The Moment of Truth

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  But the puppy’s well-being depended upon his owner’s comfort. And Josh wasn’t comfortable leaving the dog in his crate for more than a couple of hours.

  Of course, he was going to have to at some point. Or wait until Little Guy was house-trained and then put in a doggy door for him to go in and out as he pleased.

  Chances were Little Guy would be more rambunctious for Josh if she didn’t go over to let him relieve himself. Part of the reason Josh was getting so comfortable around the puppy was because there hadn’t been any accidents for a long time.

  She was a pet-placement counselor. She had a job to do.

  Her biology professor dismissed the class.

  And Dana hurried to her car.

  * * *

  THE SECOND JOSH opened his door at lunchtime he smelled Dana’s already familiar scent. And ached. Had she left him a note?

  Surely, after the previous night, after having sex with him, she’d at least have something to say to him.

  He looked everywhere. Even in his bedroom.

  Nothing. She’d had nothing to say.

  You get what you pay for. You want to win big, you have to pay big.

  His father’s words rang in his brain.

  Remembering Michelle, Josh knew that he was getting what he deserved. And knew that, if he never got anything in life he wanted ever again, he would still not have paid off his debt.

  * * *

  HE’D BEEN HOME for lunch. She could tell, not only from the lingering scent of his aftershave, or cologne, or whatever it was. But because he’d left her a note.

  As opposed to sending her a text.

  Dana,

  I am truly sorry for the way I handled things. Those moments with you meant a lot to me. I would give just about anything to undo what I did.

  Little Guy’s squeals reminded her that he was still in his cage.

  With the note in hand, she released the dog, saw him out the back door and stood on the patio, paying absolutely no attention to him at all as she read the note again. And again. Trying to decipher the few brief sentences.

  She was no closer to doing so when Little Guy was back at her feet, waiting for his good-boy treat.

  “‘I would give just about anything to undo what I did,’” she read aloud as she juggled the growing puppy, the note and the door. “What does he mean by that?” she asked the dog, who was staring up at her with eager brown eyes.

  Door shut and locked behind her, she grabbed two treats and, sitting with the puppy on her lap, fed them to him one at a time.

  “Would he undo having...you know...with me? Or just the afterward part when he made me feel like a slut?” she asked. “He said it meant a lot to him....”

  Little Guy stared up at her, his head cocked to one side.

  That’s when the tears came. She’d made it out of there the night before and through the rest of the evening and night all without shedding a tear.

  It wasn’t as though she’d been a virgin. She’d been engaged to be married. And she’d had a steady boyfriend before that, too.

  A few tears dripped off her jawbone onto Little Guy’s fur. He sprinted up and licked her face.

  Chuckling through her tears, stifling them as she’d learned to do so long ago, she said, “I know, you’re right. Tears don’t solve anything. They only make you wet and give you a stuffed-up nose.”

  Logic she’d come up with the day she’d turned fourteen and there’d been no celebration.

  How could you celebrate the anniversary of the biggest betrayal of your life? She’d heard Daniel ask her mother the question that night, when they thought all three of the girls were in bed asleep.

  Dana’s tears had dried the instant she’d heard the pain in Daniel’s voice. Because she understood his side, too. She also felt betrayed by Susan. Horribly betrayed.

  And there hadn’t been anything Susan could do to change things for any of them.

  “So, what do you think?” she asked the puppy as she ran her hand down his back and, with her other hand, scratched his throat—feeling something inside of her settle at the contact. “What should I do now? Leave him a note? Text him? Or pretend like none of it ever happened?”

  The puppy stared. Dana nodded.

  “Right,” she said. “He’s probably just saying what he thinks he has to say to smooth things over.”

  Little Guy’s head cocked again.

  “I know, I know.” She grinned and hugged the puppy to her chest. “Smooth what over? Nothing happened. But something’s going to happen if I don’t get you back in your kennel and hightail it to class. I am absolutely not going to lose my perfect grade-point average over this.”

  She cut herself off just as she was about to add, “He’s not worth it.”

  Because one thing Dana could not do was lie to a dog.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  FRIDAY NIGHT, DETERMINED to leave Dana alone, Josh spent time on the internet, learning about a host of household things, including how to sort laundry and how to get hard-water stains out of toilets. He stopped short of home repairs. Ian, at work, had mentioned a handyman he’d hired to lay tile on his back patio, and if Ian could afford to hire home maintenance on his salary, then Josh could, too.

  When Josh’s computer failed to be company enough to keep him occupied, Josh turned to L.G., who’d been hanging out on the floor by his feet.

  “You want to go for a drive?”

  The dog stared at him.

  “You want to go?” he asked again.

  Lying on the expensive leather shoe he’d adopted, L.G. didn’t seem to know if he wanted to go or not.

  He wanted to go, Josh decided. The puppy had already spent too long in his kennel that day. It would be cruel to stick him back in there again so soon.

