Taylor takes a seat next to me. “So I brought you presents.”
“Taylor! You shouldn’t have. My ankle isn’t a big deal.”
“Well, I’m a little responsible. I willed this into existence. So I’m making myself feel better with gifts.”
“In that case, gimme-gimme,” I say with a grin and hold out my hands.
“First.” He hands me a narrow gift bag.
I pull out a bottle of excellent champagne.
“Ooooh. Bubbles. My favorite. But this is too much,” I say to Taylor.
“To drink the pain away,” he says. “And this is so you can languish in style. It’s also a thank-you for all the free consultant work you’ve been doing while I design my women’s line.”
I reach into the larger gift bag and pull out a box. I open it and squeal. “I love it! It looks like a dressing gown that some fabulous 1950s housewife would wear!”
“She probably did. It’s vintage, of course. In honor of you. If you’re living with Ryder Black, you have to look glamorous while sitting on your ass. How’s the ankle?”
“It’s healing. The doctor said I should be fully back to normal in two weeks, but he warned it will take longer if I don’t stay off it, so here I sit.”
“I’m not sure if we’re evil geniuses or if you just have terrible luck,” Taylor says. “So where’s the studly nurse today?”
“He’s walking Archie.”
“Mmm, too bad.”
“Oh! I forgot to tell you. I’m hosting the corgi playgroup when I’m better. And I’m making it a pool party!”
“You’re hosting a pool party for dogs? What does Ryder have to say?”
I wave a hand. “Eh. He’s okay with it. Well, he doesn’t know yet. But I’m sure he’ll be fine. I thought it would be fun. I have so many plans.”
I open the champagne Taylor brought because it would be inhospitable of me not to. And I propose we drink it by the pool. He helps me with my crutch and carries the coupe glasses from the bar table in the corner of the living room. We settle into the pool loungers as the sun warms us in the cool breeze. A New England summer can be surprisingly chilly.
We talk about Taylor’s new friend-with-benefits relationship. We analyze who said what and when, exhausting every perspective and theory we can of where his relationship is going.
When we’re done, I take a sip of champagne. “This is the life.” I sigh.
“And how’s everything going with your gorgeous boss?” Taylor asks.
“You were right, you know. I want Ryder to fall for me too, and not just Archie. I always thought the true obstacle between us was that we never had one-on-one time. I was wrong, though. So far, I haven’t made any progress with him.”
“Babe, I have complete faith that you’ll get his attention. He’s got no chance,” Taylor says.
“I hope so.” I pause. And then forge ahead. “Do you think my plan to convince Ryder to keep Archie is a bad idea?”
“What’s bad about it? It’s perfect. You said they’re hanging out all day and the little guy has, predictably, wormed his way into Ryder’s bed. Because who can resist a corgi? But I still don’t understand why Ryder keeping Archie matters to you so much. I feel like this is about something more.”
As much as I hate to admit it, Taylor’s probably right. “It’s probably because of Socks,” I admit.
“Socks?”
“I was…poor growing up. It wasn’t unusual in the places we lived for people to get dogs and then abandon them.”
“People are fucking awful.”
I nod. “One of my neighbors treated their dog terribly. So the little guy adopted me. Kind of like Archie adopted Ryder. I started feeding him anytime I could. I named him Socks because he had these white paws. My mom would stay out all night, so he helped me feel safe and like I wasn’t so alone. Socks was my best friend. But then my mom found a new boyfriend, and sheannounced we were moving in with him. I tried to take my dog, but the guy didn’t want a pet.”
