The Pet Stylist and the Playboy

by Rebecca James

  I took Maggie to the country club in my father’s red Maserati. She laughed and chatted the entire way, seemingly unaware I wasn’t in the best of moods. When we were seated in the dining room, Maggie did her best to draw me out, and I tried to relax.

  The room was half-full of diners, many of them already half-sloshed. Loud conversation surrounded us, making it difficult to hear each other. I moved my chair a little closer to Maggie’s.

  “I have a confession to make,” Maggie said as she cut into her salmon. “I used to have an enormous crush on you when you lifeguarded at the pool here.”

  I smiled. “Really? Sorry, I don’t remember...”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t. Back then I was a pimply middle-schooler with braces and a tendency to hole up in the shade and read. When I wasn’t watching you, that is.”

  I chuckled. “Well, that’s very flattering. And you grew up nicely.” I marveled at the fact that I wasn’t flirting more with this girl. By now I’d normally have a night with her in the bag. But I still wasn’t interested in a hook up, and even if I were, I only had to think of fucking that guy while Swish was in the next bed to cool my jets. I’d been a pig, and I just couldn’t do it anymore.

  I ordered a bottle of wine, and Maggie told me about her childhood. Unlike mine, hers sounded great. Oh, I couldn’t complain when there were people out there like Swish who hadn’t had a family at all, but the game nights and camping trips Maggie described were miles away from the stoic meals and weekly trips to the theater that had made up my youth. Her parents had probably hugged her, too.

  “I took violin lessons,” I answered when Maggie told me she’d taken piano. “But I prefer guitar.”

  “Classical guitar is beautiful,” Maggie said, and I didn’t see the point in telling her that wasn’t what I liked to play on my guitar at all. I didn’t plan to see her again.

  I don’t know what made me turn and look at the entrance to the dining room, but when I did, I fumbled the glass I was holding at the sight of Swish walking in with Hugh Silvers, the veterinarian.

  Noticing my expression, Maggie turned in her seat to look. “Do you know them?”

  “Yeah,” I said, carefully setting down my wineglass. I watched them make their way to a table, Silvers’ hand at the small of Swish’s back. I wanted to get up, stride over there, and smack it away.

  “Looks like they’re not your favorite people,” Maggie said.

  “Swish—the younger one with the long hair—he’s a friend.”

  “Swish did you say? And I’m assuming he’s gay, since he’s pretty cozy with that man.”

  “It’s a nickname, and yes, he is.” I didn’t like her saying he looked cozy with Hugh. “I’m bi-sexual,” I added, my gaze unwavering. To her credit, Maggie’s remained steady, too.

  “Are you going to go over there and say hello?” she asked.

  I glanced at where Swish and Silvers sat in a booth in the corner, bodies way too close for my liking. “What for?”

  “I got the idea you don’t like the guy he’s with and thought you might want to interfere.”

  I imagined myself striding over there and telling Silvers to take a hike. The idea made me smile. “Nah. He’s okay, I guess. I’m just a little protective of Swish. He’s like a younger brother to me.” Yeah, right. Still telling yourself that, are you, Durham?

  As though he’d heard me, Swish looked my way. Tingles ran up my spine as those deep brown eyes met mine, and his lips parted in surprise.

  “He’s cute,” Maggie said. Honest to God, I’d forgotten she was there. “And the other guy’s hot, too. Swish has good taste.”

  I couldn’t tear my gaze from Swish, who seemed to be measuring up the situation. After a minute, he spoke to Silvers, stood up, and made his way to our table.

  He looked good in a pair of dark dress slacks and a blue shirt opened at the collar. His hair was pulled back at the nape, and his cross earring dangled from his right ear.

  “Hi, Dante,” he said when he reached our table. He glanced at Maggie, and I realized I needed to introduce them. Before I could, Swish stuck out his hand. “Isaac Paul.”

  “Maggie Mallard, nice to meet you.” They shook hands.

  “I see you’re here with Dr. Silvers,” I said.

