I debated my options, as my old dog didn’t like getting in and out of the car much. Giving him the choice would make things easier, so I killed the engine, got out of my Mercedes, and opened the door for him. Edgar Allan Paw considered his options, gave a low woof, and oozed out of the vehicle, stretching his old bones while Lenore sniffed the asphalt. I kept a firm grip on their leashes, waited for them to go through their investigatory routine, and clicked my tongue to indicate it was time to go.
After two weeks of effort and a little help from my boss’s sister, I’d taught them to heel at a single click, and the pair walked with me to the front door. It opened before I could ring the bell, and Rick grinned at me. “Come on in. My hosts want to meet you, and Annabel Lee is begging for treats. It’ll be good to introduce the animals inside, too, so we can see if I need to sit in the back with one of the dogs while the other has the front. I brought a seatbelt leash, and I have a spare if you need one.”
“I have three seatbelt leashes, as I’m vain and need my dog to be appropriately colored depending on my mood. I also have a seatbelt harness for Lenore. Edgar Allan Paw is a little tired today, so don’t be surprised if he flops somewhere and takes a nap. Napping is his favorite hobby.”
Rick crouched down to introduce himself to my dog, and after a few sniffs, he earned a lick from my rescue, and even Lenore allowed him to pat her head. “Have you had a vet do his labs and diet?”
“I got the information from my boss’s sister, who is a dog breeder and was working at the shelter where he lived. I have a lot of vet paperwork from her, but I don’t know what any of it actually means. He goes again in six months, and I was told as long as I followed the instructions, he’d be fine. I also got a list of things to watch out for, but that’s been okay so far.”
“Well, he looks healthy as far as I can tell, just old.”
“Yeah. That’s what everyone has been saying. He’s a really good dog.”
“Spoken like a true, biased dog owner. Well done, Edgar Allan Paw. You have successfully enslaved your owner.”
“I have to help him into bed, and he starts crying if I leave him on the floor. I’m whipped.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being whipped by an old dog. Come on in before we slaughter their electric bill. Are you hungry?”
“I was figuring we’d grab something on the way,” I admitted.
“I like the way you think. Road trips are the only time I get to eat quality junk food, so I hope you’re not on a special diet.”
“I am on a seefood diet. I see food, I eat food. Mom makes amazing prime rib, but she’s making me pay for it as retribution for running away from home with minimal warning.”
Rick led me into a spacious kitchen, where an older man and woman showered Annabel Lee with their attention. I smiled at how the large dog soaked in the love. She was a little smaller than my dog, and sat with picture perfect patience, obeying commands to shake, lie down, and other basic tricks I hadn’t tried with mine, as I figured he’d earned being lazy.
“Juliette, this is Hope. Mr. Carter, if you would kindly stop keeping your first name a secret, it would make introducing you so much easier.”
“You got a letter out of me once. If you want the other letters that make up my first name, you’ll just have to figure it out yourself,” the man replied with a smile. He strode over and held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hope. Everyone calls me Mr. Carter, and while I’m sure I have a first name, I seem to have forgotten it.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carter. I hope this isn’t an inconvenience.”
“It’s not. My wife needed to lure Rick over for a fitting anyway and discuss the matter of wedding apparel.”
My eyes widened. “We’re wedding planning, Rick? You didn’t tell me we were going to be wedding planning. I left my notes at the hotel.”
“I was wedding planning. You’re just here to pick me up. Juliette is a fashion designer, and my cousin has decided only a custom Carter gown will do for her big day. As I happened to have worked with Mr. Carter in the past, I thought I’d reach out since I was in the area. Somehow, that turned into me being fitted for a new suit. I’m not actually sure how that happened.”
“Pretty men who enter my home must be fitted for a suit,” the woman announced, giving Rick’s dog a final pat on her head before rising. “Pretty women who enter my home must also be fitted. It’s a rule. I just made it up. Come along, lovely lady. It’s time for your fitting.”
