Page 61 of The Love Dose
“Right, the promise to Bernard.”
Paul has referenced it several times without elaboration. Even so, I understand he feels obligated to look after me. But it’s ridiculous. I’m a grown woman.
I go to the kitchen, put up the kettle and bring a box of assorted teas to the living room, setting them on the coffee table. “I don’t need babysitting.”
“I’ve done some digging,” Paul says, ignoring my comment.
“Digging?”
“Investigating.”
I shake my head in disappointment. Paul is overstepping his bounds, by a mile. I was only joking with Sam about having Paul check into Calvin’s background. Seems she took the reins on this project as well.
I sigh. “Let’s have it.”
“Dr. Sinclair has a stellar reputation.”
The kettle whistles. “You sound surprised,” I say, heading back into the kitchen to let off some steam of my own.
I hear him call out, “Don’t trust, verify.”
I take a deep breath, returning with two mugs of boiling water. “Pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes.”
He shrugs.
I could ask what bits of intel he picked up about Calvin that led to his assessment, but don’t. It feels invasive, somehow. And no longer relevant.
Paul helps himself to a tea bag, dunking it into the mug. “How was it being out here in the boonies?”
“Perfect.”
He nods, sagely.
“You’re here to drive me back, I suppose.”
“Only if you want me to.”
“I’m meeting with my lawyer in two days.”
“Indeed.”
I consider my options. Either leave now or wait for Calvin to pick me up tomorrow. It’s a no-brainer.
I ask Paul to notify Calvin not to come for me. It’s better this way. Sitting in the car for five hours with a man who wants little more to do with me would be torture.
I pack my things, grab the pup and let my chauffeur drive me home.
Chapter Forty-Three
Caroline
Iyawn, shaking away the cobwebs and step out of the car in front of my building. It’s like I’ve landed on another planet. The noise, wet pavement, traffic, shouting, drilling. Smells.
In Manhattan, I have to search out nature. I can’t explain why but it makes me sad. I’m a city girl always have been.
I already miss the Vermont house, terribly. Probably because my mind associates it with peace and quiet, the two things I was in dire need of when I went out there. A truck screeches to a halt nearby, spewing soot into the already blackened slush.
I whimper softly and realize Paul is at my side. He sets Rezy down on the ground and hands me the sparkly new leash. He’s mine. No chip means he’s mine.
