Evie looked to Bryson with a raised brow. “Can you handle dessert?”
“I’m from the South. I will never say no to dessert,” he said.
She ordered baklava and two Ethiopian coffees.
“Okay,” Bryson said once they were alone again. “Can we finally get to the reason why I was treated to this amazing meal?”
Yes, she did have a reason for bringing him here that didn’t revolve around staring at him slip his fingers in and out of his mouth. She had no idea such a thing should have been on her list of “must-sees” but she was profoundly happy to have discovered it.
She cleared her throat again. “Yes, we can. I want to discuss The Sanctuary.”
“I figured as much.”
“I think we should still try to save it.”
Bryson stared at her over the rim of his wineglass. He drained the last sip of tej from it and then set the glass on the table.
“Have I had too much of this wine, or have you?” he asked.
Evie rolled her eyes. “I’m not even tipsy, and neither are you. I’m serious, Bryson. I don’t want to give up on The Sanctuary.”
“I know you heard exactly what I heard Doc say because you were standing right next to me when he said it.”
“Yes, I heard what he said.”
“And you still think there’s a chance of us saving the rescue? The building alone will cost nearly two million dollars.”
“I understand it’s a lot of money. But—”
“Two million, Ev. And we don’t know when the succession and probate will go through, which means we don’t know how much time we have to raise that kind of money. But even if wedidhave an idea of the timeline, there’s no way it will happen.”
“Way to be positive,” she said with a snort.
“Way to be realistic,” he countered.
“The Bryson Mitchell I remember would not quit so easily,” she said.
“The Bryson Mitchell you remember would not pretend he could snap his fingers and produce two million dollars out of thin air. Be for real, Ev.”
“Can you please not shoot this down before I even have the chance to make my case?”
Bryson held his hands up. “Go ahead. By all means, make your case.”
The waiter returned with their baklava. Bryson immediately broke off a piece and slipped it to Bella, who had been quietly resting at their feet.
“Don’t give her that,” Evie said.
“Why not? She likes sweets.”
“You’re a veterinarian. You know better.”
“Life is short, especially for a dog. A little sugar won’t hurt her.” He broke off another piece. “I guess this means none for Waffles?”
“Nope.” Evie shook her head and gave Waffles a piece of bread so he wouldn’t feel left out. “I’m not going to sit here and debate what’s best for your dog, but when she gets a tummy ache, call me.”
“Will do.” He winked. “So, now that we’ve established that I’m a bad dog owner and that it would take a miracle to save The Sanctuary, what’s next?”
“We have established no such thing,” Evie said.
