by Alisha Rai
What on earth?
He pulled the barn door open and peered into the dim interior. Light from the setting sun seeped in through cracks in the wood. As expected, it was empty, cleaned out long ago.
There it was again, the noise. An animal. A sick animal?
Dr. Dolittle he wasn’t, but he couldn’t ignore a sick creature. He flicked on the flashlight on his phone and shined it into the barn.
Chapter Eleven
KATRINA STARED AT the cookbook open in front of her on the kitchen counter. She’d found the vintage book in the living room and had been pretty excited. She stroked the glossy sepia-tinted photo, though she wasn’t really processing what she was looking at.
Katrina had had her first panic attack at seventeen during a photo shoot. She’d thought she was dying. They’d rushed her to the hospital, only for the doctors to throw their hands up after running a battery of tests and tell her nothing physical was wrong with her.
She’d had another one a few months later, with more tests and the same result, and then another one a few months after that. Instead of looking for a diagnosis, her dear old dad convinced her it was stress, exhaustion, she was simply too fragile, and only he could help her. Then he’d taken full control of her money, her career, and her time.
She’d had almost zero self-esteem by the time she was twenty-four, and her fear of having “a breakdown” at any given moment had made parties something to dread, even though she was naturally outgoing and social anxiety had never been an issue for her before.
Her father had carefully chosen her outings, all of them geared toward furthering her career, and an after-party at a popular photographer’s house during Fashion Week in Paris had been one of them. She’d grown bored by the people in attendance and the increasing wildness as the night grew late. Since her dad had been too sick to come with her, she’d taken the opportunity to slip away into the empty library for a rare moment of peace.
Only it hadn’t been empty. Hardeep had been sitting in a chair across from another man, also in his sixties, speaking rapid-fire in a language she didn’t know. They’d both looked up when she’d entered, and the other man’s face had hardened.
He looked a little forbidding, and she’d felt a moment of fear, but her future husband had spoken up. “She doesn’t speak Punjabi, do you, love?”
She’d silently shaken her head, and the man had left. Hardeep had invited her to sit down in his place and quickly charmed her. Charmed her so much, they talked all night. She’d spilled her darkest secrets: her father/manager kept her almost under lock and key, she feared he was deliberately using her attacks as a way to maintain control, and she’d started to read stuff on the internet which suggested she could get help for her condition.
She’d forgotten about the meeting she’d interrupted, until she’d found out later that the guy had been a loan shark Hardeep was encouraging to look the other way on a friend’s debt. That was her late husband. Ride or die for his friends. Ride or die for her, the young woman he’d met and felt sorry for enough to save her from her abusive dad.
She hadn’t lied back then. She hadn’t spoken any Punjabi at twenty-four. But she’d always been quick, and she’d felt such a deep gratitude for Hardeep saving her, she’d spent the next three years learning his language. She’d downloaded apps, looked up a word here, a word there, and while she could only speak it at a very basic level now, she could understand enough of the gist of a sentence to figure out what was going on. It helped when the person spoke slow or sprinkled in some English words.
Words like client. Or her name, uttered in Jas’s deep voice.
I have no interest in Katrina.
She’s a client.
Katrina braced her elbows on the kitchen counter and lowered her head into her hands. He’d been so far away, she shouldn’t have been able to hear him. The wind must have timed itself just right, to carry those words to her ears. You wanted something to kill your hope.
Not so brutally, though, yikes. To go from giddily speculating Jas’s tiny overtures meant something other than kindness to hearing from his own mouth that he didn’t want her . . . oof.
She’d only gone looking for him because she’d wanted to check in on what the internet was saying about her. She’d come to a dead stop before she could turn the corner of the house when she heard what Jas was saying about her.
It had been such a good day, otherwise. Once upon a time, she had enjoyed traveling, and staying in a different place wasn’t nearly as unsettling as she’d thought it would be. The silence here was beautiful, the only sounds those of nature. She’d slowly relaxed and tried to build an equally relaxed farm schedule.
