Must Love Wieners

by Griffin, Casey

  A group of off-duty military boys had hired her to welcome their friend home from active service. Apparently, they thought it would be a good idea to engage her in a bit of friendly hand-to-butt combat. Good thing she had her pistols locked and loaded—with water, that is. The effect was like a cold shower and kept the troops at bay long enough for her to finish her song and make a hasty retreat. Between a waiting room of never-ending patients at the veterinary hospital that morning and the telegram, she was ready for a little fresh air in the park.

  Reaching into her holsters, she pulled the guns out and laid them down on the entrance table. That’s when she noticed the small box of imported chocolates. The little tag on them said: Piper.

  She gasped and did a little happy dance in the foyer. Best tip ever! She wondered if he’d ever left anything like that for Tamara. The thought made her scowl at herself. She wasn’t sure where that had come from, but she shoved it away. The tag said: Piper. The fact that at some point that day he’d been thinking about her when she wasn’t around made her grin wickedly—in a totally professional, noninterested manner. She slid the box into her bag. Her day was looking up.

  “Sophie!” she called out.

  A light padding of paws on the hardwood announced her approach down the hall. Colin and Sophie gave their usual kisses hello. When they were finished, they both turned to Piper expectantly as if to say, Okay, we’re ready to be entertained now. Dance, monkey. Dance.

  “I need to change first; then we’ll go to the park,” she said.

  She turned to head for the washroom and immediately got a faceful of silk tie. She yelped in surprise and jumped back. It was Aiden. Leaning against the wall, she laid a hand over her pounding chest, which was covered with nothing more than a camo sports bra.

  “Sorry,” Aiden said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She heaved a sigh. “I’ll forgive you, since you live here and all. I just didn’t know you’d be at home.”

  “I had some extra time between meetings this afternoon and thought I’d run home for a late lunch.” He seemed a bit edgy, like he had at the center the night before, like he was afraid of being caught. Again, his attractive assistant, Tamara, popped into her head, and she wondered if that could be why.

  “But now that we’re both here, maybe I’ll join you for your walk. If you don’t mind.”

  “You’re the boss,” she said.

  “But I should have made it clear before. There’s a strict no guns policy in my house.” He pointed at the fluorescent pink water pistols.

  She laughed. “I just finished a telegram job. I was about to change.”

  “Oh, please. Don’t change on my account. In fact, I would feel much safer being escorted by a soldier.”

  “I don’t think you need protection from all the poodles.”

  “No, but there’s something about a girl in uniform.” His edge had smoothed right out. A little too smooth, she thought as his eyes roamed over her tight midriff.

  She could feel her face turning the same shade as her water pistols. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll go change.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He saluted her. “We can take my vehicle.”

  She gasped in offense. “You don’t want to ride in the classic?”

  “Classic?” He laughed. “I’ll show you a classic.”

  “All right. All right. We’ll take yours then.”

  Piper stepped into the bathroom to change out of her fatigues and into her civvies. She was glad she brought something more flattering to wear that day. The breezy bohemian tunic and tight yoga shorts would keep her cool in the hot sun, but they were cute enough to show off her assets. Not that she cared what Aiden thought, or anything. Nope, not at all. But as Zoe would say, it would show the boy what he was missing out on.

  She stepped back into the hall and noticed that Aiden had also made a wardrobe change. He’d swapped his usual business attire for a plaid shirt, cargo shorts, and tennis shoes. The ensemble was clearly new.

  “I see you took my advice about the uniform,” she said.

  He gave a self-conscious tug on his shirt. “I haven’t had a chance to put the wrinkles in yet.”

  “Looks good.” She tried not to notice his toned arms peeking beneath his short sleeves as she headed for the foyer.

  “Actually, we’ll head out through the garage.” He nodded toward a door in the hall. But when he opened it and flicked on the light, she thought “garage” was a bit of an understatement. It was more like an airplane hangar.

