Page 12 of True Sight
“What?” He cocks his head to one side and looks at me out of the corner of his eye. His jaw is slack in sheer disbelief.
“You stand like you’re holding two very full buckets of water across your shoulders. You’re going to give yourself a hunch unless you stand up straight,” I quip, crossing my arms in front of myself. He gives me a once over before finally closing his mouth and straightening his spine.
“Well thank you for that very helpful insight. I’ll add it to the list of things to work on. Between you, my friends, andmy therapist, there’s plenty to do,” he chides. “Maybe next time you should pay better attention instead of just barreling into places like a goddamn ogre.” He waves a hand at me and I shift my weight into my other hip.He did not just compare me to an ogre.
“Anogre? Do I look like an ogre to you?” My voice pitches up as I wave a hand down my front. “I’m much better looking than an ogre.”
He squints at me again and blinks hard a few times.
“I don’t have time for this.” Without even saying goodbye he turns on his heels again and walks away, leaving me standing alone outside of the coffee shop.
“Don’t forget to stand up straight,” I call out, but the only sense of recognition I get is a distant head shake.
Once he’s out of sight, I puff out a breath and shrug my shoulders, trying to let the whole exchange go. He had no right to be as rude as he was, especially after I tried to apologize several times. I would have been far more irritated by the entire exchange if he weren’t so cute. Part of me wanted to trace my finger along the vein I could see popping in his temple.
If only he wasn’t such an arse.
Checking where I’m headed this time, I reach for the door of the coffee shop to step inside and finally get to work. I have several hours ahead of me and want to get to it as quickly as I can. Finding an open table, I set up my laptop and hurry to order a tea. Once I’m holding the hot drink in my hand, I sit myself down in my chair to plan out my classes for the week and prepare for my meeting with Conrad tomorrow.
7
CONRAD
You know what they don’t tell you about dogs? That they’re a pain in the ass. And loud. And way more fucking work than people let on. I mean really, who knew that a forty-five pound animal could be so needy.
Margaret dragged me to the local animal shelter and forced me to walk around no matter how loud I protested. As we did laps, looking into one chain-linked gate after another, we looked at dog after dog. Some would come up to the gate and bark, others would sit patiently, wagging their tails and hoping to be let out. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for and wasn’t even sure I wanted a dog in the first place.
Until I saw her.
Scared and cowering in the corner, something in me shifted when I approached her kennel. She was small and visibly shaking, firmly pressing her body up against the back wall of her cage. There was a small cot with a pile of blankets on it and an empty food bowl that she must have flipped over after she cleaned it. There were a few discarded toys, some more shredded than the others, tossed aroundthe concrete floor. Margaret had wandered off, not noticing I hadn’t continued on, and came back to look at her with me.
“Her name is Annie,” she read from the card dangling from a zip tie on the gate.
“Are you serious?” I asked, squatting down and poking a few fingers through the chain links. They told us explicitlynotto do this, but I wasn’t worried. She seemed too afraid to do anything to hurt me.
“It’s what the card says.”
“Annie,” I whispered to myself. “Like Annie the orphan. Just like me.” I felt what some might assume is a smile spread across my face and sit down on the floor.
“Annie girl, come here,” I called out to her and waited.
“Annie girl?” Margaret cried out, her voice pitching up as if it was the cutest thing she’d heard all year.
“Oh stop. Don’t even start or we’re leaving.” I craned my neck to look up at her to speak, leaving my fingers hanging off of the gate, and saw her raise her eyebrows at me.
“Yeah but when we do, it looks like we’re taking someone home with us.” That’s when I felt it. The distinct feeling of soft and squishy muscle against my fingers, soaking them in slobber. I whip my head back around to look at her and her stubby tail is running like the Energizer Bunny and the once scared and closed off dog is looking at me like I’m its mother. When I looked at her again and saw the happiness on her face, my heart melted the tiniest bit for me to feel it.
Great.
After filling out the paperwork and taking her for a walk, I was the proud owner of a three-year-old Australian shepherd. Margaret helped me buy everything I needed for her on the way home and we let her pick out a toy from the pet store which she happily pulled from one of the low hangingbins that I’m sure they set up that way on purpose. Once home, Margaret spent a few hours with us, helping me set up the kennel we bought for her and taking her on another walk. Since bringing her home I’ve learned that she loves toys, especially ones that squeak even though they make me want to bash my head into the wall. She also enjoys lying on the couch even if I tell her to get down but most of all, she loves being close. This dog is on me like fucking velcro and nothing I do seems to get her to want to leave me alone.
All day yesterday I’d sat at my desk with her lying at my feet or on the couch behind me, staring at me in case I moved. If she wasn’t sleeping, she was staring at me. If I wasn’t at my desk, she would follow me around wherever I went, including the bathroom. I put her in her kennel before leaving for ten minutes to walk to the coffee shop just around the corner only to be able to hear her crying from down the hall when I came home. The sound of her crying made me want to rip my ears off so I decided she could just stay out whenever I left.
But even with her being incessantly clingy, she and I fell into a routine quickly. I’d done hours of research about Australian shepherds after bringing her home and learned that they’re high-energy dogs and need lots of training, which was on my list of things to set up and get scheduled. The last three days I’ve taken her on three walks a day and tried to play with her as much as I could while also getting my work done. But no matter how many times I’d throw her toy across my apartment, she would always bring it back, waiting for me to throw it again.
Today will be different though as I have my meeting with Henry, which I expect to take at least a few hours since we’ll be discussing his project at length. I thought it was weird he wanted to meet in person, but he paid my five-figure invoice without question, in full, so I’ll be showing up bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to be as polite and cordial as possible. Before leaving, I stare at myself in the mirror and practice smiling.
Why does this look so forced? Do I always look like this when I smile?