  “Yeah. I guess I’d better get back. Nice to meet you, Maggie. See you, Dante.” Swish walked back to his table, and I watched his ass the whole time. He wasn’t doing his kind of flamboyant thing he usually did with men; he was being himself. And that bothered me more than if he’d been flicking his wrist at Silvers and calling him “baby.”

  I watched the two of them talking and laughing until I realized I was ignoring my date.

  “Sorry,” I said, returning my gaze to Maggie.

  “No problem. But I think you need to reevaluate how you see your ‘little brother.’”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come on, Dante. The ditzy blond is a stereotype. Even if you hadn’t told me you were bi, I can plainly see your attraction to the man.”

  I took another sip of my wine. “We’re just friends.”

  “Right, and I’m Simon Cowell’s next pick for American Idol.”

  I raised a brow. “You can sing?”

  She looked at me seriously. “Not a lick.”

  I sighed. “I’m sorry. Seeing them together just took me by surprise. Swish has been through a rough time. I don’t want him to get hurt. Do you want dessert?”

  “No, thank you.”

  I motioned for the bill, signed it, and we left. As we approached the door, I looked back and met Swish’s gaze. Like a stab to the gut, it skewered me with a silent message: you don’t have a right to say anything about who I go out with.

  And he was right: I didn’t. I turned and escorted my date from the room.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Swish

  What was Dante doing there? I thought he picked up his dates at bars and took them home to fuck, not wined and dined them at fancy restaurants. Or was this girl someone special? My gut twisted at the thought that Dante might possibly care for her.

  He’d kissed me that day before he left. Why had he done that? Two years of sleeping in the same room, and he’d never kissed me. Then he says goodbye, and wham!

  I had to remind myself that the kiss hadn’t been more than our lips pressed together for a few, brief moments, and Dante had surely forgotten about it as soon as he was out the door. But why had he done it? To throw the kid who’d had a crush on him for years a memento before disappearing forever?

  Dante definitely had been surprised to see me at the country club with Hugh, and his disapproval had shown in his eyes. He was playing big brother, trying to protect me. Well, I didn’t need protecting.

  What I needed was for Dante to be around, and he wasn’t anymore. I know he’d said he’d always be there for me, but that was a big, fat lie. No one stuck around. I’d learned that hard truth at an early age.

  Hugh hadn’t mentioned we were going to a fancy club for dinner, only that he was taking me somewhere nice, so I would know to dress up a little, and good thing, because I had to scramble to find something half-way decent to wear, and I still felt under dressed. Even those who were dressed casually wore clothes that screamed designer brands, and I felt sorely out of place.

  To top it off, the club didn’t have any prices on the menu. Thankfully, the fact that Hugh was obviously a member answered the question of who would be paying. I was relieved, because while I’d been saving the money I earned from my grooming business, it didn’t amount to a lot, and I really didn’t want to blow a big chunk of it on an overpriced dinner.

  I’d been to fancier places with Clint, but with him, I had a role to play. With Hugh, I felt awkward.

  Even though seeing Dante had unsettled me, I was determined to have a pleasant evening with Hugh. He was the first person who had ever asked me out—I certainly didn’t count Clint, who had been more like a job than a lover—and I didn’t want Hugh to regret it.
I liked him. I’d noticed there was no zip of electricity when he touched me, like there was with Dante. Although, with Dante, the zip was more like a lightning bolt.

  “I’ve never seen Dante here before,” Hugh said as our entrees were placed before us. The chicken I’d ordered was so tender, the meat fell right off the bone.

  “His parents must live in the area,” I said, because, having thought about it, that made the most sense. Not wanting to think about Dante, I asked, “What about you? This place isn’t very close to Henry.”

  “I’ve lived in East Hampton almost two years. My practice in Henry has a bedroom upstairs I sometimes crash in when I work late hours.” He took a bite of his steak. “If my brother hadn’t talked me into getting a house out this way, I never would have done it because the commute is a pain in the ass. Stan and I play a game of golf here about once a month and sometimes have dinner together during the week.” Hugh looked around. “This is a little too fancy for my taste, to be honest. I’d prefer a farm out in the country and a home-cooked meal.”

