Page 109 of Worst in Show

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and quick. “I’m so sorry.”

Relief courses through me. “Where are you? We said noon, right?”

“Yeah, I’m…” He pauses. “I’ve been, uh, waiting for a delivery at the store for an hour now.”

The relief is replaced by something more caustic. “And you couldn’t call me? I’ve been at the café for thirty minutes already.”

“I know, I know. I’m so sorry. I was on the phone with shipping and time slipped by.”

I think he’s going to keep talking, fix it, but he doesn’t. Something is off. Why is his voice so hushed? “Well, are you coming now? You’re not the only one with things to do.”

A beat passes. Two. “I wish I could, but I’m still waiting for the guy to, uh, show up. I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you, okay? Tonight?”

I take a deep breath. My options are to pick another fight or roll with it. One of the two will suck more, and I have no reason to think he’s avoiding me. “Fine. You’re sure there’s nothing else going on?”

“A slip of the mind, that’s all.” He clears his throat. “So, I’ll see you tonight?”

“Tonight. You cook. It’s the least you can do.”

“Definitely.” He sounds relieved.

I hang up, the pang of having been stood up still echoing inside me. Things happen, I tell myself. These are busy times. On my way out, I order another sandwich for takeout. He has to eat one way or another.

I know I’ve been lied to as soon as I find Jaz alone inside Canine King and no sign of Leo out back, either. I’m about to throw his food in the garbage when raised voices reach me from upstairs. I gingerly navigate the narrow wooden staircase on the exterior that leads to Leo’s front door. A little ice and those steps are a lawsuit waiting to happen.

There are two voices, both male, coming from inside Leo’s apartment. They rise and fall like a duet, going from barely audible to loud enough that I’m able to make out the words. I take a few steps closer on the landing.

Suddenly, there’s a loud ruckus as if a chair has toppled over, and a voice yells, “Bennett is not the one who carries my name!”

The outburst is followed by Tilly barking, and that’s the intermission I need for the truth to settle in.

Leo’s dad is here, and he is not happy.

I knock hard, and everything on the other side quiets down. I take off my hat and wait.

I’m about to knock again when Leo opens the door enough for me to see him and nothing else.

“Hey…” He’s pale, his shoulders tense.

I squint at him. “What’s going on?” I try to get him to make eye contact, but his gaze doesn’t settle. “I looked for you at the store.”

“I can explain.”

“Explain what—why you didn’t tell me your dad is here?”

His surprise is visible. “I…” He hangs his head and pushes the door open wider.

A movement in the kitchen draws my attention away from him. I step inside, and at the kitchen table is an older gentleman I recognize from my web search of Royal Equine. Unlike in that photo, though, today he’s not smiling.

“Cora, meet my father, John Salinger. Dad, this is Cora Lewis.” Leo remains a step behind me, his voice strained.

My bravado fizzles at the sight of Mr. Salinger’s imposing presence. “Nice to meet you,” I say.

“Likewise.” Mr. Salinger smiles briefly, and as he does, his face transforms into a vestige of Leo. Charismatic command runs in the family, it seems, along with the blond hair and steel-blue eyes. At sixty plus, he’s still as broad-shouldered and towering as his son. I suppose a life of working with horses will do that. Only the creases lining his face and the grays at his temples betray his age.

“I didn’t know you were visiting,” I say. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re not.” Leo sweeps up next to me, his hand at the small of my back. “Come on in.”

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