Page 38 of Vicious Arrangement
He’s big, but he’s still growing, he’s only young, not quite puppy, not quite teen, so the ripping into things is to be expected… except he doesn’t do it at home.
“Angus?”
He’s sniffing his bedding, not sure about it, but once I put a blanket on it, add his favorite cushion to the mix, he’ll be happy.
He trots over, and I pet his velvet head, his liquid brown eyes looking up at me. “Don’t be nervous,” I tell him, “it’s scary, I know, but it’s also an adventure. This is our room. And, look, that’s our space where you can play and sun yourself.” I lean in and whisper, “and on snowy or cold nights, you can go to the bathroom. But we can still go for runs.”
Angus whines, rolling his eyes to look around. And I stand, taking his leash. “Let’s explore. We’ll start up here and then go down to the next floor. What do you think?”
He barks.
I open the door, make sure the little doggy back clip on his leash is full and we head out.
It’s glorious, and the high wall that must sit inside the edges of the original façade is high enough to be safe for Angus. We both love it. Our little area is huge. And I know that something like this in Manhattan is akin to a sprawling mansion anywhere else. Angus checks out the shadowy areas, the little fountain that flows in the corner.
He sniffs the grass and the flowers, all of which appeal to him. He marks a tree.
I sit down in one of the seats, picturing myself studying or relaxing with my iPad on a warm summer evening, watching a show or movie, or even reading.
Then I rise, and we explore the rest. The curtains are down on his side, and there’s no barrier, but the trees and the garden setting are neat and clipped where Noah’s room is, like he prefers something a little more manicured and dull.
Some might call it zen, and there’s a little pond, some seats, and stones, with light dappling through the trees and well-kept bushes. It’s calming, I guess.
There’s a barbecue on the other side, and a row of seats, and a table. As I check it out, I see the stainless steel hides a working fridge, too. And… amazingly, there’s an outdoor shower that’s closed off by frosted glass. I peek in. It’s big enough for about four people. I peer in through the window.
The upstairs living room.
The other side offers patio chaise longues and what looks like a fireplace, but it’s probably gas. I’m about to continue when I see a door. I open it to the smell of cedar. Wide cedar steps lead me up to where the hot tub is and some pretty plants. There’s another small kitchen area under cover, and the sauna. Angus barks at the water in the hot tub and jumps in.
From the other side of the sauna on this small uppermost space comes a cry, and a handsome man with black curly hair bounds around. “Oh. You must be Mrs. Templeton. I’m Alonso.”
I shake his hand just as Angus stops splashing and climbs the little steps, shaking water over us both.
“Angus!”
But Alonso laughs and bends down, petting my dog. “It’s okay. He’s beautiful. I’m glad I cleaned it for you. Maybe I need to get you a little pool… I’m putting in a kennel on the first floor and one here if you want. Maybe moveable, so we can shift it to be at one of the trellis openings for you… I’m planning on putting a couple in other places for him, out of the way, but nice areas.” He ruffles Angus’s wet fur. “Maybe you can help, my friend.”
Angus lets out a joyous bark.
And I find myself smiling.
Even if Noah lives here, the place is beautiful, a little slice of paradise and a place Angus might love. I can leave the door open for him during the day so he can go in and out as he sees fit and I won’t have to fret about him during long double shifts.
I trail Alonso and Angus as we all explore places for extra water bowls and sleeping stations, and I think, maybe this won’t be all bad.
Chapter Eleven
NOAH
Of all days,today isn’t the day to be late, and it still shows no signs of ending.
But I’m finalizing a tricky multi-million-dollar takeover that will take us from strength to strength and shore up some holes in the industry that are waiting to be picked apart by the unscrupulous.
Mark Wilson’s been riding my ass since I got in, and he’s really pissing me off to the point I’m thinking of firing him. But he knew Oscar well, and probably knows where bones might be buried.
Besides, the man’s excellent at his job.
I read over the final document, letting the peace of a mostly empty office floor slide through me, taking some of the day’s tension with it.
