he’d be running to her, instead.
Eli grabbed his bag once more and made his way to the gate. As Roxie continued to cry into the phone, he informed the airline that he had an emergency and would be returning to the main terminal to book a flight back to San Francisco.
He started walking, the phone to his ear.
“Everything is going to be all right, Roxie,” he told her. “I’ll be back by morning. We’ll figure this out together.”
“But … you mean you’re not leaving town?” She sounded incredulous. “You’re going to help me?”
“Yes. I’ll help you.”
What came next was clearly a stretch for Roxie. She’d become a little rusty at it, no doubt. But she managed to fix her mouth around those two little words and then say them out loud— to a man, no less. To Eli.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
Chapter 5
Roxanne sat at an outdoor table at the Starbucks on Diamond Heights, waiting for Eli Gallagher to show. Not that he was late. She was early. Roxie’s plan was to appear relaxed and businesslike from the get-go, so she’d given herself a little extra time to accomplish that. She wanted Eli Gallagher to come down the sidewalk and see her sitting with perfect posture, legs crossed casually, sipping on her café au lait with an air of dignified nonchalance.
To aid in this, she’d taken extra care with her appearance that morning, following a grooming routine much like the one she relied on back when she covered criminal courts for the Herald, back when she was forced to leave the house every day to do her job, back when her livelihood required regular, actual, face-to-face human contact. So that morning she’d applied a tasteful amount of makeup and straightened her long hair into a sleek but casual style. She’d chosen a pair of peep-toe heels, charcoal gray dress slacks with a scarf belt, and a tailored blouse in a pale lilac color. She wore modest silver hoops in her ears and an heirloom marcasite ring on her left hand.
The goal was get an immediate positive reaction from Eli. She wanted him to see her and say something to himself along the lines of, That woman sure has it together! She’d even settle for, She certainly looks sophisticated and lovely today.
Roxanne reached for her cardboard-wrapped coffee cup and took a large slurp. Ha! Who was she kidding? She’d be lucky if the guy didn’t stop dead in his tracks and then run away in horror. She knew better than to think that a little lip gloss and under-eye concealer would hide the fact that she hadn’t slept for two nights in a row. Instead of sleeping, she’d been crying and blowing her nose, eating caramel corn and cheese puffs while dividing her zombielike attention between a cable shopping network’s “Cavalcade of Beauty” clearance special and the 2,351 Google results that appeared when she typed the words “Eli Gallagher, dog whisperer” into her laptop.
How was she supposed to sleep? Lilith wasn’t with her. For the first time in nearly a year, Roxanne had been spending the night completely, utterly, and pathetically alone, all while her sweet girl was locked up in dog prison, unjustly accused. Sleep hadn’t even been an option.
Roxanne sighed deeply. She put down her cup. She could do this. She could deal with Gallagher. As much as it pained her, she would do whatever it took to save her dog. Whatever he said to do, she’d do it. She owed Lilith that.
Besides, Roxie Bloom had never been short on balls. She’d interviewed mass murderers on death row. She’d coaxed scoops out of the most uptight assistant DAs. She’d waited in parking garages at night to corner hesitant sources. She’d been on the scene for child pornography arrests, foiled bomb plots, and murder-suicide investigations. Surely, she could ask one measly cowboy for a hand with dog training!
All it would take was a little self-discipline. She would put aside her own anger and hurt and graciously accept Gallagher
Eli grabbed his bag once more and made his way to the gate. As Roxie continued to cry into the phone, he informed the airline that he had an emergency and would be returning to the main terminal to book a flight back to San Francisco.
He started walking, the phone to his ear.
“Everything is going to be all right, Roxie,” he told her. “I’ll be back by morning. We’ll figure this out together.”
“But … you mean you’re not leaving town?” She sounded incredulous. “You’re going to help me?”
“Yes. I’ll help you.”
What came next was clearly a stretch for Roxie. She’d become a little rusty at it, no doubt. But she managed to fix her mouth around those two little words and then say them out loud— to a man, no less. To Eli.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
Chapter 5
Roxanne sat at an outdoor table at the Starbucks on Diamond Heights, waiting for Eli Gallagher to show. Not that he was late. She was early. Roxie’s plan was to appear relaxed and businesslike from the get-go, so she’d given herself a little extra time to accomplish that. She wanted Eli Gallagher to come down the sidewalk and see her sitting with perfect posture, legs crossed casually, sipping on her café au lait with an air of dignified nonchalance.
To aid in this, she’d taken extra care with her appearance that morning, following a grooming routine much like the one she relied on back when she covered criminal courts for the Herald, back when she was forced to leave the house every day to do her job, back when her livelihood required regular, actual, face-to-face human contact. So that morning she’d applied a tasteful amount of makeup and straightened her long hair into a sleek but casual style. She’d chosen a pair of peep-toe heels, charcoal gray dress slacks with a scarf belt, and a tailored blouse in a pale lilac color. She wore modest silver hoops in her ears and an heirloom marcasite ring on her left hand.
The goal was get an immediate positive reaction from Eli. She wanted him to see her and say something to himself along the lines of, That woman sure has it together! She’d even settle for, She certainly looks sophisticated and lovely today.
Roxanne reached for her cardboard-wrapped coffee cup and took a large slurp. Ha! Who was she kidding? She’d be lucky if the guy didn’t stop dead in his tracks and then run away in horror. She knew better than to think that a little lip gloss and under-eye concealer would hide the fact that she hadn’t slept for two nights in a row. Instead of sleeping, she’d been crying and blowing her nose, eating caramel corn and cheese puffs while dividing her zombielike attention between a cable shopping network’s “Cavalcade of Beauty” clearance special and the 2,351 Google results that appeared when she typed the words “Eli Gallagher, dog whisperer” into her laptop.
How was she supposed to sleep? Lilith wasn’t with her. For the first time in nearly a year, Roxanne had been spending the night completely, utterly, and pathetically alone, all while her sweet girl was locked up in dog prison, unjustly accused. Sleep hadn’t even been an option.
Roxanne sighed deeply. She put down her cup. She could do this. She could deal with Gallagher. As much as it pained her, she would do whatever it took to save her dog. Whatever he said to do, she’d do it. She owed Lilith that.
Besides, Roxie Bloom had never been short on balls. She’d interviewed mass murderers on death row. She’d coaxed scoops out of the most uptight assistant DAs. She’d waited in parking garages at night to corner hesitant sources. She’d been on the scene for child pornography arrests, foiled bomb plots, and murder-suicide investigations. Surely, she could ask one measly cowboy for a hand with dog training!
All it would take was a little self-discipline. She would put aside her own anger and hurt and graciously accept Gallagher
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