Chapter 5
Lanie
It figured that the universe sent me the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen on a day I was dressed like a toddler and covered in dog hair.
I watched the woman stride away from me, her slim hips swaying gently from side to side.
There was something about her. She looked like a villain in a movie with her white blonde hair, pale skin, and icy blue eyes.
Dressed head to toe in designer workout gear – all black of course -- she was clearly out of my league.
And not all impressed with me or my furry charge.
“You made a bad impression, Arthur,” I chided.
He gave me such a soulful look in response, I couldn’t help but scratch between his ears.
The Irish Wolfhound puppy was a handsome dog, if a little ill-behaved.
My best friend Amy and her husband had just adopted him last week, figuring they’d spend the Christmas holiday getting Arthur acclimated and trained.
Unfortunately, Amy’s grandma had a stroke yesterday, and she and John had flown back to Boston to take care of her.
So now I was staying in their fancy schmancy condo with their new dog, all alone for Christmas.
Normally I would have picked up a pet sitting gig for the holidays to make a few bucks and gone to my parents’ for dinner and presents with the family.
But this year my family had gone on a cruise for the holidays.
I couldn’t afford to join them – not on my meager social worker salary -- so I’d begged off.
Amy had insisted that I come stay with her and John, so I hadn’t taken any pet sitting jobs, planning to hunker down with my bestie and her husband for the week.
I wasn’t sure what Amy felt worse about: leaving me alone for Christmas or saddling me with her untrained rescue dog.
Arthur and I made our way up the block, stopping multiple times to sniff or pee on something. Arthur, not me. By the time I corralled him into the elevator and up to Amy’s condo, I was exhausted.
I got the dog some water, then looked around the condo, amazed at how nice it was. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows they had a bird’s eye view of the city. Everything looked so pretty and peaceful from up here.
Amy and I were best friends and roommates since college.
She’d only moved out after the wedding a couple of months ago.
Her husband was a corporate attorney, and this place was a considerable step up from our crowded apartment across town.
They lived in one of the most expensive condo buildings in downtown Seattle, with Amy and John living in one of two penthouse units on the top floor.
I wasn’t sure who lived in the other one, but Amy mentioned that she’d never met the person.
My phone beeped, pulling me out of my reverie.
Amy: How’s my baby?
Lanie: I thought John was with you.
Amy: Haha.
Lanie: He’s a furry terror. I took him for a really long walk but then he wrapped us around a post somehow and head-butted some woman’s shins as she was walking out of Morning Jolt. I was shocked that he didn’t knock her over.
Amy: OMG. Was anyone hurt?
Lanie: She lost her coffee, but that was the worst of it.
Amy: That sounds like the set-up for a meet-cute in a romcom.
Lanie: Yeah. She was beautiful, whoever she was, but she was kind of grumpy. She looked at me like I was something gross she’d found on the bottom of her shoe.
Amy: Ugh that’s the worst. What are you going to do now?
Lanie: Besides listening to your dog snore and fart? I’ll probably do some baking. I’m in the mood for cookies. Plus I found a good recipe for homemade dog biscuits I wanted to try.
Amy: Thanks again for helping with Arthur. There was no way I could have gotten him a boarding slot, not this close to Christmas. Plus I didn’t want him to think we’d adopted him and then abandoned him again.
Lanie: It’s all good, especially since I didn’t take any other jobs. Arthur and I are getting along fine, and I’m determined to teach him how to sit on command by the time you get back.
Amy: You’re such a good friend.
Lanie: I know, LOL. But enough about me, how is Grandma Allen?
After finishing my chat with my bestie, I opened my computer and worked on a job for one of my freelance clients.
Since my regular job paid crap wages, in addition to periodic pet sitting I’d picked up some side gigs doing virtual assistant work for authors.
It was brainless, but it gave me an additional income stream.
It wasn’t like my social work salary was enough to pay the bills in a city as expensive as Seattle.
Things had been a little tight, especially since Amy moved out of our apartment.
