by Elaine Fox
“A friend of mine?” Megan asked. As far as she knew, Penelope and Georgia were the only friends she had in town.
Penelope shot her a sideways look. “Sutter Foley’s sister is on the board.”
“His sister?” she repeated, then laughed. “I didn’t know he had a sister. And I’m not sure I’d call Sutter Foley a friend, exactly.”
She wondered if she should tell Penelope what had happened between her and Sutter at the park, then thought better of it. She liked the other woman a lot, but didn’t know her well enough to trust her with confidences. Not yet, anyway. One thing she was certain of: the last thing she wanted was gossip about that kiss floating around town.
They arrived at the library and clomped down the stairs to the basement behind two other people where a round table had been set up and several people sat chatting. They took their seats and almost immediately the meeting was called to order by a large woman with gray hair and kindly eyes. This must be Wilma Jones, Megan thought, the resident activist and society matron Penelope had told her about. Wilma Jones was apparently a very valuable person to know in the Fredericksburg community.
Megan was not sure she would have spotted the woman’s importance if Penelope hadn’t pointed it out. Certainly Wilma was not dressed like a society powerhouse. She had on a simple flowered dress, conservative enough for her busty frame but a little bit old-fashioned, and her hair was short and curled in a decidedly nondescript style.
The only giveaway might have been the set of wedding rings on her left hand. It looked like three, covered with sizeable diamonds, with one large square one dominating. On Wilma’s sturdy fingers they looked proportionate, but Megan had no doubt they would have looked the size of car batteries on a daintier hand.
“I’d like everyone to welcome our newest member of the board,” Wilma said, smiling at Megan. “Megan Rose has taken over Rose’s Animal Hospital, replacing her father, who is now retired. Thank you for joining us.”
Megan smiled, pleased that Mrs. Jones had referenced her father without a trace of irony, and looked around the table, nodding a greeting at the other board members. She wondered which one was Sutter’s sister. The group was composed of about a dozen people, all but two of them women, who sat with various file folders, coffee cups and soda cans. Most of them smiled back at her.
“I’d also like everyone to welcome Arnetta Suggs,” Wilma continued. “She comes to us by way of Liz Foley, who couldn’t make it tonight. Arnetta is Sutter Foley’s personal assistant.” She put an emphasis on Sutter’s name as if it were very impressive. Which it was.
The entire table turned to look at the woman sent by the man more famous than George Washington.
The thin, graying woman sat tall in her chair and her eyes darted around as if she were the target of a rude joke and was unsure whether she should laugh along or slink away.
“Liz had asked her brother to come,” Wilma continued, brows raised as if to say Wouldn’t that have been special? “But he was understandably too busy to attend, so he sent Ms. Suggs to us as his ambassador. Thank you so much for your time.”
Ms. Suggs blushed to the roots of her hair and glanced around the table. “Oh it’s no trouble. And I wouldn’t dare not do something Mr. Foley asked anyway.”
Silence greeted this admission, but to Megan’s eyes Arnetta Suggs appeared oblivious to her implication that she would not be here if it weren’t for the fact that Mr. Foley might fire her otherwise.
Wilma recovered first. “Well, thank you anyway.”
Arnetta continued, like a panicked bull in a china shop, “I don’t know much about the SBCA—”
“That’s S-PEE-CA, dear,” Wilma corrected, growing noticeably cooler.
“Right, oh, sorry. Anyway, I don’t know much but Franklin Ward says getting involved in community activities can be a great way to make contacts outside the job. Networking is what he calls it. So I’m glad to be here.”
Wilma frowned. “Yes, well, community works can be socially rewarding, but we’re here for the animals, primarily.”
Ms. Suggs’s face brightened. “Right, the animals. Mr. Foley had some ideas about that.”
The room waited breathlessly.
“Well,” Wilma said with a smile at the other members, “let’s jump right in then, shall we? What are Mr. Foley’s ideas?” She sat down as Ms. Suggs straightened importantly in her chair.
