“True.” She’d given him a free pass to share something personal, to open a window into his life. He’d be a fool not to take the opportunity. “Five years ago, I was in a business meeting in Dallas. A big merger. The guy leading the negotiation for the other side came into the conference room with this little yellow furball tucked under one arm.” Flynn sank into a squat and ruffled the scruff at Cap’s neck.
“He brought a puppy to a business meeting?”
“Believe me. I was as surprised as you are. He said he got the dog for his kids, but this troublemaker”—he scratched Cap behind the ears—“developed a taste for designer heels.”
“Oh, no!” Sage laughed.
“The guy’s wife wasn’t too keen on having her Christian Louboutins turned into chew toys, so Cap had to go. She wouldn’t let him back in the house, even while her husband was negotiating a multimillion-dollar merger.”
“Poor Cap.” At her sweet, sympathetic tone, Cap trotted back to her side, happy to double up on the affection.
Flynn stood and leaned against the railing, recalling that day’s unexpected events. “So, the guy’s telling me how he had no choice but to bring the so-calledbaddog to the meeting and how he’s going to dump him at the pound as soon as it’s over—”
“That’s awful!” Sage interrupted with adorable outrage. She’d always had a soft spot for animals. Another trait he’d admired.
“Yeah. The guy was a real piece of work. While he droned on and on about how agooddog should behave, Cap figured out how to use my briefcase and a vacant chair as a stepladder onto the conference table.”
“No! He didn’t.” Sage put a hand to her mouth, smothering another laugh.
“Yep. He was quite resourceful. And it gets better.” Flynn’s gaze fell on Cap, his heart warming at the memory. “I reach for my cappuccino, but the cup’s empty. And this thief has a suspicious foam mustache.”
“You drank your dad’s cappuccino?” Sage asked Cap, who wiggled his backside in unabashed admission.
“Every last drop. I was actually kinda impressed. Both that he’d managed to get onto the conference table undetected and that he could handle a double-shot espresso.”
“And that’s what made you decide to keep him?” she asked with an amused smirk. “His caffeine tolerance?”
Flynn hesitated, weighing his response. He could answer her question with another joke. Or he could tell her the truth. “I decided to keep Cap because I understood him. He wasn’t a bad dog. He simply needed someone who would appreciate his mischievous, playful side while helping to redirect some of his rambunctious energy with love and patience.” All the things his parents never offered him.
Sage met his gaze and wordlessly communicated both empathy and understanding in a single glance. She’d witnessed all the times he’d been scolded by his parents. All the times they’d asked,Why can’t you be more like your brother?
Kevin was always focused, orderly, and disciplined. He was going places. Good places. Therightplaces. Kevin was the mega yacht while Flynn was the racing schooner, too difficult for his parents to control.
At least, he used to be, before Kevin died.
“Wait.” Sage sat up straighter, snapping him back to the present. “Cap? As in,Cappuccino?”
“Yep.”
“Huh.” She leaned back. “And I thought it was short for Captain, because you sail so often.”
Flynn shifted his body toward the sea, his forearms propped on the railing. The sun sank below the horizon, splashing pinks and yellows across the water as the sky above turned a dusty blue. He owed Sage the truth. But he couldn’t reveal the whole truth. Not without hurting her even more than he already had. He drew in a breath of salty sea air, weighing his words carefully. “I haven’t been sailing in years.”
“Really? Why not?”
He shrugged. “No time.” The knot in his stomach cinched. He hadn’t lied. Not entirely. Sure, he couldmaketime, if he really wanted, but it wouldn’t be easy. Not with how many hours his job required. And once he became VP, his free time would shrink to nonexistent.
“I don’t understand. Why do you want this boat if you don’t even sail anymore?” Her tone carried a hint of exasperation mixed with confusion, and he winced.
Bracing himself, he turned to face her.
She met his gaze with wary, questioning eyes. Her posture, once relaxed, now looked tense and guarded.
She deserved answers. Answers he couldn’t give her.
Once again, for her sake, he opted to respond with partial truths. “The boat isn’t for me.”
Her eyes widened, and he plunged ahead before she got the wrong idea.
