“Right, good idea. I’ll call and/or text soon.”
“Goodbye, Liam.”
“Goodbye, Winnie.” I spare him one more look over my shoulder before I unlock the studio door with a shake of my head. I’m still grinning like a fool when I close it behind me and find Roshni lying in the center of the floor with Ollie sprawled out beside her.
“Change of plans,” she says. “I’ve decided to tell Juliette all about your torrid affair so I can claim Liam for myself.” She’s looking at me upside down from her spot on the rug, and I angle my head to the side to see her more clearly.
“Trust me, he’s more trouble than he’s worth.” I set my bag down on the counter, and Ollie strolls over to nuzzle my shins as Roshni sits up, twisting around to face me.
“Is that what you really think?” she asks.
I wish I could say yes. I wish I could say that I don’t care about Liam at all. That there’s zero zing factor there and I could easily forget all about him. But, regrettably, I can’t.
“No,” I answer honestly, “as it turns out, he’s actually very much worth it.”
Damn it.
9
I’m just bringing Ollie in from a walk when I stop in the entryway, taking out the key for Juliette’s mailbox. He sits down beside me and scratches behind his ear, and I can’t help but smile just looking at him. Tests confirmed he had no registration chip and judging from his state when I found him, the vet figured he was most likely abandoned for months. I reported Ollie to the local council, and they told me that if they can’t locate the owner, I’ll be allowed to keep him. I really hope that he and I are endgame, but the idea also leaves me feeling slightly nervous. My apartment is small, even smaller than the studio, and with working in the theater, my day-to-day schedule is constantly all over the place. Maybe I can look into hiring a dog walker? It’ll probably be expensive, but regardless, I’ll figure something out, and we’ll find a way to make it work.
I’m still staring unabashedly down at him when a man with sandy-blond hair appears in the stairwell, on his way out. He stops by the mailboxes as well, now standing directly beside me as he turns his little key in the lock.
“Morning,” he says. His pale green eyes catch mine as he flashes me a quick smile.
“Morning,” I chirp back.
He pulls a couple of letters out and looks them over as he locks the mailbox back up again. I’m doing the same when he then goes on, “Are you new to the building?”
Sliding my set of keys into my pocket, I turn to face him. “No. Well, sort of. I’m Juliette Brassard’s assistant. We’re here in town for work.”
“Oh, nice. I think my mum knew Juliette back in the day. I took over her flat on the fourth floor a few years ago. I’m Phillip.”
He extends his hand, and I don’t hesitate to shake it. “Winnie.”
“Nice to meet you, Winnie. And this is?” He’s now looking down to where Ollie is gnawing on the edge of his loafers.
“That’s Ollie. He’s the newest member of our entourage.”
“An excellent addition,” he says, squatting down to ruffle his fur. “Very distinguished. I’ve been meaning to get a dog for ages but have yet to take the plunge.”
“Most parents say you’re never truly ready, so it’s probably better just to go for it. Granted, they’re referring to human babies and not fur babies, but still, I’d assume it’s the same sentiment.”
“Yes, I can see that saying being somewhat befitting.” He stands up then with a friendly grin, and I think how nice it would be to have friends in my building back home. Too bad I live in a six-floor walk-up where everyone mean-mugs each other on a nearly competitive level.
“Alright,” I say, “well, I’m off to rehearsal. Juliette has a new pop-up production coming out, so we’re on a bit of a time crunch.”
“I can imagine. And hey, if you ever need someone to walk Ollie or to visit him during the day, just let me know. I teach maths, so I’m free for the next two months while school’s out.”
“That’s really nice of you. I’ll let you know.”
“Think nothing of it.”
I give him a smile and head towards the elevator with Ollie loyally following along behind me. “Have a good day,” I add over my shoulder as I hit the call button.
“You, too!” He’s about to exit but stops short of the door a second later. He sniffs the air, prompting me to do the same and quickly realizing that Ollie just unleashed one mother of a silent assassin fart. Phillip turns back towards me just as I shield my nose with the back of my hand.
“It wasn’t me,” I instinctively claim.