  Decision made, Josh was in his SUV and backing down the driveway in record time—with no destination in mind.

  It took him twenty minutes to make it around the town and back. And another ten to find the huge house outside of town that, to this point, he’d managed to avoid completely.

  Stopping the vehicle far enough away to avoid concerns of suspicious activity, he put it in Park and sat back, looking over the landscape lighting that hinted at the overall elegance of the estate.

  “What do you think, L.G.? Can you picture yourself living like that?”

  Sitting in the passenger seat, his front paws braced against the leather, staring straight ahead as though he could see out a windshield that was well above his head, the puppy calmly lay down.

  Josh could picture it.

  Was he a fool to turn his back on what was rightfully his? Not the Montford mansion, but the life it represented?

  Was it his purpose in life to be a spoiled rich playboy? Was he fighting something he’d never be able to change?

  Or was this truly his moment of truth? His chance to save himself from wasting the opportunities he’d been given to make a difference during his time on earth? Did he have it in him to contribute something good of his own to the world?

  As he’d been sitting in the hospital, waiting for news on Michelle’s condition, Michelle’s sister had asked him what good works he’d done in his life.

  He’d listed off his successful business deals.

  Parties he’d thrown that everyone had loved.

  Generous gifts he’d bought.

  And she’d shaken her head.

  Good works, she’d said. She’d listed some charity opportunities they’d had at Harvard. He’d been too busy to look into them. But he remembered the checks he’d written for Michelle.

  Rather than impressing her, she’d just looked away, shaking her head.

  Now, as he sat staring at the mansion that loomed in front of him, he felt something wet agains
t the edge of his hand. L.G.’s nose butting up against him.

  Glancing at the dog, Josh was hit by the irony of his current situation. How could he possibly expect himself to unravel the mysteries of life when he didn’t even know if the dog was simply seeking companionship or telling him that he had to piss?

  Josh wasn’t ready to head back to the house. But taking the puppy’s cue, he put the car in gear and drove straight to his real destination—and the real reason he had the puppy in the car with him.

  L.G. would be his ticket in.

  Once he got there, what he did with the admittance was up to him.

  When he pulled onto Dana’s street, he relaxed for the first time that evening. Until he saw the car parked behind hers in her driveway and the other two parked on the street in front of her place. Her blinds were still open, and as he slowed down in front of her house, he could make out at least three people inside.

  Speeding up, Josh drove on past. Obviously Dana wasn’t suffering over his less than stellar behavior the night before. She wasn’t alone, grieving....

  Hell, for all he knew she had a boyfriend. He hadn’t even asked.

  It was so typical of him that it hadn’t even dawned on him to wonder about her situation.

  Which was why he was going to do her a favor and leave her the hell alone.

  Dana deserved better.

  * * *

  DANA HAD LORI, Marissa and Dillon—Marissa’s boyfriend—over for pizza and cards Friday night. While she enjoyed their company, she also felt kind of like their parent as she sat there listening to them talk about who was talking to whom and who said what among the kids they knew.

  She listened, laughed and joined in, usually with a piece of advice, and thought about Josh’s note. It meant something that he’d written that note instead of just texting her.

  Maybe she should have responded.

  She hadn’t heard from him all night.

  Cleaning up after her guests had left, she pictured Josh arriving home after work earlier that evening. Had he looked for a reply to his note? Had his eye gone to the place where he’d left the note and found the spot empty?

  Her heart lurched.

  Had he even gone home after work?

  Now that Josh was meeting people he’d have his pick of dates. Of invitations and places to spend his downtime. Guys like Josh Redmond. The kind with all the confidence in the world, with looks that would buy them entrance into any circle and, most important, a heart kind enough to take on a puppy simply because it didn’t have a home, even though they knew absolutely nothing about dogs but were willing to let the puppy turn their home upside down, to clean up after him and never once consider giving the dog back... Guys like him had so many people vying for their attention that they didn’t have time for girls like Dana Harris.

  She was everyone’s friend. Lori’s. Jerome’s. Now Marissa’s and Dillon’s. Lillie’s and Jon’s. Sharon’s. The list went on. It had been the same at home, too. People came to her with problems, and usually she found a way to help.

  Most of the time, she was completely happy with that.

  Turning off the lights, she went to bed. And refused to think about Josh or those few brief minutes when her body had been joined with his.

  She had to be up early in the morning for another pet-therapy visit to a nursing home in south Phoenix. Jerome was coming over to do laundry after that. She had calls to make in an attempt to find forever homes for three older rescue dogs that were in foster care. Zack had called, giving her jurisdiction over the placement and follow-up. She had her own “clients” and was excited about this new road she’d embarked on.

  And she also had a couple of places to visit for a possible puppy for Abraham Swartz. Something else she was excited about.

  She had homework to do, too. Because she was in college. Finally.

  Life was exactly what she made it.

  And that was fine.

