the commercial one. He parked and took the stairs to her unit. He smiled at the little touches she’d added to make the place homey. A welcome mat, preprinted with doggy footprints, that said “Wipe Your Paws!” and two large potted plants. She’d hung a plaid wreath on the door.
A volley of high-pitched barks sounded when he knocked. Mia’s face appeared in the crack. “Hey—hold on.” She reached down and scooped up a squiggly, furry something in her arms. She let Blaine inside. A tiny dachshund squirmed in her arms.
“Sausage dog,” said Blaine. The little black and tan creature went crazy when he touched her head. Between her wagging tail and her flapping tongue Blaine wondered if she would crack from excitement.
“This is Perdita,” said Mia. Her tongue rolled on the R , in tribute to her Cuban heritage. Blaine found it absurdly sexy.
“She’s almost as cute as her mum,” he said.
She smiled. “Can you hold her while I get my stuff?” Before Blaine could answer, Mia dropped the squirmy little dog in his arms. He held Perdita before his eyes. She wiggled in an attempt to get close enough to lick his nose. He finally relented. Perdita collapsed into his hands, a warm quivering bundle, as if she could rest now that she’d given him a kiss.
He watched Mia circle the apartment, grabbing her purse and a couple of water bottles and the dog’s leash. Perdita panted in his arms. Mia clipped the leash on the dog’s collar. She took Perdita from Blaine and set her on the floor. She shook and took off out the door. Blaine laughed as Mia’s arm was nearly jerked from its socket.
“She’s excited!” he said.
“She loves to walk around the lake,” Mia replied. They followed the panting, straining sausage dog down the steps. “You want to walk her?”
Blaine grimaced. “I think I’ll lose my man card walking that foo-foo doggie.”
Mia punched his arm. “You have to be really secure in yourself to walk a foo-foo dog.”
Blaine grabbed the leash. “No one has ever accused me of being insecure.” He skipped a few steps. Perdita yipped and jumped around his ankles. He tripped, almost falling on his face and squashing the dog.
Mia doubled over in laughter. “Please—please don’t step on my dog. Or skip on her.”
The sound of her laughter delighted Blaine, and it obviously delighted Perdita. She leaped against her mistress’ bare legs. “Okay—okay,” said Mia. “Go on now.” She smiled up at Blaine. “She’ll calm down in a few minutes. We might have to carry her home.”
Blaine took Mia’s hand. “You might have to carry me home if I fall on my arse.” His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, saw Candice’s name, and stuck it back in his shorts.
“Who’s Candice?” Mia asked.
Blaine took a deep breath. A pleasant breeze blew around the lake, but what he had to say made the air taste stale. “My ex-wife. My second ex-wife.”
“Oh,” said Mia. “Do you have children together?”
“No, thank goodness.”
“And you’re officially divorced? Not separated?”
Blaine nodded. He knew what was coming, so he went ahead and answered. “There’s not really any reason for her to call me anymore, but she does. I usually ignore her.”
“Usually?”
Blaine wished he could erase question marks from the English language, but that didn’t seem to be a possibility. Besides, he’d decided he was going to let this woman in, so uncomfortable as it was, he had to open the door. “When we separated, she got a good bit of money from me, obviously. Most people would have been set up for life with that money. She screwed it all up. She bought this huge house.”
“How huge?” asked Mia. “Like, Jennifer Anniston huge?”
Blaine nodded. “She was never good at managing money. The house, all the furniture. Then just her day-to-day living. Traveling and clothes and spas. Not just for her, for her parents and
A volley of high-pitched barks sounded when he knocked. Mia’s face appeared in the crack. “Hey—hold on.” She reached down and scooped up a squiggly, furry something in her arms. She let Blaine inside. A tiny dachshund squirmed in her arms.
“Sausage dog,” said Blaine. The little black and tan creature went crazy when he touched her head. Between her wagging tail and her flapping tongue Blaine wondered if she would crack from excitement.
“This is Perdita,” said Mia. Her tongue rolled on the R , in tribute to her Cuban heritage. Blaine found it absurdly sexy.
“She’s almost as cute as her mum,” he said.
She smiled. “Can you hold her while I get my stuff?” Before Blaine could answer, Mia dropped the squirmy little dog in his arms. He held Perdita before his eyes. She wiggled in an attempt to get close enough to lick his nose. He finally relented. Perdita collapsed into his hands, a warm quivering bundle, as if she could rest now that she’d given him a kiss.
He watched Mia circle the apartment, grabbing her purse and a couple of water bottles and the dog’s leash. Perdita panted in his arms. Mia clipped the leash on the dog’s collar. She took Perdita from Blaine and set her on the floor. She shook and took off out the door. Blaine laughed as Mia’s arm was nearly jerked from its socket.
“She’s excited!” he said.
“She loves to walk around the lake,” Mia replied. They followed the panting, straining sausage dog down the steps. “You want to walk her?”
Blaine grimaced. “I think I’ll lose my man card walking that foo-foo doggie.”
Mia punched his arm. “You have to be really secure in yourself to walk a foo-foo dog.”
Blaine grabbed the leash. “No one has ever accused me of being insecure.” He skipped a few steps. Perdita yipped and jumped around his ankles. He tripped, almost falling on his face and squashing the dog.
Mia doubled over in laughter. “Please—please don’t step on my dog. Or skip on her.”
The sound of her laughter delighted Blaine, and it obviously delighted Perdita. She leaped against her mistress’ bare legs. “Okay—okay,” said Mia. “Go on now.” She smiled up at Blaine. “She’ll calm down in a few minutes. We might have to carry her home.”
Blaine took Mia’s hand. “You might have to carry me home if I fall on my arse.” His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, saw Candice’s name, and stuck it back in his shorts.
“Who’s Candice?” Mia asked.
Blaine took a deep breath. A pleasant breeze blew around the lake, but what he had to say made the air taste stale. “My ex-wife. My second ex-wife.”
“Oh,” said Mia. “Do you have children together?”
“No, thank goodness.”
“And you’re officially divorced? Not separated?”
Blaine nodded. He knew what was coming, so he went ahead and answered. “There’s not really any reason for her to call me anymore, but she does. I usually ignore her.”
“Usually?”
Blaine wished he could erase question marks from the English language, but that didn’t seem to be a possibility. Besides, he’d decided he was going to let this woman in, so uncomfortable as it was, he had to open the door. “When we separated, she got a good bit of money from me, obviously. Most people would have been set up for life with that money. She screwed it all up. She bought this huge house.”
“How huge?” asked Mia. “Like, Jennifer Anniston huge?”
Blaine nodded. “She was never good at managing money. The house, all the furniture. Then just her day-to-day living. Traveling and clothes and spas. Not just for her, for her parents and
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