  Her eyes widened. She took in the line of cars that could have been a museum for the evolution of the automobile. “You know, some people collect stamps or postcards.”

  “Well, I prefer e-mail, and I’ve been too busy to travel much except for business.”

  “So cars, then.” She nodded. “Naturally.”

  She suddenly recalled the last time her mom tricked her into talking to her brother. He’d boasted about the classic car he’d been eyeing and she imagined he dreamed of having a garage just like Aiden’s one day. The collection before her became a little less impressive.

  “I only own these five. Well, eight if you count the ones I keep at the cabin.”

  Only eight. Meanwhile, she could barely keep the one running. Was he deliberately showing off with his nonchalance, or did he really not notice? And something told her the word “cabin” didn’t quite cut it, either.

  Sophie and Colin hopped down the wooden steps. Toenails clicking on the treated cement floor, they disappeared between the cars to explore. Piper followed them to take a closer look. She strolled by the first one.

  “Jaguar Roadster,” she said. “Nineteen-fifty…” She turned to him.

  “Five. E-Type,” he said. “Good guess.”

  “Good car.” She pointed to the next one, painted a sparkling copper. “Nineteen-seventies Porsche.”

  His eyebrows shot up, clearly impressed. “Nineteen-seventy-six, nine-eleven turbo. You’re not bad at this.”

  “I told you I like classics. I just can’t afford a real one. My dad used to own a 1968 Shelby. He preferred domestic.”

  “He has good taste. I prefer imports myself.”

  “I noticed.” Three more cars sparkled at the other end, one of which was a Ferrari from the seventies. The next space held his BMW, which she assumed he drove as an everyday car. If every day you were stinking, filthy rich and didn’t mind if people knew it. What was wrong with a good ol’ reliable Ford Escort? Or maybe a Hyundai Accent, if he liked imports?

  “So which one are we taking?”

  He nodded to the last in line, a silver convertible with a red leather interior. “The Aston Martin DB five. Nineteen-sixty-three.” He grinned at her like a ten-year-old showing off his shiny new bicycle. “Left-hand drive. Only nineteen of these were ever made.”

  “Oh, if we must.” She managed to feign indifference for a whole two seconds before her expression cracked and her grin matched his. Okay, so it was a bit better than an Accent.

  Aiden whistled for Sophie, who click-clacked her way across the cement floor to him. He folded an old blanket and laid it across the backseat. Plucking her up, he set her on top of it, followed by Colin.

  Piper cringed at the sight of their tiny feet padding all over the blanket, their nails digging in. “Will the blanket be enough to protect the leather?”

  “Oh sure. Besides, things are meant to be used. They’re more fun to play with than to put behind glass and stare at. Or why bother owning them?” He slipped around to her side of the car and popped the door open for her. “My lady,” he said in a mock serious tone.

  She slid into the passenger seat and tucked her legs in while he shut the door. Crawling behind the wheel, he turned the key. The engine purred to life. His foot nudged the accelerator, pumping it a few times. The room swelled with the rich growl, and his smile widened.

  Piper watched him, sitting in his casual clothes, relaxed and enjoying his man toy. She couldn’t
imagine herself fitting into a life like his, into the same world. What did a guy like Aiden know about hardships—besides the loss of his father, she amended.

  Everything had been handed to Aiden: his money, his house, his company. How could he relate to her, to appreciate the things she’d accomplished? No matter how small they might seem to him, they were big to her. Monstrous even. He’d said he owned eight cars like he was referring to pairs of socks.

  No, someone like Tamara seemed better suited for him. Polite, well mannered, sophisticated, and clearly comfortable when surrounded by all that luxury. But as Aiden slipped on his sunglasses and flashed her a grin, she thought she could at least sit back and enjoy the view.

  He tapped the button to raise the garage door and backed the car out. They wound down the sloping streets of Sea Cliff toward the Presidio, the wind whipping past them. Piper released her hair from its messy bun and shook out her locks.