She wasn’t relaxed now. Her lower lip trembled, and she stilled it. She was self-aware enough to know rejection was not a good playmate for her. She needed to control her knee-jerk response to the revelation that Jas had zero romantic feelings for her.
She stuck her hand in her pocket and fondled the rock there. Doubtful that the rock would calm her right now, but it didn’t hurt. Time would ease this painful discovery, surely.
Only she didn’t get the time, because the front door opened and Jas called out her name.
She straightened and breathed deep, buttoning all those wayward feelings and hopes and dreams up inside her like she might zip up her sweatshirt. Those eyebrows were not meant to be smoothed by her fingers. So be it. This situation would be mortifying if Jas guessed that she’d come outside and overheard him and his brother. That would be even more mortifying than him witnessing Jia calling him hot. “In the kitchen,” she replied.
He entered, and he was smiling, the jerk. Who gave him the right to look so cute and cuddly right now?
Be cool. “What’s up, bruh?” Not that cool.
She’d so rarely seen such a wide smile on his face. “Come with me.”
She slowly followed him from the kitchen to the front door. Was he taking her outside to shoot her poor soft heart and put it out of its misery?
Cool. “To where?”
“The barn. I found something that you may like.”
Ugh, the last thing she wanted to do was go outside, where she’d eavesdropped on his convo. But since she couldn’t tell him why she was sad—I like you and you don’t like me was a really terrible color on anyone—she had no choice but to follow him.
The setting sun had turned the sky a pinkish-yellow, and she pulled her hoodie tighter as a ramshackle red structure came into view. She squinted at it, annoyed she had to return to the scene of Jas’s disappointing conversation. “What are we doing here?”
He shrugged, but his smile remained. “You’ll see.”
She coughed when she entered the barn. “Is this place not used much?”
“No, not in a long time. I used to play in it when I was young.”
His flashlight bounced over the punching bag in the corner of the barn, and Katrina wrinkled her nose. “Are you going to have me punch my frustration out?”
Jas frowned, but then followed her gaze. “Ah, no. Though I could teach you how to punch later, if you want. You asked me once, to teach you some self-defense. We never got around to it.”
“I did ask you that.” It had been after her kidnapping. Jas had seemed uninterested, so she hadn’t pushed it.
He scooted around an old piece of machinery her city-girl eyes had no way to identify, and crouched down, shining the flashlight under it. “Don’t get any closer. Look from here.”
She stopped next to him and gasped at the sight. “Oh my gosh.”
The black-and-brown dog blinked up at them from under the machine. She expected a growl, but instead it thumped its tail. “Where did this beauty come from?”
“No idea, or how it got inside.”
“It’s young.” Katrina took a step forward. It was too dark to see very clearly, but the black-and-brown dog looked maybe a year old, and too skinny.
“I figured you’d kill me if you found out there was a dog on the property and I ke
pt him from you.”
“You know me so well.” Oof. The wrong thing to remind herself of right now, how well he knew her. “How do you know it’s a boy?”
“I don’t.” Jas held out his hand. “It won’t come out. Here, boy. I mean, here, pup. Come here.”
The dog cringed and whimpered. Katrina’s heart melted and she got down on the ground, uncaring about the dirt on her clothes. “Hey, baby. Come here, doodlebug.” She extended her hand and waited, making crooning noises. “Aren’t you so beautiful? You’re the most beautiful puppy I’ve ever seen.”
“Now who’s assuming it’s a girl?”
“I didn’t say she, I said beautiful. Every gender is beautiful,” Katrina said firmly. “Come here, baby.”
After a minute or two, the dog straightened, then inched out, one centimeter at a time, until its block-shaped head stuck out from the machine. “I was making a pie,” she said to the pup. “Do you smell some peaches on me, Doodle? Do you like peaches?” She retreated and the dog followed her. Katrina’s eyes widened as the dog seemed to elongate.
