“My uncle says I made my own choices, and they were all bad. Not in trying to help Andie, but in understanding what I could and couldn’t do. Understanding when I needed help myself.”
“But I’m the one whose behavior put you in a position to have to make those choices that got you into trouble. And for that, I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “I know. We got your letter.”
“Well,” Audrey said. “Thanks for the ride. If you or Andie needs anything, I’m living right there, above the garage. You can come by anytime.”
Not that she thought he would. Still, she was here. She wasn’t leaving.
Jake got in the car and Audrey watched them drive off; then, with her leg muscles still cramped tight, she limped across the driveway toward her apartment.
Audrey was sitting under a tree in the front yard, studying the house, the placement of the big trees and shrubs, the existing planting beds, the fence to one side that belonged to the neighbors, thinking of what to do with what was already there and what to add to it, when her phone rang.
Tink roused himself from his spot sprawled out in the grass beside her, but only long enough to lift his head, see that it was nothing but her cell phone ringing, then gave a contented, tired groan and sank back down into the grass.
Audrey was still laughing at him for how tired and complacent he’d been today, since their run, when she picked up the phone and said, “Hello.”
“Don’t tell me you’re actually enjoying this job,” Simon Collier asked, with astonishment in his voice.
She felt a little tickle of something run through her.
Pleasure?
At the sound of his voice?
Surely not.
Please, not.
“Is it impossible for you to believe I could be enjoying myself?” she asked, hoping that little fizzle of something didn’t come through in her voice.
“I would think it’s at least highly improbable, given the tasks involved. Namely, dealing with a certain unruly creature,” he said.
“I was laughing at the dog,” she told him.
“That I can believe. I think it has the IQ of a shrub.”
No way Audrey was going to risk another conversation with him about the dog’s intelligence and their battle for control. She feared she’d come too close to insulting Simon on that topic already.
“I was laughing because he’s funny and because he’s been good all day,” she explained.
“Impossible. What did you do, drug him? Because I’ve heard there are vets who are willing to prescribe things like that, to certain highly troubled canines. I considered trying to find one.”
“Don’t you dare even think of drugging this dog,” she said, rolling her eyes, knowing he was baiting her and still rising to it.
“So, what kind of miracle did you perform to make him…good?”
“I took him for a run this morning and wore him out,” she said. “He’s been too tired to do much of anything since then.”
“I find that very difficult to believe,” Simon insisted, then was silent as Audrey heard an announcement of a plane boarding in the background. “That’s my flight. I’ll need to go. I just wanted to check in with you and make sure you didn’t hurt yourself. Or that the dog didn’t hurt you.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Ms. Bee said you could hardly walk this morning when you got back to the house after exercising him. That you had to get a ride back?”
“Oh, it was nothing. I got a little carried away, and we ran too far. But it was me, not Tink, who did it. I just had a cramp.”
“You’re sure. Because I won’t have that dog hurting anyone—”
So, he was worried about her? Or just looking for an excuse to get rid of the dog?
“Simon, he’s just a little rambunctious. That’s all. Not a bad dog. And he’s smart, but he’s not the one who knows how far I can run without cramping up or the one who should keep track of how far we’ve gone. I am.”
“All right. If you say so.”
“I do.”
“So, how’s my yard?”
“Tink and I are studying it as we speak. Or actually, he’s lying in the grass half asleep and I’m studying the yard. It looks as if the trees haven’t been trimmed in years—”
“You want to cut down those huge trees? I like my trees. Big, lush, green, remember? That’s what I want. Surely you can see that the trees are big, lush and green.”
“Yes, I see that. But they also have some dead branches in them, and some are dangling over the house. You would be greatly inconvenienced if one of those limbs fell through your roof one day.”
“All right. Yes. You’re right. Just don’t cut them down.”
“I just want them shaped up, like a pretty, big, frame of greenery around the house and the yard.”
“All right. Do it.”
“It means a lot of noise and disruption. Crew of workers, a big truck, limbs being cut and falling to the ground. Limbs being ground up into mulch.”
“Then have it done while I’m not there,” he said. “Just check with Ms. Bee. She always has my schedule.”
“All right,” she assured him.
“And take care of yourself,” he said, almost like he was concerned.
“I will.” Then, without really thinking, she added, “See you Friday.”
As if she was looking forward to it or something. Audrey winced.
He didn’t seem to pay any attention, just said goodbye and hung up.
He’d be home on Friday.
She would not look forward to it, and she would not care.
Simon got to the gate and found out that despite the announcement he’d heard only moments before, his plane was not boarding. How annoying.
Traveling had only gotten worse in the past few years, but this trip had seemed particularly irksome. Delay after delay. Frustration on top of frustration. He found himself just wanting to be at his own office in the city and at his own home, rather than forced to wait to be allowed to board a plane or to take off on a runway or to get into a hotel room.
His phone rang, and he looked at the Caller ID display.
Ms. Bee.
He clicked the phone to answer. “Yes, Ms. Bee.”
“Now she’s just sitting there in the grass in the front yard, staring at everything. Her and that animal.”
Simon wished he was there to see it, the dog miraculously still and quiet, lounging in the grass, and Audrey, probably sitting cross-legged in the shade of one of his enormous trees she planned to tame, bits of sunshine filtering through the new spring leaves. And Ms. Bee, spying on her through one of the front windows, a scowl on Ms. Bee’s face.
He had a feeling he’d enjoy the sight.
“What’s wrong with that? She’s not allowed to sit in the grass?”
“It’s just…odd. Did you ever find out exactly what she did to be taken in by that criminal-loving woman you like so much?”
“Criminal-loving?”