Or mine.
She shivered slightly. She’d been over the incident a hundred—no, two hundred—times, and she couldn’t categorically state that she’d made the right decision. Her choice to care for Greg Fulton had been technically and medically right. Accurate to the nth degree. But it had resulted in Aleah’s death. What was right about that?
Was it her fault? Or was Aleah’s time up? Was she meant to die no matter what, or was Sophie so arrogant as to believe, like many doctors did, that medicine was the ultimate decision maker? That their actions were the sole arbiters between life and death? Sophie was afraid she’d be asking herself those questions forever.
Sophie had a twofold purpose for meeting with Jack. The first was Frenchie. Sophie was convinced the little dog would help Jack mend his broken heart. Frenchie needed affection, and after witnessing Jack’s reaction to Aleah’s death, Sophie believed he had a lot of love to give. Secondly, she needed to talk to him about insurance for the Alliance. Sophie hoped Frenchie would turn down the temperature on Jack’s anger toward her. If Frenchie could help her smooth things over with him personally, maybe he’d be open to providing the umbrella policy they needed.
But deep down, it pained her to think that Jack, a person she held in high esteem, could think so negatively about her. She wanted to be his hero.
* * *
AMBUSH.
It was the only way to deal with Jack, who’d refused to take her calls. Sophie had to pull out all the stops. For Frenchie’s sake, she thought, as she chose a pretty blue-and-white summer dress and a pair of white pumps, letting her thick hair down around her shoulders. The less she looked like a nurse who might remind him of that night in the ER, the better.
As she glossed her lips with a sheen of pink, she wondered if it was possible for Jack to think of her as anyone but a person who brought him pain. The fact that she even cared about his opinion startled her.
Frenchie was sitting on the bath mat, staring up at her with a perky glint in her eye.
“So, little girl, are you ready to meet your new daddy?”
Frenchie barked.
* * *
SOPHIE SAT IN one of the red-and-white upholstered French chairs in Jack’s office, taking in the view of the courthouse and the traffic below as she stroked Frenchie’s head.
Just a few doors down was the Alliance. She pictured Eleanor working with one of her volunteer therapists or holding a meeting with clients. Sophie marveled at how easily someone like Jack could take no notice of what was going on less than a block away. If it weren’t for Greg Fulton and the terrible accident he’d caused, Jack might never have glimpsed the suffering drugs had created in this community. And now here she was, hoping to bring him even closer to the situation.
Sophie knew that Jack alone wasn’t the answer, but if there were a million Jacks across the country, a million Eleanors educating parents, teachers, doctors and addicts, it would all make a difference, wouldn’t it?
Sophie was the tiniest cog in this monstrous wheel, but each effort she made was important. She had to believe that. She did believe that.
Melanie walked up to Sophie. “He’s finishing up an important phone call right now, so it’ll be a few minutes. Can I get you another cup of coffee?”
Sophie glanced at the china cup and saucer she held. She wondered if that was one of Katia’s ideas. No Styrofoam. No paper. Not a mug. It reminded her of her mother’s house. Family. And it gave her comfort. She smiled at Melanie. “I’m fine, thanks. But it’s good coffee.”
“I like it, too. Katia talked Maddie Barzonni into sharing her beans with us.”
“Maddie should sell them by the pound,” Sophie offered.
“She does, but only in Chicago.” Melanie leaned in conspiratorially. “Maddie doesn’t want to take business away from Scott Abbot. He sells his beans, too, you know.”
Sophie was again struck by the closeness between Katia, Maddie and other people in town. For so long, Sophie had been caught up in her world of surgery, her father’s cancer and helping her mother and grandmother. That and too many unimportant dates with men whose names she often couldn’t remember.
In less than a year, she’d started seeing just about everything in a new light. Her town, her friends, her job...even her family. She’d always cherished them, but they were vastly more important to her now than they had been.
Maybe I’m growing up. Finally.
“What about this little one?” Melanie asked, reaching out to pet Frenchie’s head. “Can I get her some water?”
