’t one of those sexist jerks who thought women shouldn’t travel alone.
“I mean, you don’t have a boyfriend or…”
Much to her annoyance, he blushed adorably.
“I’ve got Frank,” she said undauntedly.
They both glanced at her dog, who continued to eat without a thought in his head other than an appreciation of kibble. Frank would always be there and would never ask more of her than she was willing to give. Unlike David.
“Huh,” Spencer said. “Speaking of, would you mind putting him someplace so I can bring Mozart out for her dinner?”
Laura scowled. “Why can’t you go feed Mozart somewhere else?”
He gave a small, disbelieving laugh. “Miss Haley.” He closed the laptop. “This is an awkward situation for both of us. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” she answered because it was true.
“And the only way we’re going to get through this is if we treat each other with dignity and respect. Agreed?”
He had a point. “Agreed.”
“That includes respecting each other’s pets. Agreed?”
Jeez, he had to be logical about it. She tapped her hands on the counter and rose. “Fine. Come on, Frank. Let’s go.”
Fortunately, her dog had finished his dinner, and when she motioned for him to follow her, he obeyed. But she wouldn’t leave with her own tail between her legs.
“Thank you,” Spencer said.
“Oh,” she said breezily, “and if we don’t hear back from the company in an hour or so, you should probably start calling the hotels around town to find a room.” She strolled out of the living room, Frank on her heels.
“Good idea,” she heard Spencer say. Then, “Wait, what?”
He was after her in a moment, following her as she and Frank climbed the stairs.
“I’m sure there’s someplace you and Mozart can stay the night,” she said.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “Why am I the one who has to leave?”
Wasn’t it obvious? “Someone has to.”
They reached the landing and she headed toward her bedroom. The door was closed, which she didn’t remember doing. Maybe the wind had shut it.
“What are you doing?” he asked when she turned the doorknob.
“You told me to put my dog away.” They had just discussed this and he was acting totally weird. She pushed the door open.
“No, not in—”
Frank pushed past her and ran into the room, furiously barking.
“Frank!” Laura was shocked by her dog’s behavior—until she heard Mozart’s outraged yowl.
She caught a brief glimpse of smoke-colored fur disappearing under the bed. Frank crouched down and continued to bark at the cat.
In an instant, Laura and Spencer dropped to the floor, lying on their stomachs as they peered at the indignant cat.
“It’s okay, Mozart,” Spencer said in a soothing voice. “He’s not going to hurt you.”
“He doesn’t want to hurt her,” she said in a tight voice. “He just wants to play.”
“My cat doesn’t know that. Could you please just get your dog out of my room?”
If fire could have shot from her eyes, it surely would have at that moment. Furious, she got to her feet. “How is this your room?”
He also got to his feet, and she refused to be cowed by the fact that he was a full head taller than her. “I was here first.” He waved his hand toward a pile of suitcases so neatly stacked it could have rivaled the most skillfully engineered skyscraper. “See? My luggage.”
“Really? How about my luggage?” She pointed at her bags at the foot of the bed.
He blinked. “I thought that was laundry.”
Her big fabric duffel bag did mostly obscure the suitcase beneath it. But still...good grief, this guy really was the worst. There was no way she could talk any kind of sense into him, not when he was so pigheaded. “Come on, Frank.” She hooked her fingers into the dog’s collar and led him out the door. “Let’s go play with the squeaky squirrel.”
As she tugged Frank out into the hallway, she heard Spencer talking to Mozart. “Come on, Mozart,” he said in a calming voice. “It’s okay, kitty.”
She didn’t bother to hear the rest of it. Still holding on to Frank, she went down into the living room. She grabbed her dog’s favorite toy and used it to distract both Frank and herself. Fortunately, her pet didn’t have the best short-term memory because soon he was happily playing tug o’ war.
A laugh escaped her. No matter how rough things looked, she could always count on Frank to cheer her up. He entertained her so much she didn’t even glare at Spencer when he came back downstairs.
“This whole house mix-up thing doesn’t seem to be bothering you very much,” he said sourly.
She shrugged, glad that he couldn’t see how much he got under her skin. “Yeah, well, there’s nothing we can do about it right now. Que será, será.”
“Que será, será,” he said doubtfully.
“Whatever will be, will be.” She glanced at him. “Like the song. You know—”
“I know where it’s from,” he said in a snippy voice.
Her jaw firmed. “You don’t have to be rude.” She refused to look away or let him off the hook. He might be working toward a fancy graduate degree, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have some courtesy.
Finally, he nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s just, well, I like to plan. And I was planning to have some peace and quiet to get my work done.”
“This wasn’t exactly what I wanted when I rented the place, either,” she said, though she had to sympathize with his desire to focus. She needed some of that in her own life.
“You mean,” he said with a rueful smile, “when I rented the place.”
Oh, if he wanted to be charming… “Fine. You rented the place. I rented the place. So, what are we going to do about it?”
The front door opened and closed, and an attractive woman in her sixties stepped into the foyer. She was dressed in artfully stylish clothes and also wore an apologetic expression.
“Maybe I can help,” she said warmly.
Laura cautiously rose to her feet, alarmed by the presence of this stranger. She and Spencer faced the newcomer, almost as if they were a united front. “Hi,” she answered slowly. “Who are you?”
“I’m Ellen,” the woman explained. “Ellen Davis.” She spread her hands out. “I own the place.”
“Come in,” Laura said. Thank goodness someone was there to take care of the situation. She guided Ellen to the sofa,