Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Faye
So apparently, forty minutes is not enough time to get a story straight. At least, it isn’t when you’re dealing with Owen.
But in his defense, it’s surprisingly hard to come up with a logical explanation as to why a dog spontaneously appeared out of nowhere.
“They sell dogs at the bookstore?” Edward says, looking confused when we meet everyone in front of the restaurant.
“Where did he come from?” Amber asks, kneeling down to pet Newton.
Cassandra turns her nose up as she looks at him. “I don’t like dogs. Keep him off my dress.”
“What’s his name?” Amber asks.
“Newton,” I say with my cheeks already burning. We had a few different ideas on how to explain Newton’s sudden appearance, and we settled on the least worst one. “His owner got into an accident and was taken away in an ambulance. The poor guy asked us to hold onto his dog.”
“Oh my god,” Amber says. “What happened?”
I’m about to make up a fake hit-and-run, but Owen decides to complicate everything by trying to help.
“He was impaled,” Owen says with a straight face. “By a moose.”
I drop my head and cringe.
“A moose?” Edward says. “Really?”
Owen nods casually like he didn’t just make up the most far-fetched, outlandish scenario possible. “I guess he didn’t notice the sign.”
“Sorry,” a lady says, butting into our circle. “Did you say someone got impaled by a moose?”
Two couples walking by suddenly stop and butt in as well. “Wait, what happened?” one of the older men asks.
“So cool,” Tristan says. “I wish I saw it.”
“Someone got impaled by a moose,” the original lady tells the two couples. “He was taken away in an ambulance.”
“That’s horrible,” one of the women says. “Where did that happen?”
They all look to me and Owen. More people hanging outside the restaurant come inching over, joining the spectacle. There are over a dozen people now, all focused on us.
“Has someone called wildlife control?” the man says, pulling out his phone. “They should know about this.”
He starts dialling. I look up at Owen in panic. He doesn’t seem as concerned as I am.
“I’ll call the police,” another woman says.
Oh gawd. This is quickly getting out of hand. Why did he have to say a moose when there are a gazillion cars driving by?!
“Hold on,” I say, putting my hand over the man’s phone. I force out a smile, but it’s probably coming out deranged as I look around at all of the concerned faces. “Actually, that’s not exactly what happened.”
“What happened?” Edward asks.
Everyone is silent as they wait for my answer. Dozens of eyes are on me.
I look to Owen for help. Bad idea.
“We were just playing a prank,” he says with a shrug. “This is our dog.”
“You left your dog in your car overnight?” Amber says with a look of disgust on her face.
Everyone starts murmuring angrily, either upset that we left a dog in the car, or that we lied, or that there was no exciting moose attack.
“Cars are no place to keep a dog,” the man with his phone out says while he glares at me. “You should be ashamed of yourself. I should call animal control on you.”
Everyone else nods in agreement. They’re all giving me nasty looks.
“We didn’t keep him in the car,” I say in a panic.
“Yeah,” Owen adds, nodding. “He ran away from home. We found him here.”
“He ran to Muskoka?” Cassandra asks in a deadpan tone. “From Toronto?”
“Yup!” I say with a panicked smile. I guess that’s what we’re going with.
“Baines family,” the hostess calls out as she pops out of the restaurant. “Party of six. Your table is ready.”
I’ve never been so happy to get a table in my life.
“Right here,” I say, bursting forward with my arm up. I get a few more dirty looks as people lose interest and start moving along down the sidewalk.
Edward points at Newton sitting beside Owen’s leg. “We have one more furry guest.”
The hostess smiles at the dog. “That’s fine. Just bring him around back and keep him on the terrace.”
Owen and I walk around the building to the terrace entrance as Edward, Cassandra, Amber, and Tristan follow the hostess into the restaurant.
“So, no moose attack?” the elderly woman smoking a cigarette asks as we pass her.
“Not today,” I mumble.
“Real smooth there, Lavoie,” I mutter as we head around the building. “A moose attack? Seriously?”
“Because of the sign,” he says defensively.
“Yeah, I got it,” I say, shaking my head.
“Should I have said wolves attacked him instead?”
“No! When I said an accident, I meant a car.”
“Oh,” he says as it dawns on him. “Yeah, that would have been much more believable.”
“You think?!”
We head to a gorgeous table in the corner of the terrace overlooking Lake Rosseau. This place is truly spectacular.
Our view could be a postcard. The lake looks like polished glass, with only a few slow-moving boats and a family of ducks sending ripples across its mirror-like surface.
Elegant boathouses dot the shoreline, tucked between towering pines, while happy families wander along the docks below with ice cream cones and shopping bags.
