Chapter Four
Me? A dog fan?” The guy’s bemused question snapped Pepper from her floaty trance. “I wouldn’t say that. Not at all. Not even a little.” She shook her head three too many times, as if the moment required an extra lashing of awkward.
Spoiler: It didn’t.
“Wait,” she blurted as he cleared his throat. Some dim part of her brain registered she wasn’t about to stick her foot in her mouth, rather cram it in mid-calf. “Before you say anything, I know, okay? Iknow. Admitting to disliking dogs is like declaring ambivalence to bacon or a belief thatFriendswas a terrible show unworthy of ten seasons. But is that fair? I mean, if a dog person made a glancing remark about how they weren’t much of a feline fan, cat people would shrug it off as no big deal. To each their own. But not dog people. No, dog people find it impossible to tolerate canine aversion.”
Her pause for a breath was met with silence. He passed a hand over his mouth as if erasing a smile. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“Actually no.” She pursed her lips. “That was all off the cuff.”
“Impressive.” It sounded like he meant “scary.” One of the dogs whined.
Frowning, she jabbed a hand to her hip. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” His brows knit.
“You’ve got the same expression I did this one time a crazy lady tried selling me a bag of crickets on the subway. Look. I’m a stable—very stable—exceedingly sane person and—aaaaaaaargh!” The closest golden retriever slurped her hand. If a horror film score synched with a whale’s death song it might match the noise escaping her mouth.
“Faulkner. That’s the last time.” The guy yanked hard on the leash. “Quit now. The lady’s just not that into you.” Her not-so-secret admirer wagged his bushy tail, but retreated to a distance that made it possible for her to draw a shallow breath.
At least the dogs were obedient. That helped. Some.
“I’m sorry. Today’s been a nightmare. I was fired from a clerkship with the judge on day one. It takes a special sort of talent to lose a position you apparently didn’t even have.”Ixnay on the verbal vomit.This stranger hadn’t been selected at random to compete in the pain Olympics. And from the sound of his behind-the-hedge argument, he had his own personal Lifetime drama playing out.
“Judge?” His glare stilled her frantic gesticulating. “Judge Al Hogg?”
Her jaw twitched at the hated name. “Buddy of yours?” After all, it was a small town. They might be on the same bowling team.
He coughed in his fist. “Not exactly. But the way I see it, congratulations are in order.”
“Congratulations?” Her hands flopped helplessly to her sides, her exhale long and shuddering. “What for?” She didn’t have the fortitude to withstand him making fun of her. Her field of fucks was barren.
“Know how every village has an idiot? Well, turns out, the same principle holds true for assholes. Trust me, you’d be happier pumping gas at Payton’s Pump-N-Munch out on I-95 than spending a day sucking air with that man.”
“Are you honestly trying to put a positive spin on this situation?” She could throw sass or burst into tears. At least option A allowed her to retain a scrap of self-respect.
He shrugged.
“Cute. Too bad my funny bone’s as broken as my morale.” Overhead, raindrops fell, heavy and cool, and her lower lip trembled.No, no no, anything but this.Her tears weren’t for public consumption. The least her body could do is hold on until she reached her rental cottage and drew the light-canceling blinds.
Pressure mounted against her diaphragm. A flush crept in. Nothing pretty or delicate. Nope. This was a hippo-splashing-in-a-puddle-of-ketchup affair.
“Miss?” He sounded like he’d rather be anywhere else and she didn’t blame him one iota. In fact, she’d like to join him.
Hey here’s an idea, let’s ditch the weird crying chick and grab a pizza.
Instead she was trapped by an expected “the lady doth protest too much” role.
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” She shaded her eyes. Not that she had to—the sun was cloaked behind a thick blanket of cloud—but because like it or not, waterworks were fast approaching.
She was jobless and stranded in a town where the biggest store was the Piggly Wiggly. Talk about coming full circle. Georgia might be opposite from Maine in terms of geography, but it turned out that a small town was a small town was a small town. And the path that was supposed to keep her moving forward had led her to a place eerily similar to her original starting point.
She sniffled. Her nose had sprung a leak too. More tears welled. The charming street blurred. What more could happen—a giant meteor?
The first defeated sob shredded her throat. It was almost a relief to stand aside and allow the raw moan to expand into a wail.
“Awoooooo.” The dogs ceased lunging and howled off-key. “Awoooooo.”
