I’m still a hostage. Captive to a monster who won’t stay out of my life, and it overshadows everything I wish I could be.
XX
Like Cats And Dogs
(Brady)
Wendy beams at me on the screen.
Her hair looks just as wild and windswept as always, this time with a pencil thrust through it.
That’s one of my favorite things about her—and the farm. The fact that she’s authentic.
No dressing to impress. No fakery. No minced words.
There are days when I’m jealous of her ability to kick optics to the curb.
I’m in my home office that doubles as a studio. I glance at my phone, then force myself to pay attention to the conference.
“I’ll send you the details soon,” Wendy says, not seeming to notice my distraction.
Probably because it’s totally out of character.
Until now, work was my world.
It still is—mostly.
“Thanks,” I say. “That’s incredible. Exactly what we’ve been waiting to hear.”
She grins. “Me too.”
Finally, we’re closing in on a breakthrough. The call outlined a new farming technique they’ve developed that’s producing a greater organic crop yield for heirloom grains and legumes that are appealing to dogs.
A path through the wall we’ve kept smacking.
Taste and affordability.
I should be over the fucking moon.
Instead, I’m distracted, even as the good news keeps rolling in. Lena keeps invading my brain, making it damnably hard to think straight.
“I appreciate all your hard work at Finsted Farms,” I tell her. “I’ll have your samples sent to the nutrition lab ASAP to start testing.”
“You’re welcome, Brady. I really think we’ve got it this time.”
“Me too.” I send the email she’s already forwarded to me along to the lab, and as another of our investors asks a few more questions for Wendy, I check my phone again.
Nothing from Lena.
Fuck.
Honestly, I hadn’t expected much.
She’s been distant ever since our argument. We’re certainly not lovers pretending we’re madly in love, not when we’ve reverted to something much colder.
Even Queenie seems confused, dragging around my condo and sleeping when it’s not time for food or the park runs.
How the fuck do I fix it?
