by Julie Benson
“My dad was kinda that way when Mom died.”
“But he got better, right?” After Jess nodded, Avery added, “Reed will, too.”
Jess dunked the roller in paint and moved farther down the wall. “Did you two ever date?”
Avery froze, trying to decide how to respond to the awkward question. Dated hardly described their past relationship. He was her first love. The first man she’d imagined spending her life with.
“Yes, we did, but we broke up when we went to college.”
“I think he still likes you.”
No, Jess, don’t say that. Anything but that.
Avery almost asked, Really, you think so?
Lord, I’ve been transported back to junior high. She remembered how she and her friends speculated about what guys liked what girls. Next thing she’d be asking Jess if Reed talked about her and what he said.
“Surely he’s got a girlfriend in California.”
The roller stopped. Paint dripped onto the grass at Jess’s feet as she stared at Avery.
Now I’ve done it. She thinks I like him, too.
“If he’s got a girlfriend, they don’t talk very much.” Jess resumed painting. “He’s on the phone all the time, but it doesn’t ever sound like he’s talking about anything but business.”
That answer left Avery far happier than it should have. She had to end this conversation before that gleam in Jess’s eyes got any brighter.
“Hey, what are you two talking about?”
Avery glanced over her shoulder and spotted Reed walking toward them. “We’re talking about how attached you are to your phone.”
Jess laughed. “You’re on the phone more than anyone I know.”
As he strode toward them, looking so sexy and confident, Avery realized how easy it would be to care for him again. She had to get out of here while she still possessed a sliver of willpower. “I’ll leave you to finish up here. I’m off to see who I can tap for a donation.”
Coward, the little voice inside her taunted as she walked away.
* * *
THAT NIGHT AS REED AND JESS cleaned up after dinner he said, “Were you and Avery really talking about how much I’m on the phone?”
“And other stuff. She said we’ll need to put another coat of paint on the wall.” Jess picked up a plate and placed it in the dishwasher.
“We can take care of that tomorrow afternoon. Did she say anything else? Anything about me?” Right after the words left his mouth, he cringed. Living with a teenager was rotting his brain. He sounded like a love-struck tenth grader.
Before Jess could answer the oven timer went off. He went to shut it off, and noticed the oven wasn’t on. “What’s the timer for?”
“Dad said I could Skype him at six o’clock tonight.”
He waved toward the door. “Go. I’ll finish cleaning up. Tell your dad I said hello.”
“I will.” Jess tossed the words over her shoulder as she darted out of the room.
The kitchen back in order, Reed returned to his room and booted up his laptop. There was a message from his lawyer waiting in his inbox. Surprisingly, threatening to go public with Colt’s story had failed to change the association’s stance, forcing his lawyer to contact the media. Apparently a reporter, Sylvia Parsons from WTLV, First Coast News in Jacksonville, was waiting for his call. Reed glanced at his watch, adjusted for the time difference and figured since it was only eight in Florida, he might as well call now.
“I heard about your niece’s situation, but I wanted to talk with you to see if the story is something we’d be interested in featuring,” Sylvia said in a smooth, made-for-TV voice. “I have to admit I’m a little confused. Since you’re able to stay with her in Colorado, why do you need the association to make an exception for your niece to live with her grandparents?”
She needs to stay with them because I’m incompetent. I’ll mess things up so bad she’ll spend the rest of her life on a therapist’s couch processing the nightmare.
“My brother’s original plan was that his in-laws would come to Colorado if he were deployed. Unfortunately, his mother in-law recently broke her hip and needs to stay close to her doctors. Because I’m a bachelor, I was the backup plan. What do I know about raising children?” He paused and tried to loosen up. He sounded as dry as a corporate annual report. He needed to get Sylvia to step into Jess’s shoes. “Think back to when you were fourteen. Can you imagine living with your bachelor uncle?”
The reporter laughed. “Are you saying dealing with a teenager is tough?”
“Don’t get me wrong. My niece is wonderful, but Jess would be much better off living with her grandparents. They’ve raised a child. They’re better equipped to nurture and guide her. Jess needs the stability they can provide.”
A moment passed and then Sylvia said, “This is exactly the kind of human-interest story our viewers want to hear about. I’ll contact your niece’s grandparents and the association for their take on the issue. May I call you if I have further questions after I speak with them?”
“Please do.”
Sylvia ended the call by thanking him for his time and said she’d let him know when they planned to air the story.
Reed guessed it would never make it to air because the association would buckle after talking to the reporter. No one wanted to look as if they weren’t supporting the country’s servicemen and women and their families.
Maybe the day hadn’t been a total loss after all. Jess would be better off with her grandparents, and he could return to his life and his business. That was good news. Wasn’t it?