“He said I should tell you that you ought to look to save money before you ask people for more…” She hooked one finger around the other as if trying to remember the exact order of his instructions. Hooking the next finger, she continued, “And that if you just killed the animals a day or two earlier—put them out of their misery—he said,” she giggled like a teenager. “Sorry, I’m not very good at an English accent. Anyway, he said that’d probably be more, um, ‘cost effective’ than begging door-to-door.”
If the rest of the room was anything like Megan, they were sitting with their mouths dropped open, feeling as if they’d just been slapped. Megan finally wrenched her eyes from Arnetta Suggs to find that she was right, they were all in a momentary state of shock.
“And that if that didn’t work,” Ms. Suggs hooked a third finger, “then you should just let them all go because somebody would probably pick them up.”
The silence broke all at once. Everyone started talking.
“That’s preposterous,” a man with a bald pate said, standing up to emphasize his point. “The man should be arrested for animal cruelty!”
A thin woman in riding jodhpurs piped up, saying, “I say we go to his house and confront him with this.”
Megan pictured her with a riding crop and might have feared for Sutter’s well being if she weren’t ready to do the same thing herself.
“Who does he think he is?” another woman demanded.
“What the hell—?”
“He must be joking—”
“That’s just like those rich—”
Megan watched them all, wanting to stand up and proclaim that he couldn’t possibly have said such a thing, but in the back of her mind she feared maybe he had. Maybe she didn’t know him at all. Well obviously she didn’t know him at all. She’d only kissed him.
Wilma got them all firmly in hand at last, pounding on the table and calling for quiet. When they’d settled down and the balding man had sat back in his seat, she took a deep breath and addressed Ms. Suggs.
“I’m going to hope in my heart that anyone related to Liz Foley would not have said something so vile,” Wilma said through stiff lips, “but as I have no intention of calling you, Ms. Suggs, a liar, I’d appreciate it if you sent the board’s unanimous disapproval of his ideas back to Mr. Foley.”
“Well, I’m going to go further than that,” the bald man said, dropping a fist hard onto the table and shaking everyone’s soda cans. “I’m going to write him a letter and tell him exactly what I think of his cost-effective ideas. He may be a billionaire, but he won’t get far in life being that cruel to God’s living creatures.”
Megan figured he’d probably gotten far enough in life already not to have to give God’s living creatures a second thought.
“You can also tell him we’re already a no-kill shelter,” jodhpur woman said. “That means never. Not even to save a few bucks.”
Arnetta Suggs, for her part, looked stunned by the outburst and chewed her bottom lip as Wilma spoke.
“I certainly will pass along all you’ve said,” she said, kneading her hands together and looking toward the door. “I didn’t mean to offend everyone. I thought—that is, he thought, I think—that it would just be helpful, you know, to think about other ways to save. That a couple days really wouldn’t make much diff—”
“Thank you, Ms. Suggs,” Wilma said, overriding the woman’s words. “We really have heard quite enough.”
Megan looked at the shy, mortified woman who had delivered Sutter’s supposed words and had a hard time believing Ms. Suggs was not repeating something
she had actually been told. She just didn’t seem the type to come up with such a thing—to come up with anything, really—on her own, much less make something up and attribute it to someone else.
Megan’s heart thundered in her chest to think that Sutter might have been serious, and only played a gentler role with her in order to…what? Kiss her in the park?
It seemed ridiculous, but still, he didn’t know she’d be here at this meeting. Certainly the first time she’d met him he’d made no bones about his feelings toward dogs. He’d even said something about setting Baywatch—that is, Twister—free in some field where no one would have to bother with her anymore. But then he had named the dog—no wait, his cook had done that, hadn’t he said? Well, he’d brought the pup to the park, she knew that. But then, she’d been there and he’d kissed her. What did that mean?