“Juliette, you can’t dress up Miss Hope today. They have a long drive ahead of them.”
The couple squared off to fight, and I glanced in Rick’s direction.
He shrugged and grinned. “I had no idea Mrs. Carter was so much fun, but when I came over, she announced I was being kidnapped, and if I could cooperate until you arrived, she would be very appreciative. Mr. Carter just sighed, so I figured everything was okay. I need a few new suits, anyway.”
“You came here so I could pick you up, and you were ambushed into having a fitting?”
Juliette dodged her husband, snagged me by the arm, and dragged me out of the kitchen with surprising strength. “It’ll take twenty minutes, and I’ll return her unharmed and in possession of some random object from my closet. You were complaining it’s too full again, darling. I’m helping to empty it.”
I gasped, staggered but caught my balance, and went with her flow, as I had the feeling she could—and would—drag me across the floor otherwise. Dropping my pets’ leashes put me in the bad pet parent category, something I’d feel guilty over later.
Laughing, Rick contained both animals and pet Edgar Allan Paw. “Don’t worry, old man. She’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Juliette hauled me to a sewing room, closed the door behind us, and rubbed her hands together. I recognized the manic gleam in the woman’s eyes; I’d been around enough energetic, obsessive people to understand I’d captured whatever quality made the woman tick.
Surrendering would make the whole thing end faster. “What am I being fitted for?”
“Clothes.”
Uh oh. “What sort of clothes?”
“I’m thinking about that. You’ll need a wedding dress, as he told me you’re coordinating his cousin’s ceremony. You’ll also need business attire, I’m sure. Casual clothes. Lingerie. You know, the usual. Do you like black?”
“I like black.”
“Blue?”
“I guess?”
“How about orange?”
“I can’t say I’ve ever tried wearing anything orange before.”
“Purple?”
“Are you trying to turn me into a rainbow?”
Juliette giggled. “I wouldn’t make you wear all the colors at once, but I do enjoy bright colors. You have to put up with that scamp in the other room for a long car ride, so you deserve a purse and a nice pair of boots. Do you like heels?”
“No higher than two inches, but I sprained my ankle a few weeks ago, so I’ve been sticking to low heels or no heels at all.”
“Two pairs of boots, then. Maybe a runner. One with heels, one without heels. Excellent. All right. Strip down and let’s see if your bra fits.”
When I made it home, I would have to thank my mother for having acclimated me to scrutiny in the dressing room, and after a moment of thought, I did as told, folding my clothes and setting them on her sewing table until I stood in my less-than-appealing cotton bra and underwear.
“You’re practical and enjoy comfort, but you’re wearing the wrong cup size. You’re supposed to contain your breasts, not strangle them within an inch of their poor lives.” Juliette tested the shoulder strap, made a thoughtful noise, checked the tag of my bra, and whipped out a measuring tape. She measured me head to toe, taking notes in a journal while muttering to herself. She spent a disconcerting amount of time poking and measuring my feet. Once done, she eyed my bra like she wanted to burn it. “Wait here, don’t get dressed, and if you get cold, grab a robe f
rom the rack. I’ll be back within five minutes.”
As I wasn’t cold, curious over what horrible offense my bra had done to her, and doubtful I could realistically afford whatever rates she charged for her apparel, I waited as told.
She returned several minutes later with a large box overflowing with clothing. “One of these days, my husband will learn he can’t tell me I need to clean out my closet again. When he tells me that, I grab innocent people, usually young, pretty women, and I have my way with them. It’s a deep-set character flaw.”
Dumping the box onto the table beside my clothes, she rummaged through it until she located a lingerie box, which she handed to me. “He said one lingerie box only, but he didn’t say I couldn’t cram as many sets into the box as possible, which is what I did.”
More bras and underwear than I currently owned competed for space in the box, and my brows shot up. “This is a fortune in lingerie.”