  Tilting her face to the sun, she put on her sunglasses and soaked up the view. It felt good to have the wind blow through her hair. No air-conditioning necessary. Sophie and Colin seemed to be enjoying it as well. They sat on the bench seat, their noses stuck over the sides of the car, sniffing the air.

  “So this is a classic, huh?”

  Aiden seemed pleased by her reaction. “Told you.”

  “So I would have thought a big shot like you would be too busy to come home for lunch.”

  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, I managed to sneak away. But don’t tell on me. My boss is a real slave driver.” He rolled his eyes.

  “Tell me about it. Mine is exactly the same. He actually makes me show up for work at some point, and he leaves me chocolate.”

  “What an asshole.”

  “I know, right?” she said. “Thanks, by the way.”

  “Just trying to keep your psychotic tendencies at bay. I have to be careful, with you bringing guns into my house.”

  “A girl has to protect herself,” she said. “It’s a dangerous city. My taxi was stolen the other day, you know. Right from under my nose.”

  “I know how you feel, but I have my guard dog to protect me now.” He rolled to a stop at a red light and glanced over his shoulder. “Isn’t that right, Sophie?”

  In response, she leaned on the back of his seat and gave his ear a sloppy kiss.

  “That’s some killer you got there.” Piper laughed. “So was this your dad’s car? Or is restoring classics an interest of your own?”

  “It started as my hobby, but we worked on it together. We rebuilt the engine years ago.”

  “You rebuilt an engine?” she said in disbelief.

  “Hey, you don’t have to say it like that. I’m not just a pretty face, you know. I’ve got depth.”

  “Depth?”

  “Yeah,” he said, going for complete seriousness. “I’m like the ocean.”

  “An ocean that rebuilds engines.”

  “Yes. Here, I’ll prove it.”

  Reaching over, he grabbed Piper’s hand and placed it on the stick shift. He covered it with his own. She inhaled as her nerve endings went into overdrive, delighting in the warmth of his palm, the gentle sweep of his fingers, the unexpected intimacy of the touch.

  The light turned green and he took off. He shifted from first to second. When he tried to take it into third, he had to jiggle it a little to get it home.

  “Did you feel that?” he asked.

  Oh, she certainly felt something.

  “After we rebuilt the engine, we took it for a spin and it was jumping out of gear, so I had to replace the cogs in the gearbox. It was my first attempt and I ended up misaligning them.” His smiled faded as he turned the next corner. “That was right before my father passed away. I’ve never gotten around to fixing it.”

  “Well, it’s still pretty amazing,” she said. “Very James Bond. It’s almost as nice as mine.”

  “Almost,” he agreed. She noticed that he still had his hand clasped around hers over the shifter, cupping it as he moved it into fourth, and she wasn’t in a rush to remove it.

  “So did you buy all the other cars yourself?”

  “All handpicked. My dad wasn’t a car collector,” he said. “That was all my addiction. After he passed, he left me the house, but everything in it is mine. I had to make it my own, you know? Otherwise, I would have felt like I was living with his ghost.”

  She remembered when her mom had to sell their farm after Piper’s dad died. Piper would have done anything to stay there. Not just because she loved the animals, but because everything reminded her of him. It kept him with her. From the feel of the horse brush in her hand right down to the smell of the fresh hay she used to help him stack. Even now, years later, over the scent of brine wafting in from the bay and the fumes from the old engine chugging away she could smell it. For just a moment, it brought her back to him.

  She wondered if her brother had come around to help out, would they have been able to keep the farm? But she didn’t like to go down that path. What was done was done. Ethan had his own life to live and decisions to make. She knew he wasn’t to blame. Her father still would have died, either way, and they probably still would have lost the farm. But at the time, Ethan couldn’t have known that. It was his apathy that she resented, his reluctance to take action to help his family.

  “You don’t think keeping some of his stuff would have made you feel close to him?” she asked Aiden. “Like a part of him was still here?”