Chapter Seven
Since Reed and Jess had finished painting the exterior wall the day before, today would be their first day as official volunteers, and Avery was out to set Reed straight. Again, yesterday, he’d strolled into her office to make business calls, send faxes and use her computer. Each time he assured her he’d be only a couple of minutes, and somehow he’d left her feeling that she couldn’t tell him no.
Today would be different. She’d be firm but polite. The shelter’s fund-raiser was only weeks away and she couldn’t concentrate on her work with him popping in and out of her office like a Whac-A-Mole. She’d also make it clear that now that he was an actual volunteer, she expected him to give the shelter his full attention, unless a genuine, bona fide emergency came up at his company.
When the pair arrived, she greeted them as she would any other volunteers on their first day, ignoring how great Reed looked in his worn jeans, tight Stanford T-shirt and his cowboy boots. She ran through the shelter rules and then paused and looked at Reed. “When you’re here, I expect your full attention to be on what you’re doing. That means, unless it’s something that absolutely can’t wait, we prefer you not make any personal calls. Are we clear on that?”
“Got it,” Reed replied, though she could see in his gaze that he was already distracted.
“So what do you want us doing today?” Jess asked.
“I’ll give you a choice. You can either clean the kennels or the cat boxes or bathe the dogs. What’ll it be?” She bit her lip to keep from smiling as she waited for Reed’s reaction.
She felt a twinge of guilt at asking him and Jess to do some of the less pleasant jobs, but the shelter was like any other business: those with seniority got the plum assignments.
“That’s your idea of a choice? Haven’t you heard of assessing volunteer strengths and assigning them tasks that best utilize their skills?” While his expression remained calm, a note of distaste crept into his voice. “Don’t you have anything more managerial that needs to be done? Or maybe we could walk the dogs?”
She knew his type. He thought volunteering at the shelter would be a sweet gig that consisted of playing with kittens and walking dogs. He was one of those volunteers who turned
squeamish or arrogant when it came to the less desirable tasks that needed to be done.
“You haven’t even been volunteering five minutes, and you’re questioning me.” Avery paused, shoved her hands into her pockets, and struggled to control her rising frustration. She dealt with opinionated volunteers all the time and had developed a great repertoire of phrases to gently get her point across without offending anyone. She could manage him—and she could build a rocket ship in her spare time and fly to the moon for her next vacation, too.
“I’m sure you have some great ideas on how you could help the shelter, but the new manager at the Pet Palace is stopping by tomorrow morning. If he likes what he sees, the company could become a generous sponsor for the Pet Walk. That means today everyone’s working on getting the animals and the shelter looking their best. Everyone’s cleaning.”
Reed turned to his niece, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “No way am I cleaning cat boxes.”
“What do we have to do to clean the kennels?” Jess asked.
“You scoop up the poop and hose them down.” Avery sneaked a peek at Reed.
His eyes widened and his jaw tightened for a minute before he regained his control. Avery bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing. Turning the tables on him and issuing orders could become her favorite pastime.
“That doesn’t sound great, either,” Reed snapped. “How about we sweep and dust the place?”
Avery opened her mouth to give Reed a lecture on who was in charge at the shelter but stopped. You’d think she and Reed were the two teenagers the way they jockeyed for control.
“What is it with you two?” Jess waved her hand between the adults, and her irritation slammed into Avery. “In the interest of world peace, I’m choosing. We’re bathing dogs today. I bathe Thor all the time.” The teenager faced her uncle, shaking her index finger at him. “If you say one word about it, Uncle Reed, we’ll clean cat boxes, and I’ll make you scoop the poop.”
“I guess she told us.” Avery laughed, relieved that the teenager had broken the tension. How did Reed so easily get on her nerves?
“Bathing dogs it is,” Reed said.
Avery motioned for Reed and Jess to follow her. “Let me show you the grooming room.”
She gave them a quick tour of the rest of the offices, as well as the dog kennels and cat area, and then she took them inside a small room that housed plenty of cupboards, a refrigerator and a large metal tub. “One of our dog-walker volunteers will bring in a dog.”
Avery explained the process, how to work the sprayer and where towels were located. Then she asked if they had any questions.
“Jess and I can handle it. How hard can it be?” Reed flashed her a confident smile.
Avery bit her lip. She couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say in twenty minutes when he was drenched and covered in fur. Avery pointed to the plastic aprons hanging on pegs along the wall. “You’ll want to put one of those on. It’ll keep you from getting completely soaked. I’ll check back in a while. Wish me luck. I’m talking to the head of Griffin’s network to ask for a donation.”
“What’s your strategy?” Reed asked.
“I’m going to tell him about the shelter, our current problem and ask for a donation.” What did he think she was going to do? Call up a network executive, chat with him for a minute and then ask him to make cookies for the bake sale they planned to have next month?
He shook his head, as if she’d committed some ridiculous mistake like going into Starbucks and ordering soda. “That’s not a plan for success.”