“If my husband hadn’t cruelly forced me to clean my closet, I wouldn’t be just handing out lingerie at my whim.” She turned to the door, made a face, and hollered, “You hear that, you wretch? Cruelly forcing me to clean my closet! And then to dare restrict me on what I can do with my closet? Rude!”
The woman’s husband chuckled from somewhere nearby. A moment later, he said through the door, “You have ten minutes, but they do need to get on the road, Juliette. You’re only getting away with this because she showed up a few minutes early.”
I did hate being late. “It’s okay, Mr. Carter. While this is weird, I don’t mind. But shouldn’t I pay for this?”
“No,” the Carters replied.
I considered the situation, and while accepting random charity baffled me, I could do so with grace. “Thank you, then.” I picked through the bras and lifted one out. “This is so much prettier than what I would have bought myself,” I confessed.
“There are a few of the more practical ones in there for your enjoyment as well. I’ve worked with your type before. You’ll appreciate expanding your lingerie horizons down the road, and when it comes time to replace them, you’ll be knocking at my door with your credit card in hand. I know what a good bra does to a woman.”
Clever. “You’re just securing future sales.”
“And I have to make you a dress for the wedding anyway. It works out for all of us. Get changed while I decide what you’re wearing out of here. I tossed in some pajamas, too. They’re flannel. Every woman deserves a nice pair of flannel pajamas. They’re extra good at catching dog fur, and I can’t help but notice you have a nice, big dog to cuddle up with at night.”
I grinned. “He does have a lot of fur, he is big, and he’s very nice. He’s only recently become a cuddler, but he needs help getting in and out of bed.”
“Invest in a ramp for him at the foot of your bed. That’ll help, and it’ll spare your back trying to lift that much dog. You probably have fun lifting him into your car.”
“Fortunately, he doesn’t need too much help getting in, although he gets up on the floorboard before getting onto the seat.”
“Since you’re driving a long way, you get jeans, a blouse, and a leather coat. You get a puppy blouse because I say so.” Juliette plucked a silky blouse from the box, gave it a shake, and showed me. The cream color would match with a lot of what I wore, and it had a pocket over one breast with the picture of a cute puppy peeking out over the pocket. “I was told I couldn’t just make a puppy pattern, and that I had to limit myself to one puppy on this one.”
“But why would anyone limit you to one puppy? That seems cruel.”
“That’s what I said. Those mean people stood their ground and demanded I stick to one puppy only.”
“They weren’t being mean, Juliette. Stop filling Hope’s ears with nonsense, finish dressing her, and get out here. They do need to go. Long drive,” Mr. Carter said.
“Cruel!”
“I’m not cruel, I’m just not letting you keep her all night long when her family is expecting her. You also can’t keep Fredrick or the dogs or cat.”
“Extra cruel,” Juliette complained.
“Did your assistant forget your medications again?”
“I made my assistant transfer to design, where she belongs. I have been assistant free since five this afternoon.”
“Juliette Carter, you did not transfer your assistant!”
“I most certainly did. She deserved it! She had it coming to her, doing all sorts of good design work. Don’t you tell me how to run my company, you jerk.”
I changed into one of the cream-colored bras and matching underwear before taking the shirt out of Juliette’s hands and putting it on. “Jeans, please?”
“The darker pair is best with the jacket and that shirt,” Juliette replied. She abandoned me to the box and stomped her foot near the door. “She deserved it, Mr. Jerk!”
“Please finish with Hope and come take your medication before you break the house again.”
“Just because I bounced off a banister too hard once doesn’t mean I’m going to break the house.”
“Except you did that twice this month.”
“Why are you so mean to me?”
“I’m not being mean, but I’m going to make sure you have an assistant that makes certain you get your afternoon medications without being lured away to a different position in your company. Your assistant is there to make your brain stop being broken. Your brain is broken right now, Juliette. Take the pills that fix it.”
