Chapter 5 #2
I’ve been shit on my entire adult life for my career choice—it’s not a real job, do something better with your life, etc. etc. I’ll be damned if I take any crap from Joey.
“You thought you would research what I do in my private time but not look into my professional life at all. A professional life is the only connection we have. And you assumed, because I walk dogs, I couldn’t afford the annual membership to a sex club?”
He blinks at me a few times. “Yeah.”
“Go fuck yourself. Then Google me.” I turn away, and as I grab my phone, more connections start to fit together. “Did you beat the shit out of my ex-boyfriend?”
He pauses for a long time, almost in a suspended animation. “No.”
“To what? My question or my demands?”
He struggles with the words, “All of those.” Micro-expressions, twitching eyebrows… he’s lying.
“Go to hell.” I storm out, slamming the door so hard, one of the pictures falls off the wall.
I spend the rest of the day screaming in my head. I lost my friends, my not-grandmother, my dream man Nico, and my dignity all in twenty-four hours. But I did gain a group chat.
Me: How pissed should I be if someone violated my privacy and made assumptions about my wealth, but they thought they were doing something nice and they’re going through a tough time?
My phone rings within seconds of hitting send. “What the fuck did Joey do?” Alana asks, but her voice is all echoey. “I swear to God I’m going to kick his ass.”
I don’t know how much to say. “He, um, refunded me a membership.” I think that’s good enough.
“Ohhhh!” Alana says. “That’s where I recognized you from. I’ve been trying to put it together all day.”
Oh. I whisper, “You’re a member of Club Midnight too?”
“Yeah,” Alana admits. “I like to control how and when I fuck, and it’s always on a night when Joey or Dimitri aren’t there.
And now that Waverly and Lukas started taking classes, it’s cutting into my time too.
Hmm… I haven’t been there in over a year, either.
Why didn’t Joey refund me? Cheap-ass bastard. ”
Izzy grumbles, “Because now that you sold off thirty percent of Grasshopper, you’re a multimillionaire.” She’s not as loud as Alana, so maybe I’m on speaker phone. A little warning would be nice, I mean what if I said something even more inappropriate than I already have?
I don’t know or understand what the hell they’re talking about. “Whatever. I should be pissed, right? I’m not sure which level of pissed I should be though. A little pissed and I can be won over with cupcakes? Or should I slice his tires?”
“He’s second in line for the Italian mob, I’d be careful about any property damage,” Izzy says.
That’s the second time they’ve talked about organized crime. I thought it was a joke at first, but now...
Whatever, again. Because my focus is locational and compartmentalized, the instant I enter the office, my brain goes into work mode, and I do my very best to be a functional adult for a little while.
I spend the afternoon updating our company newsletter and creating a new coupon for referral bonuses.
I have a meeting with the accountant to make sure our quarterly taxes are ready to go.
Stupid boss stuff that does not hold my attention very long.
But the dogs are fun, so I flip through the client files, mostly to update the pictures and to check the shot records.
Kingston is flagged as overdue for his Bordetella, and he’s due for his rabies. That’s probably something Jerkface Joey needs to take care of. Crap. This is my second reminder about Kingston and the vet.
I write Kingston’s vet’s phone number and mentally cringe. There are lots of vets in this town; I don’t know why Nonna insisted on seeing this one. Actually, I do know why. He’s young, cute, and single. He also gives me the ick, and I don’t know why.
Checking my email after doing the small tasks gives me a nice little dopamine hit. One subject line grabs my attention, and I sigh. “The closing date changed.”
Motherfucker.
Another three months, are you kidding me? How long could it possibly take to finish building a condo once the basic infrastructure is done? It means another three months of rent in an apartment where I can’t have a dog. Can this day get any worse?
I finish off my day and head back to Kingston. Last walk, and it’s a short one. Joey’s car is still in the driveway. Ugh. I don’t want to deal with him, either.
Kingston greets me at the door, tail curled and ears up. He is the best boy, and his new owner can eat a bag of dicks.
Said owner is sitting at the kitchen table—still, or again—and his laptop cord is a tripping hazard across the floor.
He jumps to his feet and crosses his arms. “You own the largest dog walking company for fifty miles.” Why does he sound incredulous? Like I’ve committed some cardinal sin. He also sounds annoyed at my success.
Riiiiight. He has a penis. Being surrounded by amazing women who support one another, I forget that men can be like this.
“Congratulations. You do know how search engines work.” I frown and hook Kingston’s leash.
“I don’t understand why you’re walking dogs. Don’t you have employees for that?”
“Dogs are better than people.” I shrug. “And at thirty dollars a visit, given that I have ten to fifteen daily clients who get picked up twice, I make over six hundred a day, six days a week. And that’s just walking the dogs.
It doesn’t include the overhead I get from all the other dogwalkers for each job they do.
On a good day, I bring home over a grand.
” I do jazz hands. “Math—the more you know.”
“It was a fucking misunderstanding. You don’t need to be such a bitch about it.” Wow, the audacity of this guy. “This is the exact reason why I don’t do nice things for people.”
“Oh, you’re right. I’m sorry. Thank you very much for invading my privacy and passing unfounded judgments on my personal life.”
He barks. “Or lack thereof.”
Aaaand I’m done. The day started off amazing and has slowly become a shitstorm with each passing minute.
“You know, Nonna used to tell me stories about her grandson. How incredible and kind he was. How thoughtful, considerate, and smart. Truth be told, I was kinda crushing on him a little bit. But damn if you aren’t the biggest disappointing dose of reality I’ve ever had. ”
“Well, that’s the first thing we fucking agree on,” he throws the words like knives to my chest. “Because, wow, what an underwhelming experience it’s been to finally meet you.”
The anger in his voice scares Kingston, and his curly tail loses its spring as his ears go back and he presses his furry little body against mine.
Joey’s eyes widened. “Why is he doing that?”
“He’s scared.” I bend down and pet between his ears. “If this is the way you’re going to be, I’ll take the dog in three months when I move into my new place.”
“The fuck you will.”
“Well, if you’re going to be an asshole, I’m definitely not leaving him with you long-term.”
“Lots of people are assholes, and they have pets. He’ll be fine.” Joey crosses his arms. He’s in a power pose, but it comes off like he’s a whiny little boy. He rolls his eyes and bends down. “Kingston, come here.”
The dog doesn’t move. Instead, he looks at me. Joey softens his tone and calls the dog over a second time. But Kingston still refuses and backs up closer to me.
“What do I do?” Joey asks, and for the first time, he seems dejected. Like he’s never hurt anyone before, and he needs to make it right.
“Try offering him a treat.” Might as well give him the basics, Dog Ownership 101.
Joey scans the kitchen, heading to Kingston’s food dish and his doggie shelf. After thirty seconds of searching, he glances at me.
“They’re in the cookie jar.”
The dog’s ears perk up as soon as I say the C word, but he doesn’t leave my side until Joey opens the cookie jar lid. Then he’s in the kitchen at rocket speed. His ears are back up, and he sits down, even though he only likes his butt touching the carpet.
“Traitor,” I grumble. This whole day has been one huge disappointing mess. I drop the leash and yell, “You can take him out tonight. I’m done.”