Listen to Your Heart - Fern Michaels [3]
“I guess I’ll be going . . .”
“It’s about time,” Josie snapped. “Take your dog with you. He looks like he’s settling in.”
“Are you always this nasty?” the giant asked.
“Yes,” Josie snapped again.
“Then I don’t think you’re the kind of person I want to do business with.”
Josie sat back on her haunches, her eyes on the two dogs. Rosie seemed to be enjoying the boxer’s attention. They were rubbing noses. Dog love. Was there such a thing?
“Look, you came to me. I didn’t come to you. You are certainly within your rights to do business wherever you like. I would like to remind you that it was your dog who did all this. I’m willing to chalk it up as one of those unexpected things that happen every so often. I can replace the plants and rehang the window boxes. The screen door will have to be redone. It’s cleanup, basically. With the exception of Rosie’s toy. Why don’t we just forget this happened and go on from there?”
“Fine. Come on, Zip, time to go home.”
Josie watched the big dog out of the corner of her eye. He wasn’t moving, and it didn’t look like he was about to move either. Obviously the giant was of the same opinion. She did her best to hide her smile when he leaned over and picked up the huge dog, who protested mightily by howling his head off. Rosie whined and yipped as she ran after the giant and his dog. Josie ran after them, only to meet up with Kitty in the driveway.
“My God!” the giant exclaimed. “There are two of you!”
“What’s he talking about, Josie? What’s going on? Somebody tell me something.”
“Later,” Josie said, scooping up the little dog, who only wanted to get in the backseat of the car with the big dog.
Thanks to Zip’s huge paws, the horn of the Mercedes sedan blasted again and again as the giant backed the car out of the driveway. The picture of the giant and his big dog driving the fancy Mercedes would stay with Josie for a long time. She grinned as Rosie whined all the way back to the cottage.
“Don’t panic now, Kitty. I’ll clean it all up. It’s a good thing it’s Monday. What are you doing out of bed?”
“Who was that? He looks familiar. Oh, my God! What happened?”
“His dog got loose, and Rosie went for his throat—the guy, not the dog. I don’t know what he wanted, and I don’t even know what his name was . . . is. Go back to bed, and I’ll clean this up. The dog got Rosie’s Beanie Baby. I have to find the beans. Maybe I can sew it up. I don’t even want to think about tonight if she doesn’t have it to sleep with. By the way, what are you doing out of bed?”
“When you didn’t pick up the phone in the cottage, I answered it in the house. It was Mrs. Lobelia. She wants to know if she can come over to talk to you this afternoon. Something about that big party she’s planning for Mother’s Day. I told her yes since we have nothing scheduled for today. Older people like to do things right away. They don’t like to wait around. Okay, okay, I’m going back inside.”
Josie stared at her twin. It was the same as staring at herself in the mirror. They had the same dark brown eyes, the same dimples, the same jawline, and identical noses. Their hair was brown and curly, with no options for style, and it left little for people to tell them apart. Even the giant had recognized that they were identical.
Kitty had been her best friend from the moment their mother had placed them together in the same crib. It was them against the world, or so it had seemed at the time. Two voices were always better as well as louder. At least they got to be heard. They had played all the standard twin tricks, and for a time in their teens they were able to fool their parents a time or two.
Kitty was the serious, stable one. Kitty was the one who thought things through and always came up with the right answer, and it was Kitty who loved to cook. Unlike Josie, who couldn’t boil water. Josie was what Kitty called a loose cannon, flying off the handle, plowing ahead and reading directions after she broke whatever it was she was trying to put together. She had a head for business, unlike Kitty,