  “Not for me,” he said. “I don’t think things make the person. Everything I need in order to feel close to him is up here.” He tapped the side of his head. “He taught me everything I know. He was a good businessman. Very old-school, so some of my business ideals might seem a bit archaic because of it, but he was successful, so he must have been doing something right. And now everything I don’t know I fake.”

  She narrowed her eyes playfully. “I knew you were a fraud.”

  “Yup. I learned that from him too. Confidence was important when I took over as CEO of the company.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Five years. When I was twenty-five. Everyone looked at me like I was some dumb privileged kid who didn’t know what was going on.”

  “And did you?”

  “Hell, no. But you know what they say. Nothing in life worth having comes easy. For years I worked twelve-hour days, seven days a week, until I got good at the job.” He said it with a weary acceptance, making Piper rethink her earlier assumption that he didn’t have to work hard for anything.

  It’s not like she knew any other rich people personally, other than her brother. Could she have been drawing parallels that weren’t really there? Now that she thought about it, Ethan was more about showmanship than taking pride in his work and wouldn’t ever work on his own car. He’d drive it to the nearest shop and toss the keys to the mechanic like he was Mario Andretti.

  “So that’s what you did to change everyone’s mind? Worked your tail off for it?”

  “That, and in the meantime, when it comes to confidence, you fake it till you make it. He always said that. My dad.” He had a wistful expression on his face, that one cheek dimpling. “That, and if you’re ever feeling caught off guard or have lost control over a situation you can’t go wrong with a good, firm handshake. It’s like a reflex now. A nervous twitch.”

  “So I’ve noticed.” She bit her lip as he glanced her way, but if he noticed she was teasing he didn’t say anything.

  So what did that mean? That she caught him off guard? That she made him feel out of control? The idea sent a giddy wave through her. At the next intersection, she had the urge to take off her seat belt and climb over to his side of the car, to straddle him and kiss him already. It was just a kiss, after all. Not like she was marrying the guy.

  But instead, she took the opportunity to pull her hand away and play with the dogs in the back. She reminded herself of all the reasons she’d been reluctant to go down that path—although the specific re
asons weren’t coming to her at the moment. You’re his dog walker, Piper told herself. This is just business.

  And she hoped that one day soon she’d believe that.

  “So, did it work?” she asked him. “The faking it?”

  “I’m still learning every day. But I have a lot of good, experienced people around me to draw from. Like Larry Williams, my Chief Operations Officer, my right-hand man. He’s been with the company from the start. I couldn’t have made it without him.” He glanced over at her. “You would have seen him in the meeting the day we met.”

  “Oh, I’ve pretty much erased that afternoon from my memory. I don’t even recall which meeting you’re talking about.”

  “Not at all? So when did we officially meet then?”

  She thought for a moment. “I guess it was later that day at the center.”

  He peered over his sunglasses at her, cheek dimpling. “Is that before or after you were molested by a German shepherd?”

  “Scratch that. I’ve forgotten that entire day.”

  “Oh, but that was a good day,” he said. “I liked that day.”

  “Why? Because you enjoyed my suffering? Is that how you get Aiden Caldwell’s attention? By falling flat on your face and making a complete ass of yourself?” Her cheeks started to burn, so she tilted her head away to stare out the passenger side.

  “Hey.” When she didn’t look over, he shook her shoulder playfully, trying to get her attention. “Oh, come on.” He laughed. “It was funny.”

  She groaned. “I was humiliated.”

  “You were memorable.” And by the way he said it, she knew it was a compliment.

  Piper was memorable.

  There were worse things. She supposed that’s what made him follow her out of his building in the first place and what made him ask her to be his dog walker. Maybe that’s even what kept him walking in the park with her until his late lunch “hour” turned into two, then three, until she had to drag herself away because she was going to be late for a telegram gig. And maybe that’s what made him available for lunch the next day. And the next.