Page 14 of Late Harvest

“Oh, Dr. Remington, that’s really kind, but I’m sure you’re exhausted. You don’t need to entertain your neighbor.”

Remy shifted the package to the hallway console table. Shocking herself, she repeated the invitation. “Call me Remy, please. And seriously. Do you want to come in? You aren’t just a neighbor, you’re a—” Remy halted, not sure how to characterize what Lila was to her. Neighbor didn’t seem right. But friend wasn’t accurate either. Co-worker just seemed cold, and Remy sensed Lila could use some warmth. Whatever. Not everything needed to be defined. “You’re welcome to come in,” she finished lamely, managing to avoid describing things she was too physically and emotionally tired to classify. “Do you like red wine? I can pour you a glass and introduce you to the man in my life.”

Why had she said that? Who was this woman and what had happened to Remy? She blamed the wine and her hollow stomach.

Lila tucked an errant blonde curl into her ponytail, indecision etched on her face. “Are you sure?”

“I never say things I don’t mean, Lila. Come in.”

The women met gazes and Lila offered a shy smile. Surely, somewhere inside, Lila must be wondering why Darth Vadress was emitting friendly overtures. As a longtime colleague, Lila had to be well aware of Remy’s intentionally reserved temperament and reputation for unsociable behavior. The exhausting compassion and warmth Remy could summon was typically reserved for her patients only.

Tongue loosened, Remy attempted a smile, praying it didn’t come across as a creepy grimace. It wasn’t an expression she often used, so she was probably rusty. “Please, a little company sounds lovely.” She shifted out of the doorway and motioned to the interior of her home.

Thankfully, Lila didn’t seem freaked out by Remy’s attempt at a smile and random neighborly gesture. Instead, she returned the smile and stepped inside, tucking that wayward curl again. Remy considered Lila’s long hair—curly, blonde, and nothing like Remy’s own poker straight dark hair. Fleetingly, she thought about Lucia’s ravings about Bash’s hair and wondered what his hair would feel like sliding through her fingers.

Jayzuz, she must be semi-drunk.

She realized Lila was still standing in the entryway and choked out an embarrassed laugh-cough. “Sorry, Lila. Clearly I’m a shitty hostess and not used to guests.”

Lila’s broad smile put Remy instantly at ease. No wonder Lila’s patients loved her. She had a magical way about her. “Not at all, Dr. Remington, I⁠—”

“Remy,” she reiterated. “Please. Or Arabella. Either is fine.”

What alternate universe was she in today? Absolutely no one had called her Arabella since…

No, she admonished herself internally with fierce conviction. Definitely not going there.

“Um, ok. How about I call you Doc? That feels right. If you don’t mind.”

“Sure, yep. That works. Been called that before. Also been called worse.” She laughed self-consciously.

Lord, could Remy be any more graceless? If Tasha Remington could see her now, she’d be disappointed in Remy’s manners. Summoning the greatest lady she’d ever known, Remy attempted to banish her inept initial attempt at a welcoming manner.

“Now, before you meet Chicane, may I pour you a glass?”

“Yes, please. Thank you…Doc.” Another warm smile from Lila.

“Red ok? I only have Cabernet Sauvignon. It’s my preference.”

“Red is great. Syrah is my favorite, but any good red works. I’ll drink white, but it doesn’t really do it for me.”

“Same. I’d never yuck anyone’s yum, but I always say life is too short for white wine. Green grapes generally aren’t my jam, though Prosecco can hit the spot.”

“Yes—exactly!” Lila threw her head back and laughed, the curls in her ponytail bouncing. “And sometimes a crisp Chardonnay works.”

The women smiled at each other, and Remy managed not to look away.

Surprisingly relaxed, she filled a glass for Lila, realizing as she lifted the lighter-than-expected bottle that her own pour had actually been two-glasses worth. Half a bottle.

Ooops.

“Here you go. Cheers, Lila.” They tapped glasses.

“Cheers, Doc.”

Smiling down into his activity pen, Lila cooed over Chicane.

“Have you ever interacted with a lop before?”