“Holy shit,” Jas murmured. “Katrina, back up. It’s way bigger than I thought it was.”
She did not back up, but she did come to her feet when the dog was out from under the machine. The animal came almost to her waist. “Hello, beauty.”
Jas ducked his head and then straightened. “It’s a girl.”
Katrina stroked the dog’s head. Her eyes were big and sweet in the dim light. “No tags.” She beamed at Jas, her upset fading with every pet.
He grimaced. “Sometimes out here in the country people don’t tag their dogs. We’ll have to ask around with the neighbors to see if anyone’s missing one. Take her to the vet and see if she’s chipped.”
“Doodle must be a stray.”
“Please don’t name her yet.”
“Fine.” She snapped her fingers. “Come on, girl. Let’s go outside, okay?” She continued to keep up running, soothing chatter until the dog was outside with her. There was barely enough light left to examine her properly, but Katrina ran her hands up and down her limbs and body. “She doesn’t look injured. I’ll give her a bath and a dinner. Even if she belongs to someone, they can’t object to that, right?”
“I guess not,” Jas said. “But don’t go falling in love.”
Impossible. She was falling deeper every second. Jas had declared himself out of her romantic reach, but she’d found another kind of love, almost immediately. Surely it was a sign, right? Life rarely made narrative sense, but sometimes it could take something away and give something else right back.
Doodle licked her fingers. Falling. In. Love.
“I’ll call Bikram. He knows the neighbors better than I do at this point.”
She cupped the dog’s face in her hands. “I think she’s definitely part rottweiler.”
“The vet will know.”
“Tomorrow,” she said hastily, unable to look away from the puppy’s soulful brown eyes. “Who knows, her owner may show up tonight to get her.” Please, no. “It’s too late now anyway, the vet’ll be closed.”
“This is farm country. There are after-hours urgent care centers.”
“She’s so hungry and tired. Let’s give her a night of rest before we rush her off somewhere.” Katrina was also hungry and tired and could use a night of rest with her new friend.
Jas moved closer and the dog side-eyed him and gave a warning bark. He stopped.
“Hey,” she scolded the dog. “That’s not nice. That’s our friend.” And only our friend.
“It’s okay. Most animals don’t like me.”
“What? Zeus loves you.”
“Zeus is a cat. How can you tell what’s love and what’s utter disdain?”
She scratched the rottie behind its short ears and spoke in a high-pitched voice. “We do not enforce terrible stereotypes about cats. Are we a cattist household? No, we are not.”
Jas coughed, but it sounded more like a strangled laugh. “Fine. Zeus loves me.”
She started walking, and Doodle—that was her name, damn it—followed right at her heels. “What a smart pupper you are. Let’s get you some food and water, and then we’ll give you a nice warm bath.” She glanced at Jas in time to catch what looked like utter softness in his eyes.
But it must have been a trick of the light, because he blinked and it was gone. “Before you get preoccupied with the dog, there’s something I need to tell you.”
He’d known she was eavesdropping.
He’d seen Jia’s text.
He knew she wanted to stroke his eyebrows.
He was going to tell her not to hug him anymore.
She stopped, braced for the worst. “Go on.”
“It’s about—” he hesitated.
The hug. My hotness. How little I like you like that.
“The CafeBae thing.”
Oh right. The whole reason they were out here. “Oh.”
He grimaced. “They’re going to be on TV tomorrow.”
“On TV?” Her voice rose on the second word.
“Yeah. Good Morning Live.”
“What the fuck?” Not the most elegant response, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“That was my reaction.”
“What is newsworthy about this? Is there nothing else going on in the news cycle? No one’s won the Super Bowl? Or the National Spelling Bee?”
“The first one is in February and the second one’s in June, so no.” He shrugged when she squinted at him. “I follow football and the bee. They’re both on ESPN, they’re both sports.”
