Page 42 of Just a Plot Twist
“Oh, that’s sad. What’s your landlady going to do?”
“She mentioned the shelter, but that was just a scare tactic so I’d agree to dog sit.”
“That poor dog. First she loses her person and then she gets passed along to random people who don’t want her.”
“My kids want her,” I protest. For some reason, I don’t want Claire to think I hate the dog.
And for the record, I don’t hate her. Just strongly dislike her.
Hey, I’m allowed to have opinions about it, right?
“They’re good with her,” I continue. “They help me be patient.”
Claire nods. “Babies and dogs, man. None of us can compete.”
“Agreed.”
A woman standing in front of us rotates to give us a pointed look, so Claire and I quit talking and try to pay attention to the tributes.
I glance at Claire. Iwillquit talking to her, but first one more thing. I lower my voice. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look?”
“Thanks.” She blushes a little as she adjusts the sleeve of her soft blue dress. “My grandma picked out the dress. Sophie gently turned down the dress offer, but here I am, wearing it with pride.” She sticks her tongue out of the side of her mouth. “It wouldn’t have been my first choice, that’s for sure.”
“What do you mean? It looks amazing on you.”
She eyes me dubiously. “The style’s a little dated. And it’s too tight.” She takes in a breath and presses her hand over her abdomen.
Nope. Not too tight. It’s perfect. Before I can try to convince her just how wrong her estimate on the sizing is, she steps closer so she can whisper. “You look nice yourself. I can’t believe you pulled off a tux in like a zero amount of planning time.”
I thank her. “My father wanted me to get one, and I’ve worn it a few times since I moved here. He tends to know a lot of high-powered people who throw high-powered events.”
“None as high-powered as this one, though. Surely.”
“Of course not.” And…now I’m grinning again like I can’t get enough of this woman.
It’s been nice to text her. And I’ve liked having someone to commiserate with about the dog. But also? I haven’t had this much fun back and forth with a woman in a very long time.
“How’s your ankle? For real?”
“Well, with the remedies my grandparents have given me…they even brought over a TENS machine the other day…it’s doing okay.”
She turns to the swan handler, a tall, middle-aged man dressed in black who is standing on the edge of the doorway. “Your swans are mesmerizing.”
He only bows his head briefly before giving the swans side-eye, like a warning ofI see everything.
“I heard they sometimes get algae as a treat, but at events, you get the feed. Because algae at something like this?” She makes a face.
“This is true,” the handler says.
A moment later, Claire side steps nearer to me and I’m caught up in her fresh coconut scent and the way her hair brushes against my neck. “He’s not too chatty is he?” she whispers.
I mouth the word, “nope.” Claireisbeing too chatty and we keep getting looks from people.
“The swans are hugging that far side of the pool. I wish they’d come closer,” Claire says.
The handler holds out a canvas feed bag. “If you toss them a small handful, they’ll come closer.”
She takes the bag, shoots a smile in my direction, and unrolls it. She plunges her hand into the feed, grabs a handful of what looks like cracked corn, and tosses it into the water.
