Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Maren
If I could bottle the look on Arietta’s face and sell it, I’d be richer than my parents.
It’s pure joy with a touch of surprise.
In celebration of my landing the best job I’ve ever had, I ordered dinner in tonight.
Arietta is a big fan of anything French, so I called up my favorite French restaurant, Sérénité, and had them whip up a feast fit for the best roommate in the city.
It set me back a few hundred dollars, but it’s worth every penny.
Dudley is dining well tonight too. After a delivery person dropped off several boxes containing Dud’s belongings, I rummaged through them.
The dog food he’s been living on is subpar, so I called my cousin Donovan Hunt.
He’s a vet and the knower of all things animal related.
He recommended a grain free brand. One of the vet assistants who work at his clinic stopped by with a complimentary bag for Dudley to sample.
When I filled his dish with it, he barked his approval before he devoured it all.
Arietta’s gaze darts from the food on the dining room table to Dudley wagging his tail.
Maybe her excitement is more about the dog and less about the coq au vin and chocolate soufflé.
“What’s happening?” she asks quietly. “Why is the little sweetheart here, and is that our dinner?”
I divide and conquer the questions as I reach for the worn-out leather bag in her hand. “We’re going to take care of Dudley temporarily.”
She willingly hands over her purse before she bends down to scoop him into her arms. He greets her with a plethora of kisses to the chin.
“I had dinner delivered tonight,” I say nonchalantly as I drop her purse on the white leather couch that neither of us finds the least bit comfortable.
My father bought this apartment furnished. Nothing in here has any personality other than Arietta and me. I can add Dudley to that list now.
“We’re having French food for dinner?” The question is punctuated with the rise of her brows. “Is it someone’s birthday?”
“Yes.” I nod with a sheepish grin plastered on my face. “Every day is someone’s birthday.”
That lures a laugh from her. “I’m lost, Maren.”
I reach to take Dudley from her. “Get into something less grandmotherly, and we’ll eat before the food gets cold.”
Her gaze skims her outfit. “You’re not the first person to tell me that I look like a grandma today.”
I’m not surprised. “I had a bottle of wine delivered too.”
She claps her hands together. “I’ll put on a sweater and yoga pants. I’ll be back before you can count to ten. ”
“I needed this.” Arietta sips from the wine glass in her hand. “This is so good.”
In the time it’s taken her to finish half a glass, I’ve polished off two. I need to slow it down if I’m going to get through explaining everything that happened today before I drift into a coma of inebriation.
“It hit the spot,” I say, nodding my head. “We’re celebrating something.”
Her eyes scan my face. Arietta has a natural instinct when it comes to reading people. Since we started living together, I’ve learned that it’s useless to try and hide my emotions from her.
“I’m all for celebrating the fact that Dudley is staying with us.” She reaches down to scratch under his chin.
He’s been sitting on the floor next to her chair since we started dinner. So far, he hasn’t been rewarded with anything other than the frequent touch of Arietta’s hand as she pets him. French food scraps are not on the menu for him tonight.
“It’s only until his owner gets back to town,” I point out because I don’t want Arietta getting too attached to the dog.
She tilts her head. “Keats Morgan is out of town?”
“He’s in town.” I look at the bottle of red wine but decide not to refill my glass. “His sister owns Dudley. Keats has allergies, so he needs someone to watch the dog at night and on the weekends. Dudley goes to doggy daycare during the day.”
“Doggy daycare is a thing?” She smiles.
“It’s a thing, and tomorrow I’ll drop him off there.”
She lets out a breath. “Why are you taking care of him? I feel like I’m missing something.”
I’ve been hesitant to share the news about my new job because I’m not even sure how I ended up with it. I was lining up an interview while I was in Keats’s office. It was for the position of a sales rep for a company that specializes in selling flavored seltzer water.
I politely declined that after Keats fired Jamie and looked to me as her replacement.
“When I went to drop Dudley off this morning, Keats offered me a job,” I confess.
“I think taking a job dog sitting is admirable, Maren.” She perches her glass in the air as if she’s about to toast me. “Keats Morgan chose the right candidate for the position.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” I say apprehensively.
“What do you mean?”
“He hired me to take care of Dudley, but there’s more.” I reach for the bottle of wine and pour no more than one mouthful in my glass.
Arietta watches my every move. “Tell me.”
I spread my arms out at my sides as if I’m putting myself on display. “You are looking at Keats Morgan’s newest assistant.”
Her entire face lights up. “He gave you a job?”
I nod.
As quickly as the smile appeared, a frown takes its place on her lips. “Why don’t you look happy about it?”
“I’m happy,” I reassure her. “There is one red flag that I kind of looked over before I agreed to take the job.”
She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “What kind of red flag are we talking about?”
“I’m his fifth assistant this year.”
“Fifth?” She questions. “He’s gone through four assistants in one year?”
Scratching my chin, I realize just how bad that sounds. “He fired the last one right in front of me.”
Reaching across the table, Arietta pours what’s left of the wine in the bottle into my glass. “Drink up, Maren. Your new boss sounds worse than mine.”