The breeze is warm, the cedar trees smell amazing, and everything is so perfectly picturesque it almost feels like someone built this entire town just to make people fall in love.
Newton ducks under the table and lies on Owen’s feet as we all get settled in. I take one last long look at the view before I open my menu and head straight for the fun cocktails.
“You’re saying that dog found you from Toronto?” Cassandra asks with her eyes narrowed skeptically on me. “All the way here?”
“Incredible creatures,” I say in a pitch that’s higher than normal.
I keep my gaze locked on my menu so I don’t have to see the doubt in her eyes.
“You never know what dogs are going to surprise you with. Owen, tell them all about the enzymes and microbacterial properties of dog saliva. It’s so fascinating. ”
Owen starts telling them all about pH levels and amylase and lysozyme and bacterial cell walls. He goes into depth about microbiomes and how they affect human pathogens. It’s perfect. Because it’s incredibly dry and boring.
Everyone tries to listen, but their eyes quickly glaze over as Owen goes into way too much detail.
By the time he’s finished, they’re all excited to move on from the dog and look at the menu.
We don’t get any more questions about Newton.
I think they’re too afraid Owen will jump into another long, boring soliloquy about dog biology if they bring him up.
“The fish and chips are amazing here,” Edward says as he flips through the menu. “And I’ll give my kidney if it’s not the best clam chowder you’ve ever eaten.”
“Good evening,” the waitress says as she arrives at the table. She’s probably mid-twenties with a nice smile—naturally pretty enough for Cassandra to scowl at her in jealousy.
She looks at everyone around the table and snaps her head back in shock when she sees Owen.
Uh oh.
“Owen?”
Owen’s eyes dart up to her. “Yes?”
“It’s me,” she says, lighting up. “Veronica.”
“Hello, Veronica,” he says. “I’ll start with the clam chowder please.”
The smile melts off her face.
She leans in closer. “Veronica,” she whispers just to him. “From FirstSpark.”
Cassandra’s eyes narrow on the interaction and she tilts her head to the side as she listens. No one else is really paying attention.
“I’ll take the clam chowder too,” I say, trying to move this trainwreck along.
“Clam chowder for everyone,” Edward says. “I’m starving. Can you get that in and then we’ll order the drinks?”
Veronica straightens up, giving Owen an icy glare. “Certainly.”
“How did she know your name?” Cassandra asks, staring Owen down once Veronica is at the computer.
“That silly article,” I say, jumping in. “Every girl in the province knows Owen’s name. They all think he’s still the most eligible bachelor.”
“But you locked him down,” Cassandra says. “Lucky you.”
The sour look on her face says anything but congratulations.
My stomach sinks when I see Veronica glaring at Owen from across the terrace.
“Owen,” I whisper when everyone starts discussing what they’re going to drink. “Go talk to the waitress.”
“I already ordered my appetizer.”
“Not for the food! I think she’s been messaging with Love Bot.”
His face goes pale.
“Go,” I say, kicking his leg.
“Excuse me,” he says, getting up. “I have to use the restroom.”
I keep an eye on him as he wanders into the restaurant. Oh man. This is a disaster. I should be there with him.
“You know, I’ll go too,” I say, tossing my napkin on my plate and rushing after my pretend husband.
I see him standing at the serving station in front of our very animated waitress. She’s waving her arms around and seems to be cussing him out.
That didn’t take long…
I hurry over and smile as I sidle up beside him. “Everything okay here?” I squeak.
She glares at Owen for another long moment and then turns to me. “He’s cheating on you. He has a FirstSpark account.”
She shows me her phone. There’s a full conversation with Love Bot. I quickly skim through it. It’s not too bad. They only matched this morning and they’re mostly talking about her family and her favorite music. Love Bot hasn’t said I love you or asked her to elope. Yet.
“This is your wife?” Veronica hisses. “Why would you bring her here? To make a fool of both of us? To embarrass her? To shove her in my face?”
“I came here for the fish and chips,” Owen says bluntly.
I snort out a laugh.
“Aren’t you furious?” she asks incredulously. “He’s cheating on you! You should be outraged.”
“I am,” I say, furrowing my brow as I glare at him. “You bastard.”
“That’s it?” Veronica hisses.
Owen is standing there all bewildered and I just can’t be mad at him. He’s too helpless and adorable. I just want to hug him.
“He said vows,” Veronica continues, getting all worked up. “He put a ring on your finger. And he’s trying to get with me. Let him have it!”
I grab a water glass off the tray of a waitress passing by. “You… jerk head,” I say, throwing the water into his face.
He steps back with an audible gasp.
Veronica smirks in satisfaction.