  * * *

  IAN CALLED SATURDAY morning, inviting Josh to join him and his wife, Amy, and Amy’s single, ex-cheerleader friend for an afternoon of golf followed by dinner at the country club.

  He accepted the invitation. But only played nine holes and took a side trip home before dinner to let L.G. out for a bit.

  When Olivia, the ex-cheerleader, offered to take him mountain climbing not far from the cactus jelly plant outside of town Sunday morning, he agreed to go. L.G. would only be locked up for about four hours. And then he’d be home with him for the rest of the day.

  But the invitation he received for Thanksgiving dinner, the one that would give him reason to leave Dana Harris well and truly alone, he declined.

  His mother had taught him a long time ago that once you accepted an invitation, you did not turn it down for another one that came along.

  At least that was the excuse he gave himself.

  * * *

  DANA DIDN’T FIND a puppy for Abraham on Saturday. But late Sunday afternoon, she had a good feeling when she pulled up to the desert home a few miles outside of town. Puppies Free To A Good Home, the sign read.

  The owner was a client at the clinic and, according to Zack, had been shocked a few months earlier to find out that her cherished, rescue dog—a poodle-spaniel mix—wasn’t ailing as she’d feared, but was, instead, expecting pups.

  The second Dana saw the four-foot-by-four-foot wired cage with newspaper flooring, filled with a slightly suspicious mother and four little pups, one white, one brown and two a mixture of the two colors, she knew she was in trouble.

  “How soon can I take one?” she asked the owner.

  “Today if you like,” the plump mother of two young boys said, practically throwing the pups her way. “They’ve been wormed, had their shots and have been eating puppy food and drinking water out of the bowl since the beginning of this week.” A holler sounded from the other room. “Excuse me,” the woman said, while Dana held first one and then another of the puppies.

  She’d find homes for all four of them, she promised herself. But for now, the little brown male would be perfect for Abraham.

  Holding her choice, she looked back at the cage. To the brown-and-white female with the tiniest paws, who was climbing on her siblings’ backs in an attempt to get back to Dana.

  “What did you decide?” The harried dog owner was back.

  “I’ll take him,” Dana said, holding up Abraham Swartz’s new puppy. And then, with one last look at the cage, reached down and grabbed the little girl. “And her, too.”

  She might not be good enough for Josh Redmond, but she would do just fine as a human mother to a new pup.

  * * *

  JOSH WAS CONTEMPLATING taking another drive with L.G. Sunday evening, maybe to Phoenix to find some good take-out sushi, when the text message came in.

  Are you still joining us for Thanksgiving dinner?

  The holiday was still almost two weeks away.

  Yes.

  He waited. No reply. Grabbed his keys.

  Is LG busy tonight?

  He grinned.

  No.

  Can he come over to play? I have someone I’d like him to meet.

  Someone.

  Someone else, not him.

  Josh had never been an emotional guy. And he didn’t appreciate the surge of disappointment he felt.

  He’s going to Phoenix with me. Josh punched in the words, reread them.

  Idiot. You just told her he didn’t have any plans.

  He deleted what he’d written, sent off a quick Okay and dropped his phone back into its holster.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  TEN MINUTES AFTER she’d texted Josh, Dana heard a car out front.

  He’d rushed right over. Grabbing up Lindy Lu, she went to greet Little Guy. She’d already
promised her growing pet family that she was not going to make a fool of herself over Little Guy’s father.

  With them watching over her, she’d be sure to keep her promise.

  “Come on in,” she said, holding the front door open as Josh, wearing jeans and a white button-down shirt, came up the walk, Little Guy under his left arm like a football.

  “You got a pup!” Josh grinned.

  “I told you I had someone here who wanted to meet Little Guy.”

  “I thought...” He broke off as Little Guy, seeing Lindy Lu, squirmed to get down. “Doesn’t matter what I thought,” Josh said, squatting as he put his pup down on the tile floor in her living room.

  Dana sat, inviting Little Guy to come closer, while she cradled the four pounds of fur she’d just acquired.

  “Little Guy, this is Lindy Lu,” she said gently, as though speaking with a small child.

  “You expect him to understand English?”

  “No, well, some words, yeah, but mostly I expect him to react to the tone of my voice. I want him as calm as possible so he doesn’t scare her.”

  Why it was important to her that Lindy Lu and Little Guy got along, she didn’t know. Probably because she felt a sense of ownership with both dogs. Cared about them both.

  “You’ve forgiven me, then?”

  Lying on his side, propped up on his elbow, watching the puppies circle each other, Josh spoke to her almost as gently as she’d spoken to the dogs.

  “There’s nothing to forgive,” she said, wishing they could pretend the disaster between them had never happened.

  Josh’s gaze collided with hers. And held on. He studied her so long her throat got dry.

  “Okay. So we’re good?” she asked.

  “That’s up to you.”

  “Why is it up to me?”

  “Because you got the raw end of the deal.”