I put on the jeans, pleased with how well they fit me. The black leather jacket I located fit me a little too well, and I worried I’d be knocking at her door sooner than later to buy more clothes. At the bottom of the box, I found two pairs of running shoes, three sets of kitten heels, a pair of calf-high leather boots, and two pairs of slippers. The running shoes tempted me, but I went with the boots, pulling them on and tucking my jeans into them before lacing them. “Okay. I think that’s all I need,” I announced.
Juliette whirled, looking me over with narrowed eyes. “Purse. Most Evil Spouse, I will agree to your terms if you locate a good leather purse. In black. Make it a big one. Put a little one with a gold chain inside the big one. Should you do this, I will do as you ask.”
“The only reason you’re getting away with this is because I told you to clean your closet.”
The woman smirked and flipped her middle finger at the door. “Don’t tell the jerk this, but I love him very dearly even when he’s trying to tell me no.”
I could tell, and I smiled. “Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you for this? There’s a lot of clothing here.”
“I’m sure. They’re prototypes, and I keep a lot of this stuff in my closet for people who come over. My husband has figured out I can’t help myself, so he lets me keep a closet I can just give stuff away from. They’ve already served their purpose, so it’s time for them to go to your home and be loved until they’re worn out. Then you should light them on fire. Lighting old things on fire is a lot of fun. I volunteer my fire pit. Bring the scamp with you. We can roast marshmallows. It’ll be fun. Just don’t tell that mean husband of mine I’m planning on burning things again. It upsets him for some reason.”
“Is it safe to come in?” Juliette’s husband asked.
“You can come in.”
The older man cracked open the door, peeked to confirm it was actually safe, and entered, carrying a blue, a red, and a black purse, and judging from the chains peeking out of all three bags, he’d joined his wife in being excessive. “She may take all three of these home, as I have noticed that your purse closet is overfilled. Again. Purses attacked me when I opened the door, Juliette.”
“Damn it. I worked so hard to train those attack purses to only go after unknown entities. They weren’t supposed to attack you.”
Mr. Carter thrust all three purses into my arms. “I will grab your box and help you take that to the car. Please take these things from my house. I’m begging you. If she doesn’t get rid of some stu
ff, I’ll end up sleeping with her purses. Again.”
“I’m not that bad.”
“You really are, Juliette.” Mr. Carter kissed his wife’s cheek. “I’ll get your pills as soon as I get her things taken to her car. If you’re good, you can invite her over to our house again to play later, but you have to let her go visit her family for now. Remember, you can’t adopt young ladies or gentlemen because you’re lonely. Julian, Chloe, and the baby will be over tomorrow morning. You’ll last that long, I promise.”
“But are you sure? Are you really sure?”
“I’m positive. Now, shoo. Go say goodbye to Fredrick and Annabel Lee so they can get on the road. They have a long drive ahead of them, and you’ll worry if they’re out too late. March, woman!”
Juliette pouted, but she obeyed.
“Please forgive her,” Mr. Carter said once his wife left. “She gets excited, and when she’s off her medications, things can get weird. She’s mostly harmless, I promise.”
I could believe mostly harmless, a lot of fun, and possibly the victim of a great deal of sugar. “It’s okay, Mr. Carter. She seems really nice.”
“That she is. She just gets excitable is all.” Mr. Carter picked up the box and nodded towards the door. “With luck, I’ll have you on the road in a few minutes. Just have Fredrick give Juliette or me a text when you get in so she doesn’t worry. The last thing I need is to have to go on a long drive so she can visually confirm you made it safely.”
For some reason, I believed she’d make him do just that—and he’d be willing to go with it because he seemed like the type, too. “I’ll make sure he texts. Thank you for the new clothes and the purses.”
“You’re welcome. And yes, they really are just taking up space in the closet because she no longer needs them for design, so please don’t worry about it.”
I decided I wouldn’t worry and just enjoy her gifts. “If there’s anything I can do in exchange, please let me know.”
“I’ll let her know—after you’re safely out of her clutches.”
I had a feeling I’d appreciate that later.
The Run Around Page 22