  “You should do what makes you happy,” I said. “Don’t waste your life trying to be what other people want you to be.”

  Hugh took a sip of wine. “Sound advice. My brother’s a top-notch attorney and accustomed to the good life. He’s always trying to get me to do something. Last week he tried to convince me to buy a boat.” He cocked his head to the side, regarding me. “You speaking from experience?”

  “No, it just makes sense to be true to yourself, that’s all.”

  “What’s your story, Isaac?”

  No way I was going there. Bad enough I’d told some of it to Gus and Dante. “I don’t have a story. What you see is what you get.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “New York City,” I said.

  “Family?” Poor Hugh. He was trying, but it had to be like chipping away at granite.

  “Not to speak of.”

  Hugh finally seemed to get the message that I didn’t want to discuss my past and changed the subject. When we finished eating, he drove us to an ice cream shop for dessert which was much more my style, then he took me home. I balanced my double scoop of coconut ice cream while trying to unlock the door.

  Having finished his cone, Hugh took the key from me and did it for me. We were standing really close, and for a minute I was afraid he was going to try to kiss me.

  “I had fun,” he said. “I get the feeling you’re not really into me, but you can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  I looked at my shoes. “I do like you. Really. I guess I’m just not ready to date.”

  Hugh lifted my chin with his finger. “Be honest. I told you before I’m a big boy and can take the truth.”

  “I-I guess I’m kind of hung up on someone right now.”

  Hugh smiled and nodded. “That’s better. Let’s be friends, then.” He looked at my ice cream. “You gonna finish that?”

  I laughed and handed it to him. He told me goodnight and walked to his car, licking the dripping ice cream from the cone.

  Damn. Dante had probably ruined me for all other men, the bastard. Seeing him at the country club had made things so much harder. Between the adages out of sight, out of mind and absence makes the heart grow fonder, I’d definitely have to go with the latter where Dante was concerned.

  I wondered if he was in bed with that girl, Maggie, at that very moment. Knowing Dante, he probably was.

  I was scowling when I stepped into the living room.

  Caleb stood from the couch, a book in his hand. He’d agreed to stay with the animals while I was gone, as Deirdre had been busy. Normally, I didn’t need anyone there for so short of a time, but the kitten had to be fed frequently, as its mother had never come back for it, and I had two dogs penned together that sometimes didn’t get along because I didn’t have anywhere else to put them at the moment. I needed someone there in case they started tearing into each other.

  Caleb was a nice kid, but quiet and sort of shy. So shy, it had taken him weeks of coming over to be comfortable enough to talk to me. I knew he was twenty-years-old and staying with Deirdre, but that’s all I knew.

  “Bad date?” Caleb asked.

  “No, why?” I dropped my keys into the glass bowl on the table.

  “You’re frowning.”

  “Oh. I was just thinking about something unrelated. Thanks for coming tonight, Caleb. The kitty all right?”

  Caleb nodded, curly dark hair falling into his large gray eyes. He was stunning—the type of guy you’d see in ads for expensive preppy clothes standing next to girls with no makeup and pouty, bare lips. I wondered if he and Deirdre were a thing or just friends. I’d never gotten the impression they were together, but since he lived with her, I wasn’t sure.

  “He ate a half hour ago. He’s asleep.”

  I glanced at the basket where the kitten had curled into a ball.

  “Great.” To hell with it; I was curious, and with this kid, I’d never learn anything if I didn’t ask. “Are you and Deirdre a thing?”

  Caleb’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “No. I’m...I’m...” He didn’t finish but stood wringing his hands in a way I found painful to watch.

  “You’re...” I prompted. When he didn’t answer, I added, “Not interested?”

  “Oh, no, well. I mean, Dee-Dee’s great, but...but...I, uh

  Suddenly, it became clear. “You’re gay.”