Megan was so confused and upset by the exchange that she missed most of what was said at the rest of the meeting, though she did notice Ms. Suggs taking copious notes as the other members tried to collect themselves and speak to the issues. She was pretty sure everyone else was in the same state of shock and anger when the meeting broke up shortly thereafter with an agreement to meet in two weeks to discuss the gala ball they were planning.
“Heavens!” Penelope said as they left the library. “Can you imagine anyone saying such a thing? You’ve spoken to him lately, did he seem so heartless to you? So cruel and uncompromising? I have to say, though I’d always thought of him as kind of a cold fish, he must really be an obnoxious jerk!”
“If he really said all that, jerk is putting it mildly,” Megan said, smiling at Penelope’s primness. She herself would have called him an outright asshole if she could get her mind around his actually having said such things. “I just wonder if Ms. Suggs got it right. It seems anyone with a brain would know not to say something like that to the SPCA, of all people.”
Penelope was frowning. “Maybe. I don’t know. You don’t get to be a billionaire without stepping on a lot of people. And animals are easier to step on than people.”
“Maybe, but less productive. It’s not like you get ahead by killing pets,” Megan pointed out.
“It’s a mindset,” Penelope clarified. “You just get used to expediency.”
Megan had to admit this had the ring of truth. And nobody would dispute that Sutter was a genius, at least in his area of expertise. And you really didn’t get ahead without being somewhat ruthless, that much had been clear to Megan for years. She clung to it, in fact, as a reason she was still broke.
“But to answer your question, no, he didn’t seem like he’d say something like that.” She thought again of that kiss in the park, of the way he’d looked at her—with such heat. Surely she couldn’t fall for someone, even physically, who was so heartless.
“That mousy assistant of his didn’t seem like the type to lie,” Penelope said as she unlocked the Mercedes. The two got in.
“No, she didn’t. But she also didn’t seem like the sharpest tool in the shed.” Megan pushed the button to roll down her window, letting the fragrant night air in. “Maybe she got it wrong, somehow.”
Penelope shook her head. “I don’t know…”
“I don’t either. And I sure would like to.” Megan wondered if she should call him up and ask him. But aside from the fact that she didn’t have his phone number, and most likely wouldn’t be able to get it, a confrontational call out of the blue would be a difficult thing to pull off. Especially after that kiss.
Maybe a casual visit would be better…
“He always seemed pretty aloof to me,” Penelope said, a tsk in her voice. “But maybe she did get it wrong. He could be a great contributor, even just a great name to use to solicit other corporate donations, if he had an ounce of human compassion for the plight of these animals. Which it sure sounds like he doesn’t.”
Megan nodded. A contributor…she could go see him on the pretext of getting his support…She shook her head sharply. She never needed pretexts to say what she wanted to say before and now would be a bad time to start. She wasn’t going to be either intimidated or lured by his money. She was just going to speak her mind.
Penelope eyed her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m just thinking…maybe I should pay Sutter Foley a visit.” She glanced at the clock. It was only 7:45 and the evening was still balmy and beautiful, not even quite dark. She could walk Peyton up to check on Twister. A play date. She half grinned, half grimaced to herself. A play date was certainly what she wanted, but maybe it wasn’t the best thing to have during this conversation.
“And ask him about tonight?” Penelope asked, casting worried glances at her from behind the wheel.
“Yes, why not? When he denies he said such a thing—which he surely must do—I can hit him up for a donation.”
“Oh Megan, that would be great,” Penelope breathed. “Having Sutter Foley behind our cause would be such wonderful P.R. But do you think…that is, do you feel comfortable paying him a visit? He’s so notoriously private.”
Megan shrugged. “I’ve been to the house before.”
Not to mention that she’d felt his tongue with hers, surely that got her some visiting rights.
“Besides,” she added, “somebody needs to figure out the real story here. If his solutions really are that draconian he should be called to the mat for them. And I’m just the person to do it.”
Sutter was just sitting down to a meal of grilled swordfish with summer squash over a saffron risotto and a lovely white Bordeaux when the doorbell rang. He heard Martina bustle to the door just as Berkley came out of the kitchen to ask how everything was.
