Page 66 of Love in Training
“No.” He nods slowly. “That’s what our parents wanted.”
Drew’s voice is surprisingly soft as he says this. I can’t decipher the look on his face, but his words shake loose something I’ve been ruminating on for a while.
“Didn’tyougo to med school?” I ask. “Why are you a dog trainer and not a physician?”
The look he gives me could freezer burn a glacier. But when he doesn’t answer, I ball my fists and step toward him.
“What? Is it some paltry posthumous gesture just like your parents’ award? Is opening the business ofKyle’sdreams supposed to atone for the fact that he’s gone?” My lip curls. “That’s some self-sacrifice. Maybe if you’d tried it when he was alive, he’d still be here. Probably running it better than you.”
I stare right at him, hoping he’ll dispute me. I’ve spent the last year simmering in my feelings about Kyle while biting back replies to unwanted opinions on all my writing. I am ready to unleash.
But it’s like watching an iron curtain come down behind his eyes. Drew mutters quietly to Rufus and slips him a treat. Then he collects the few training items scattered around us in the grass.
All I can do is watch, growing more and more annoyed. I want him to grovel, say he’s sorry, beg forgiveness—forbothof us losing Kyle.
So I can stop blaming myself.
Instead, he just turns to go, speaking once over his shoulder in a cracked voice.
“I’ll be at K9 Academy tomorrow. Seven p.m.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
“Ms. Phipps?”a woman’s deep, mature voice greets me over the phone Saturday morning. “What can I do for you?”
“Yes, hello, Mrs. Vanderpool.” I sit up. Her assistant left me hanging so long, I almost forgot who I was waiting for. “Thank you for taking my call.”
“It’s Richards now—Mimi Richards. I’m reverting to my maiden name.”
“Oh, okay...” Congratulations doesn’t seem like the right sentiment, but I jot the name amid the notes on my kitchen counter. “I was just calling to check in now that the article’s in print.”
“That’s kind of you,” she says distractedly. “I believe I sent an email expressing my gratitude.”
“Yes.” I clear my throat, hoping my speech doesn’t warble with the pulse pounding in my throat. “I received that, thank you. I wanted to see how you’re doing. Things must be kind of intense right now.”
“That’s one way to put it,” she says, startling me with a cackle. “Colin has endured so much fallout the last few days, I’ve had to make popcorn.”
“Oh—” I try to echo the levity in her voice. “But... you’ve been all right?”
She snorts. “Better than I’ve been in years.”
Keep that pretty nose where it belongs.
“Well, that’s great to hear.” I clear my throat again, genuinely relieved she hasn’t had to deal with the kinds of messages I’ve received. But something about her tone makes me pause. “If you don’t mind, I have one follow-up question I’d like to ask.”
“For another feature?”
“Not exactly. I’m just hoping to clear up some confusion.”
She hums. “Just so we’re clear, I don’t consent to another interview. Anything I say now stays completely off record.”
“Uh... of course.” I straighten on my stool, trying to rein in my surprise. “This will be between us.”
“Good,” she says, voice clipped. “What would you like to know?”
I take a breath, no longer confident I can navigate this conversation. “Well, this week after the feature came out, I learned your husband had a partner working with him on Unmatched.”