“I brought a dish and a bottle for her.” Sophie smiled. “She should be fine. Thanks for asking.”
Melanie sighed. “She’s adorable. What my kids wouldn’t do for a dog like her.” She straightened up. “But my husband is allergic.”
“What a shame.”
“You’re telling me.” Melanie laughed.
Just then Jack stepped out of his office and spotted them across the room. Today he wore a dark navy suit, white shirt, navy tie with white dots and black dress shoes. Though he glared at her as he approached, she couldn’t help thinking she’d never seen a more handsome man in her life.
“Sophie,” he said, his voice hovering just above a growl. “What are you doing here?” He shot Melanie an accusing gaze.
“She doesn’t have an appointment,” Melanie began.
He pointed at Frenchie. “Who’s your friend?” His voice softened.
Sophie took it as a sign. She stood instantly. “Please, Jack. Don’t blame Melanie, it’s not her fault. If you have another appointment, I understand. I wanted to talk to you about something in private, if I may.”
He consulted his watch. “I have fifteen minutes but that’s all. If you tell me what this is about we could schedule—”
“I’ll take the fifteen minutes,” Sophie interjected quickly, switching Frenchie to her left arm. She wasn’t about to give him a chance to dismiss her and never call back. Plus, she was afraid she might not have the courage to face him again.
Jack ground his jaw. “Fine. Let’s go into my office.” He stood back and politely gestured toward it.
Sophie smiled at him, but when he shot back with a look so cold it could flash freeze small animals, she shielded Frenchie with her hand and wiped the expression off her face. She marched through the door like it was the principal’s office in elementary school.
He sat behind his desk, folded his hands in his lap and stared at her.
Sophie gingerly took a seat. Jack was impeccable. Not a dark hair out of place. Gold cuff links on his shirt. This imposing man couldn’t have been further from the vulnerable patient she’d treated less than six weeks ago. Still, there were signs that there was more beneath this stern, fastidious appearance. Sophie noticed several paintings on the walls by Isabelle Hawks. Sophie recognized her fairy and water sprite paintings from working a booth with her at the Summer Festival. Beneath each piece was a tiny price sticker. Jack was helping Isabelle sell her art.
“Nice paintings,” she said, trying to break the silence.
“Fourteen minutes, Sophie. Not a second longer.”
Sophie felt a rumble of fear in her stomach. She forced a pleasant smile. “Jack, I’m here to change your life.”
“You already did that, remember?” he said icily, but Sophie felt his broken heart through the cold splinters.
She’d been dead-on. Frenchie was just what Jack needed.
“A friend of mine entrusted this precious little Yorkie-Poo to me, hoping I’d find her a home.” Sophie pinned Jack with her eyes. “That would be you, Jack. Your home needs Frenchie.”
Jack nearly spat. “You’re out of your mind!”
“I’m not. Frenchie is homeless. You have all that space, that gorgeous view and no one to share it with. Frenchie isn’t a bother at al
l,” Sophie cooed as she peered into Frenchie’s upturned face and ink-black eyes. Sophie smiled at the dog.
At that moment Frenchie bounded out of Sophie’s lap and scampered over to Jack. She tapped his shoe, then backed away, sizing him up. With a wiggle of her short tail, she bent her back legs and sprang smack dab onto Jack’s lap.
“What?”
Before Jack could say another word, Frenchie had skipped up Jack’s middle to his shoulder and rested her tiny legs on his chest so she could lick his face.
“She likes you!” Sophie exclaimed with delight. “Oh, Jack. She doesn’t do that for just anybody.”
“What about you?”
“Okay. Me. But that’s all,” Sophie admitted.
Frenchie kept licking, and Jack gently put his hands around her.
“She’s awfully thin.”
“I know.”
Jack laughed. “It tickles.” He laughed again.
Sophie felt her heart open, expand and welcome the sound of Jack’s laughter.
Jack grew serious. “You’re sure everything’s all right?”
