“I guess she still doesn’t know who’s boss.”
“Oh, if you wanted to be boss, you chose the wrong breed. You’ll have to settle for administrative assistant.”
“Or mailroom boy.”
He followed her to the main trail, where they could walk side by side. The dogs stopped often to sniff out the new territory. It was busy, so they had to weave in and out of other people, giving Piper an excuse to watch the trail and keep her eyes averted from the temptation next to her. To forget about his glimmery eyes, and his adorable ruffled hair, and that one little dimple, not two, just one, and how could she have missed that before?
Not realizing she’d been staring at him, Piper tripped over a hump in the pavement and stumbled a few feet. After that, she kept her eyes straight ahead, reminding herself over and over again that this was an interview, not a date. Definitely, almost certainly, probably not. Right?
“So,” Aiden eventually said, “I wanted to spend a little time together today to make sure…”
“That I’m not a crazy person?” she offered.
He chuckled and ran a hand through his scruffy hair. “Well, I wasn’t going to put it quite that way. But yes. Before I hand over the keys to my home, it would be comforting to know you don’t have any psychotic tendencies.”
“Only when I don’t have access to my daily dose of chocolate.”
“Duly noted.”
They reached a large area where wood chips littered the ground. Piper stopped to set Colin free and Aiden did the same for Sophie. The off-leash area spanned about an acre in size, surrounded by leafy green trees and plenty of benches where many of the owners were happy to sit and enjoy the shade.
“Here.” Piper dug into her pocket and pulled out a gnarled tennis ball. “I thought our meeting could be both work and play.”
She tossed it to him and he caught it. “Oh, good. But just so you know, I’m not usually one to mix business with pleasure.”
Piper knew he meant it as a joke. It was a tennis ball, after all, but the words struck her as familiar. He’d said the same thing the day before in her taxi. She recalled the straight-faced businessman at the office, the formal handshakes, and now he was wearing a suit in a park—with a pocket square, she couldn’t help but notice.
Back when she’d helped her mother move to live near Ethan, they’d all gone to dinner together. He’d flashed his exclusive credit card, turning it in plain sight ten minutes before the bill came. Several times throughout the evening, he jingled his BMW keys with the big blue and white key chain in his hands when it was nowhere near. And while they were in the middle of dinner, he answered a call on his Bluetooth—still tucked in his ear—and began speaking loud enough so everyone could hear about his oh-so-important legal cases because he was such a big-time lawyer.
They were what he considered the badges of his new status, the things he thought made him better than where he came from—a farm in Oregon. It was a persona he wore, a mask of permanent fakeness, of empty gestures, leaving nothing but a hollow personality beneath it. Gone was the little boy she grew up with.
She appraised Aiden with a lingering look. “You know what they say, ‘All work and no play…’”
“Hmm, nope. Don’t think I ever heard that one,” he teased. “What do they say will happen?”
“Oh, something about kidney stones or blindness.”
“Well, in that case.” He whistled. “Sophie.”
Both dogs perked up. Aiden threw the ball in the air and caught it again, mesmerizing them. Hypnotized, they watched his arm draw back. The moment he released it, both Sophie and Colin took off like they were hot on the trail of a badger, their natural quarry.
Piper laughed, watching Colin fight Sophie for the toy like it was to the death. “Colin doesn’t understand the words ‘not your ball.’ Every ball is Colin’s ball. On the plus side, I’ve made lots of friends at
“Oh, if you wanted to be boss, you chose the wrong breed. You’ll have to settle for administrative assistant.”
“Or mailroom boy.”
He followed her to the main trail, where they could walk side by side. The dogs stopped often to sniff out the new territory. It was busy, so they had to weave in and out of other people, giving Piper an excuse to watch the trail and keep her eyes averted from the temptation next to her. To forget about his glimmery eyes, and his adorable ruffled hair, and that one little dimple, not two, just one, and how could she have missed that before?
Not realizing she’d been staring at him, Piper tripped over a hump in the pavement and stumbled a few feet. After that, she kept her eyes straight ahead, reminding herself over and over again that this was an interview, not a date. Definitely, almost certainly, probably not. Right?
“So,” Aiden eventually said, “I wanted to spend a little time together today to make sure…”
“That I’m not a crazy person?” she offered.
He chuckled and ran a hand through his scruffy hair. “Well, I wasn’t going to put it quite that way. But yes. Before I hand over the keys to my home, it would be comforting to know you don’t have any psychotic tendencies.”
“Only when I don’t have access to my daily dose of chocolate.”
“Duly noted.”
They reached a large area where wood chips littered the ground. Piper stopped to set Colin free and Aiden did the same for Sophie. The off-leash area spanned about an acre in size, surrounded by leafy green trees and plenty of benches where many of the owners were happy to sit and enjoy the shade.
“Here.” Piper dug into her pocket and pulled out a gnarled tennis ball. “I thought our meeting could be both work and play.”
She tossed it to him and he caught it. “Oh, good. But just so you know, I’m not usually one to mix business with pleasure.”
Piper knew he meant it as a joke. It was a tennis ball, after all, but the words struck her as familiar. He’d said the same thing the day before in her taxi. She recalled the straight-faced businessman at the office, the formal handshakes, and now he was wearing a suit in a park—with a pocket square, she couldn’t help but notice.
Back when she’d helped her mother move to live near Ethan, they’d all gone to dinner together. He’d flashed his exclusive credit card, turning it in plain sight ten minutes before the bill came. Several times throughout the evening, he jingled his BMW keys with the big blue and white key chain in his hands when it was nowhere near. And while they were in the middle of dinner, he answered a call on his Bluetooth—still tucked in his ear—and began speaking loud enough so everyone could hear about his oh-so-important legal cases because he was such a big-time lawyer.
They were what he considered the badges of his new status, the things he thought made him better than where he came from—a farm in Oregon. It was a persona he wore, a mask of permanent fakeness, of empty gestures, leaving nothing but a hollow personality beneath it. Gone was the little boy she grew up with.
She appraised Aiden with a lingering look. “You know what they say, ‘All work and no play…’”
“Hmm, nope. Don’t think I ever heard that one,” he teased. “What do they say will happen?”
“Oh, something about kidney stones or blindness.”
“Well, in that case.” He whistled. “Sophie.”
Both dogs perked up. Aiden threw the ball in the air and caught it again, mesmerizing them. Hypnotized, they watched his arm draw back. The moment he released it, both Sophie and Colin took off like they were hot on the trail of a badger, their natural quarry.
Piper laughed, watching Colin fight Sophie for the toy like it was to the death. “Colin doesn’t understand the words ‘not your ball.’ Every ball is Colin’s ball. On the plus side, I’ve made lots of friends at
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