“Ace,” Sutter said. “Another brilliant feat of simplicity.”
“Someday you’re going to let me go wild and show you how brilliant complexity can be, but perhaps that’s better suited to fall anyway.” He wiped his hands on a dishrag and threw it over his shoulder just as Martina entered the dining room.
“A miss want to see you, señor,” she said, tilting her head back to the door. “Miss Megan Rose?”
The way she said the name it sounded exotic, Sutter thought, that’s the only reason his nerves jumped when he heard it.
Sutter looked back at Berkley and gestured with his chin toward the kitchen. “Is there enough in there for another plate?”
“Sure. Just take me a minute to grill another filet,” he said.
“Great, bring that out and another glass of wine, would you? Then you can go. And thanks.” Sutter calmly put his fork down and stood just as Megan entered the room.
“Oh.” She glanced from the table to the door through which Berkley had disappeared. “I’m so sorry to interrupt. The, uh, your maid?” She moved her hand in the direction Martina had just disappeared. “She didn’t tell me you were eating.”
“It’s not a problem,” he said mildly, hoping his face didn’t show his apprehension at her visit. Could this have something to do with that disastrously impulsive kiss on Saturday? “Won’t you have a seat?”
She shook her head. “I can come back later, really. I’m sorry.”
Berkley reappeared with a second plate and Megan managed to look further mortified.
“Oh no, and you’ve got company too. I’ll just come back.” She started backing out of the room.
Sutter laughed. “The plate is for you, Dr. Rose, if you’d like it. You’re my company.”
At that she stopped and gave him that look that clearly showed the devilish spark in her eye. The look that made him think she got a joke that he wasn’t even aware of.
She glanced at Berkley. He placed the food on a placemat and produced some silverware from his apron pocket, which he situated around the plate. Then, with a flourish, he lifted the wine bottle from the cooler and filled up her glass.
“Well, who could resist this?” She held her hand out to Berkley. “Hi, my name’s Megan Rose. I’m the new vet at Rose’s Animal Hospital.”
Sutter smiled to himself. G
ood business sense, he thought, always mentioning the animal hospital.
“Berkley Lambert, at your service,” his chef said, grinning through his moustache at Megan. The two shook hands and Megan turned to sit down. Berkley helped with her chair and gave Sutter what could only be called a conspiratorial smile.
“Thank you,” Megan said, looking at her plate as she put her napkin in her lap.
“Will there be anything else, sir?” Berkley asked.
“No. Thank you, Berkley. You can go.” Sutter picked up his wine glass and brought his gaze to Megan’s. Her brow was furrowed and she regarded him as if he’d just insulted someone. “What? What is it now?”
She looked surprised. “Nothing.” She clearly thought better of that answer, though, and after glancing behind her, apparently to see that Berkley had gone, added, “No, okay, I was just thinking how natural it is for you to give orders. You’re waited on in your own home and you don’t seem the least bit awkward about it. I feel funny when the guy at the grocery store helps load the bags into my car.”
“I don’t understand.” He put his wine down. “He’s my employee, whom, I might add, I pay extremely well.”
“Of cours eyes, I’m sure you do. I just…think I’d feel funny about it, that’s all.” She smoothed the napkin in her lap, then looked back up at him. “Though I wonder…were you as nonchalant in giving your orders to Ms. Suggs before she took your place at the SPCA board meeting tonight?”
Sutter, who had picked up his glass again, froze midway in bringing it to his lips. “I asked Arnetta to go to the meeting and take notes. Good lord, she didn’t speak, did she?”
Was he the new donor of a million-dollar facility, he wondered. Had Arnetta suggested he’d adopt a few hundred more pets? What had she done? He contemplated the possibilities with dread, for he was sure it was something he would absolutely not want to do.
“Oh yes, she spoke, all right,” Megan said. She paused a moment to sip her wine, started to speak again, then stopped and looked at the glass. “Wow. That’s delicious.”