She’d prepaid three months’ rent before she left, but I’d been dragging my feet about finding another roommate.
If I could just pick up a little more income, I could afford the apartment on my own.
And if that didn’t work out, I’d just have to find a cheaper place to live when my lease was up.
I sighed. Cheaper would mean farther away from work than I already was.
Looking over at Arthur, who was sleeping on the couch in direct violation of John’s orders before he left, I wondered if I could pick up some other pet sitting clients.
Things usually slowed down after the holidays, then picked up again around Spring Break.
I sighed. Twenty-eight years old and I still was living paycheck to paycheck.
I really needed to get my life together.
Several hours later I woke up on the couch, a giant dog head on my lap.
A message was flashing on the TV, asking me if I was still watching, so apparently I’d been asleep for a while.
Arthur was snoring like an old man with a deviated septum, groaning in protest when I moved him off my lap to go to the bathroom.
Deciding to try the homemade dog biscuit recipe I’d seen online, I turned on the oven, queued up some Christmas songs on my phone, figured out how to connect to John’s wireless speakers, and got to work mixing up the ingredients. Arthur woke up, wandering into the kitchen to see what I was doing.
As I worked, I sang along to the music, getting into it. I guess Arthur was getting into it to because as I sang along with Bruce Springsteen about Santa Clause coming to town, Arthur started to howl along with me. I laughed at his antics. He really was adorable.
Suddenly I heard someone pounding on the front door. This was a secure building, so it had to be one of the neighbors unless the doorman had sent up a delivery.
I headed to the entryway, Arthur right beside me.
When I pulled open the door, I was shocked to see it was the woman from before, the one who’d lost her coffee.
She’d changed into crisp white pants and a cashmere sweater that brought out the blue of her eyes.
Even though it was nine o’clock on a Saturday night, she looked like she was on her way to a business meeting.
Arthur greeted her like a long lost friend, pushing past me to sniff the woman’s kitten heel shoes while his tail whipped back and forth excitedly. Her lip curled in distaste.
“Uh. Hi. Can I help you?” I asked, wondering if she lived in the building.
“Yes you can help me,” she said icily, her cold voice pitching above the music. “By not blaring that god-awful Christmas music while screeching along in what I can only guess is your attempt at singing.”
I couldn’t help it, I started laughing. The woman looked at me like I was nuts. Reaching into my pocket, I used my phone to mute the music.
“Not a fan of Christmas music?” I asked.
“Not a fan of Christmas anything,” she rejoined.
I gave her a look of mock horror. “That’s un-American. What kind of monster are you?”
She just stared at me, clearly not appreciating my attempted at humor, so I moved into small talk.
“We didn’t officially meet earlier,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’m Lanie.”
“Celia Robertson.”
Her response seemed automatic, as did the handshake.
Except there was nothing routine about the way my skin buzzed when it touched hers.
I could tell she felt it too, because she held onto my hand a few seconds too long, staring down at it like she was trying to figure out what was happening.
Or maybe she was noticing the peanut butter underneath my fingernails.
“Where is John?” she asked suspiciously, still holding my hand.
“He and Amy went to take care of Amy’s sick grandmother,” I said.
“Who’s Amy?”
“John’s wife.” She dropped my hand, looking surprised. “Oh. I didn’t know he was married.”
“You should get to know your neighbors,” I said cheerfully.
“I prefer to rely on building security to maintain order.”
I shook my head. “You should re-think that. If the shit goes down and there’s a disaster, it’s good to have people you can rely on nearby.”
Celia gave me a look that clearly conveyed she thought I was nuts. I suppressed a grin.
“Do you want to come in? We’re making dog cookies.”
“You’re making cookies shaped like dogs?” she asked in confusion.
“No, I’m making cookies for the dog,” I corrected.
“Don’t they eat dog food?” she asked skeptically.
Just then the timer went off. I grabbed Arthur’s collar and stepped away from the door, suddenly desperate to crack this woman’s icy shell.
“The cookies are ready. Come on in.”