  Caleb let out a burst of air, looking relieved he didn’t have to say it out loud. “Yeah.”

  “Cool.” I took off my shoes and opened the hall closet to put them in.

  “Guess I’ll head out,” Caleb said, heading for the door.

  “You need a ride?” I asked, pausing with my shoes still in hand.

  “No, thanks. I’ll walk.”

  Deirdre lived nearby and cutting through the woods made it no more than a five-minute walk.

  “You sure? I don’t mind driving you in Gus’s car.”

  “I like walking. But thanks.” Caleb slipped out the door, and I checked on the animals before going upstairs to bed.

  ***

  “You haven’t told me what happened on your date,” Morgan said, stroking along Marmalade’s spine and up her tail.

  “It was fine. We ate. Went for ice cream. Then he brought me home.” I was being purposely vague, not sure I wanted to get into seeing Dante with his date at the country club. Part of me wanted to discuss it, and the other part wanted to ignore it to save my feelings.

  Morgan raised a dark brow. “Did he come in?”

  “No, he didn’t. And before you ask, no. The whole thing felt very platonic.”

  Morgan’s long fingers gently raked over the cat’s fur. “Are you disappointed?”

  I shook my head. “I’m really not attracted to him that way.”

  “Then why did you go out with him in the first place?”

  I frowned. “Because he asked? What’s with the twenty questions?”

  Marmalade rolled onto her back on Morgan’s lap, exposing her cream-colored belly.

  “I’m just trying to figure you out.”

  “I don’t need figuring out.”

  “Then answer the question seriously.”

  I sighed. “Isn’t that what a guy my age should be doing? Dating people? Hugh’s nice, and we had a good time. It just wasn’t anything special.”

  Morgan waited. I got the feeling he knew there was more, and for a brief moment, entertained the thought Dante might have mentioned seeing me to Zeke, and Zeke had told Morgan. But, no. Dante didn’t share details of his life like that. Hell, I didn’t either—or used to didn’t. Morgan was different. He was the only real friend I’d ever had. He didn’t get put off by my surliness, which was part of what I liked about him so much.

  I blew out a breath. “Hugh took me to his country club in East Hampton.”

  “Fancy.”

  “Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Dante was there.”

  Morgan’s hand stilled on the cat
’s belly. “Really?”

  “Yeah, with a date. I didn’t notice them at first. When I did, Dante had spotted me and looked angry.”

  A slow smile crept over Morgan’s face. “Really.”

  “I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. I’ve been thinking about it. Dante’s a big charmer, right? He’s probably even flirted with you.”

  Morgan nodded.

  “Well, he’s never flirted with me. Not once.”

  Morgan opened his mouth to say something, and I stopped him by putting up my hand. “No, listen. I know Dante cares about me, but I really think it’s like a big brother would. I think he didn’t like seeing me with Hugh because he feels protective of me, that’s all.”

  I didn’t mention the kiss Dante had given me in the kitchen. It hadn’t exactly been passionate, anyway.

  Morgan didn’t look fully convinced, but he shrugged. “Okay. If you really think so. But you need to tell him to back off. You have a right to date who you want to.”

  “I agree. I think he realized last night I was onto him and didn’t appreciate it.”

  Morgan gave Marmalade a nudge, so the cat would jump down to the floor and began swiping orange and white hair off his black cotton pants.

  “Dante’s parents must belong to that country club. Either that, or the girl was a member. What I don’t really get is why Dante’s working for his dad in the first place. I would think he’d hate that kind of job.”

  “What was the girl he was with like?”

  “Kind of young. Blond. Nice, I’m sorry to say.”

  Morgan laughed. “You’ve got it so bad.” He sobered quickly. “I’m sorry. I know it hurts.”

  I looked away. “I thought I’d be better when I got away from the club, but he’s all I fucking think about.”

  A knock on the door startled us both. It’d been dark a while, and I wasn’t expecting anybody.

  I got up from the chair. “Is Zeke coming for you?”

  “We would have heard his bike.”