“I’m fine,” Sophie answered before realizing Jack had no idea what had just happened to her. What had happened? Something. Everything. But the moment had been so elusive, she wasn’t sure. What she did know was that Jack was falling in love—with Frenchie.
“No, the dog. I mean, has she been eating?”
“She’s a Yorkie-Poo and only supposed to weigh six or seven pounds. But I also think she’s a bit on the slight side.”
“Well,” he said with a tinge of accusation just as Frenchie leaped up and licked his bottom lip.
Lucky girl, Sophie thought.
“What I meant was, have you checked her out?”
“Checked?”
“Like with the vet? Has she had her shots? Been wormed? All these things are important.”
“And you know this because...”
“I had dogs when I was growing up. My sister has a golden retriever. Older than Sarah’s Beau.”
“I haven’t had time to get an appointment,” Sophie replied. “She’s only been with me a couple of days.”
Jack held Frenchie up in the air and wiggled his nose against hers. “She’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” He frowned and shoved her toward Sophie. “But I can’t take her. I work all the time. I wouldn’t want to leave her alone.”
“Who said anything about leaving her alone?” Sophie moved to the edge of her chair and rested her right hand on his desk. She took a deep breath for courage. “You could bring her to work.”
“Here?” He shook his head vigorously. “No way.”
“Why not? You’re the boss. You make the rules.”
“I’d have to ask the landlord.”
“Sharon? I already called her. There’s no stipulation against dogs. Just a pet deposit. I’ll pay it.” Sophie smiled brightly at Jack.
“I can’t take the responsibility.”
Sophie’s eyes rounded. “I never thought I’d hear those words from you.” She guffawed. “Boy, I wish I had that one on tape. You take on all kinds of responsibility.”
Jack pulled Frenchie back to his chest and started scratching her behind her ears. Frenchie preened. Tilted her head to the side so that Jack could rub the right side of her neck. “You can’t just go around making assumptions about people and their lives, Sophie. You should have thought this through.”
“I did, Jack.” She moved even closer and lowered her voice. “You see, Frenchie has no one but us. She’s a rescue to begin with. One of the clients of the Alliance gave her to me...”
“You mean an addict?”
Sophie was undeterred. “He needs help, Jack. Yes. He has a disease, but he’s a smart guy and knows he can’t care for Frenchie the way she should be. She needs you. She needs love. Just look at you. You can’t take your hands off her.”
Jack looked down. He’d cradled Frenchie in his left arm like a newborn and had been scratching her throat. The little dog was nearly asleep.
Silence.
“Jack,” Sophie continued. “Please don’t take your anger out on little Frenchie. She’s an angel, but I can’t leave her all day and night when I’m in surgery or the ER. You could bring her to work with you. She doesn’t like being alone. I bought a little seat for her to ride in the car.”
“You had her two days and you bought a car seat?”
Sophie’s smile was soft. “I didn’t want her to get hurt when I drove her to the store. I want her to be safe.”
Jack sighed. “And you’ll give me the car seat?”
“Sure.”
“Well, I’m not sure,” he replied.
“Tell you what,” Sophie suggested. “Let’s walk her down to Grandy’s Groomers and have her checked out. We can get an appointment at the vet for shots and a checkup. Then we can go to the pet store to buy whatever else she needs. I’ll pay.”
Frenchie stretched in Jack’s arms, sticking her paws straight out and touching the side of Jack’s chest, next to his heart.
“Deal.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
GRANDY’S GROOMERS WAS next door to Maddie Barzonni’s café. Sarah had told Jack that she took Beau to Grandy’s on Friday afternoons. Beau was a big golden retriever with a penchant for digging. Jack was certain Frenchie wouldn’t need grooming more than once a month.
Grandy suspected Frenchie was about two years old. She was underfed, but after inspection, Grandy pronounced her healthy. Still, she agreed she should be checked out by a veterinarian to make sure she didn’t have worms or any other conditions. Grandy recommended a vet and gave Jack the number, then Jack set an appointment for a grooming on Monday. Even without a bath and haircut, Jack pronounced Frenchie terminally cute.