Avery noticed Jess’s fist clenched around the apron she held. Her gaze darted back and forth between the adults. She’s waiting for round two to start. Jess’s life didn’t need any more turmoil. “Jess, will you go see Emma, my volunteer coordinator? Her office is next to mine. Tell her I said she’s to take you to meet Mrs. Hartman. She’ll be bringing dogs to you to bathe.”
After glancing between the two adults again, probably to make sure they wouldn’t come to blows while she was gone, Jess left.
“We have to find a way to get along,” Avery said once the door closed.
“I thought we got along pretty well the other night at Halligan’s.”
Reed’s harsh expression left no doubt about what he meant. Heat raced through her. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to channel the energy darting through her body into confidence.
The other night was a mistake. She couldn’t force the words past the lump in her throat. Despite knowing better, she couldn’t think of what had happened between them that way. Not when she’d felt alive in a way she hadn’t in years. “That was a social setting. This is my business. I can’t have volunteers questioning every decision I make.”
“I asked a couple of questions. What’s the big deal?”
* * *
SHE WANTED TO PROVE she was in charge. Reed should’ve realized that the moment he walked in the door today. The challenging gleam in her eye when she’d offered him the unappetizing choice of tasks had been the first tip-off. Then she’d stood there and explained how to wash a dog, as if it was rocket science and he was a grade-school kid.
Anyone could handle washing a dog. Get the dog wet. Throw on the shampoo. Scrub. Rinse. Simple.
“I’m used to being in charge. Taking orders has never sat well with me.” Part of the baggage his father had left him with.
“Can’t you see how much it bothers Jess when you do that? Did her parents fight a lot before her mom left?”
Had Colt’s marriage been like their parents’, where the fights rattled the rafters and occurred more often than the weather changed? He remembered how those fights had left him with knots in his stomach and scared to leave his room for fear of what he’d find.
He hadn’t considered how his and Avery’s disagreements would affect Jess. He hadn’t seen them as any big deal. He should’ve realized his niece would see them differently, but he hadn’t. How did Avery always see what he missed? Again, he’d been clueless, while Avery understood. Just another example of what a lousy father he’d be.
“I don’t know much about Colt’s marriage. He never talked about it, but things can’t have been too good. She was having an affair and ran off.”
“I’m worried that us not getting along reminds her of what happened between her parents.”
Reed remembered how he and his brother had felt as they hid in their room trying to block out the angry words that their parents hurled at each other. But his situation with Avery wasn’t the same. They weren’t married. Still, there was definitely something between them. Something strong that they both fought against, and damned if he knew what to do about it. But he could keep Jess from getting caught in the crossfire.
“What’s going on with us? We never used to argue like this.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, uncertain of how to continue.
“We’re different people than we were in high school.” Avery resisted the urge to pick at her fingernail. “I care about Jess, and I don’t want our disagreements to hurt her. I’ll make an effort to go easier on you, if you’ll work on questioning my decisions less.”
He nodded. “It may not have seemed like it, but I want to help. I just went about it the wrong way. I thought I could give you a new perspective on approaching executives for donations. Charities ask me for money all the time. To convince a major corporate player to write you a big check you have to tell him what it’ll do for his business.”
“This isn’t the first time I’ve done this.”
“Small-business owners are more tied to the community than major national corporate types. Why should a global company care about a little animal shelter in Estes Park?”
“Because the host of one of their most popular reality shows cares about it.”
He stepped toward her, not sure
of what he intended to do, but needing to erase the censure on her face. “Why won’t you let me help you where I can do the most good?”
He wasn’t sure what he’d done, but he’d made another mistake. Just as he’d done with Jess. What was the deal? He’d never had this much trouble with women before.
“What makes you think you can breeze in here after all these years and give me advice? Worry about your own life. Mine’s off-limits.” Though her voice remained level and calm, her irritation came through loud and clear.
Her words cut through him. His own life? What did his consist of? He had his business. Nothing else, except for a brother and a niece he saw briefly on major holidays. Other than Colt and Jess, who would care if he stepped into the street tomorrow and got hit by a bus?
That was the way he’d chosen since he left Estes Park. Why did the fact sour his stomach now?
Because Avery saw him and his life as lacking, and pitied him for it.
Instead of addressing her comment, he turned the conversation back to fund-raising. “When you call these executives, don’t ask them if they want to donate. Give them a number and ask if you can count on them for that amount.”
Before Avery could respond, the door opened and Jess returned with a scraggly, wire-haired dog of an indeterminate color. “Mrs. Hartman said to keep a close eye on Baxter because he’s an escape artist.”
Avery strolled over to the dog and scratched him behind the ear. “He’s been known to wiggle out of his collar.”
“She also told me the people who adopted him returned him,” Jess said, her face filled with concern. “She said he was here for months before.”
“He kept getting out of the backyard. The couple who adopted him wanted an outside dog. Baxter wasn’t a good fit for them.” Avery scratched the mutt under his chin. “We just have to find the right family.”