She made a frustrated noise. “I guess we just watch tomorrow to see what happens,” she said. As if sensing her worry, the dog leaned against her leg.
Unfortunately, the dog was big, and Katrina wasn’t expecting the weight, so she almost toppled over.
“Whoa, there.” Jas steadied Katrina by grabbing her arm. “Can you handle this dog?”
“Oh yes. She doesn’t know her own strength, but she’ll learn.” Katrina petted her new companion. “Look, she loves me already.”
“How could she not?”
The kind, too-personal words almost brought a tear to her eye, especially on the heels of learning what she had learned. How could you not?
“Do you need any help? She’s going to be a handful to bathe.”
“Oh no. We’re fine.” The last thing she wanted was Jas being charming and sexy, especially near a bathtub. Let her be in love with one creature at a time. “Go on and finish doing whatever you’re doing.”
Jas looked away. “Oh yes. I’m very busy.”
“Cool, cool. Me too.” She forced a smile.
Handy trick her father had taught her, smiling even while she hurt, but it didn’t fool her new dog. Doodle stuck close by her side all the way back to the house.
Chapter Twelve
IT WAS STILL dark when Katrina woke the next morning, which was quite normal. The heavy weight snoring next to her was not.
She was already smiling when she turned to greet the animal. Doodle was so good and well-mannered, from her potty-training skills to her stoic acceptance of her bath last night. But unlike most dogs, Doodle hadn’t slept at her feet, but right next to her, giant block head on the pillow.
She wrinkled her nose at her dog’s breath. “Where did you come from?” she whispered, and rested her hand on the dog’s back. Doodle stretched, yawned, and continued lightly snoring. Doodle had been curled up in the kitchen next to the stove when Katrina had come upstairs to sleep. “Your sister doesn’t like sleeping with me, so this’ll be nice when we get home, though I do think you have to learn to sleep on the foot of the bed.” It was probably premature to pair up Zeus and Doodle as cool crime-fighting animal siblings in her head, but she couldn’t help it. They’d be such cute friends.
Her alarm beeped and she mentally groaned. She’d set it as a reminder about Good Morning Live, not that she needed one.
She shivered and burrowed deeper under
the quilt. If she could stay here, bundled up forever, she’d do it. But that was impossible, and not only because the minute Rhiannon got back, she’d drive up here to check on her.
Without disturbing the dog, she slid out of bed. The weather had turned colder overnight, and her room was chilly.
She grabbed her phone from where it had been neatly plugged into the charger on the nightstand. She had multiple missed messages, and she clicked on Rhiannon’s first.
I meeeeeeesssss you!
She smiled. She replied with a heart eyes emoji and moved to the rest of her texts.
There was a message from Andy, delivered a little over half an hour ago.
Hey Katrina. I know you get up early. Call me whenever you want, if you’d like.
She made a face. It was only a matter of time before Andy saw the CafeBae nonsense. Of course her therapist would recognize Katrina and the café and check in on her.
This was timely. And talking to Andy was good for her. So why was she so reluctant to talk to her therapist about all this?
She could wait, have some coffee, but if she did wait, she’d probably put it off longer. She’d learned a long time ago some things were easier to do at dawn, when no one else was awake.
She petted the puppy for moral support and dialed. Andy picked up on the second ring, her voice calm and alert. “Hi, Katrina.”
“Hi.” She scuffed her sock-clad foot along the floor. “You saw?”
Andy didn’t pretend ignorance. “I did. Honestly, almost by accident, I ran across an article.”
“Did you recognize me instantly?”
“Yes. But remember, I saw you a few hours before the photos were taken. I can’t imagine anyone else would be able to figure out who you were.”
Wow. Had it only been three days ago that she’d sat in that café with Andy? When everything was chaos, the days could feel like years, she supposed. “Right. That’s what my roommates said, too. That chances are slim.”
“I think so.”
“I ran away.”
Andy paused. “Did you now. Where are you?”