Afterward, Jack, Sophie and Frenchie drove straight to the pet store.
“I’ll get the cart,” Jack said as Sophie carried Frenchie into the store.
“Hey, would you look at this? The dogs can wander freely. No leashes,” Jack said. Sophie set Frenchie down and a wirehaired terrier sidled up to her for a sniff. Frenchie barked and hid behind Jack’s legs.
“Okay. In the cart you go,” Jack declared. Sophie laughed.
That tinkling laugh. He wished she wouldn’t do that. It made it harder for him to keep his emotions straight. He’d been very angry with her up until a few hours ago.
Now he was confused with elation, guilt, joy and anxiety. He couldn’t help wondering if Aleah would have liked to have a little dog like Frenchie. He swallowed bitterly. She was so young and her life had ended so needlessly.
“She needs a leash,” Sophie said, interrupting his grim thoughts.
“Yes,” he replied quickly.
“And a collar,” Sophie said. Frenchie put her paws on the rail as if she’d often been in shopping carts.
Jack wondered what Frenchie’s life had been like before she’d come into his. “What’s the name of your...friend...who gave Frenchie to you?”
“Jeremy.”
“Did he have her since she was a puppy?”
“No. All he told me was that he met her while he was a kennel tech in another town.”
“Kennel tech?”
“He scooped poop.” Sophie smiled again, somehow making the fluorescent lighting fade.
How’d she do that?
“I wonder if I could get him a part-time job at Grandy’s,” Sophie mused while squeezing a stuffed hamburger and bun toy.
“Don’t business owners have rules about, er, well...” he began nervously.
“You mean hiring drug users,” she finished for him.
“Yeah. All my employees have to pass a drug test in order to be hired. That’s a huge barrier. Even the idea of it could upset him, make
him feel ashamed. Who knows how he’d react.”
“You’re right, Jack. I should find something else. Like a handyman kind of thing.”
Jack took a deep breath but couldn’t hold back his concern. “Sophie, even a seemingly simple repair could turn into something dangerous if Jeremy...well, you know. He could mis-wire something. Hurt himself with tools or fall from a ladder.”
“I understand your point, Jack, but if we don’t give addicts a chance to become functional again, they lose all hope. Then they never recover.”
“Aleah never got a chance to recover from her injuries,” he said, sadness choking him.
Sophie’s eyes were filled with understanding and compassion. The longer she held his gaze, the more his heart hurt.
“I don’t know,” he said quietly, desperate to change the subject. Obliterate his memories of Aleah.
“I understand.” She cleared her throat and forced a smile. “Let’s go down this aisle.”
They pulled up to the leashes. Sophie picked up a collar with rhinestones and held it in front of Frenchie’s face. Frenchie barked.
Jack groaned. “Oh, no. She likes bling.”
“I’d say so.”
Jack grabbed a leash that was mostly leather with a sprinkling of rhinestones. “I suppose this goes with the collar? I can’t help thinking how I’m gonna look running with her along the trail at the lake.”
“You’ll live.” Sophie smiled softly. “Besides, she’s a tiny dog. You can’t run her like she’s a Rottweiler. You’ll need a pouch.”
“Huh?”
“You know, like a sling—to carry her. She can walk with you, but she won’t be able to keep up with your runs. Plus, when it’s hot, her paws will burn. And if it’s cold, you’ll have to watch her paws, as well.”
“She needs boots?”
“Don’t laugh,” Sophie warned. “Those are in the next aisle.”
Jack took out the list Grandy had given him that specified the kind of food and treats he would need. He added a bed, blanket and pillow to the cart, all in pink and gray plaid—because he liked the pattern, not because it was feminine. He bought several toys, including a stuffed teddy bear bigger than Frenchie, which the little pup immediately claimed possession of by clamping her teeth around the bear’s ear.
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