Listen to Your Heart - Fern Michaels [30]
“Yes, I guess it was,” Josie said, her eyes on the dogs in the yard. How happy they were. She could almost forgive Rosie’s defection. Wasn’t love about making the other person happy? That’s what her mother had told both her and Kitty when they were seventeen.
Suck it up, Josie. He’s just a guy. Another fish in the ocean. A guy with a ponytail. A guy with dark laughing eyes and an engaging smile who just happens to have a rogue dog who just happens to be in love with your dog.
Kitty watched as her sister picked up the bakery box by the string and dropped it into the trash compactor. Damn, her tongue was hanging out for one of the warm, sugary beignets.
“How about some coffee, Kitty?”
“No time. I have too much to do in the kitchen. What time do we have to have the food at the Andreponts’?”
“Twelve sharp. Mrs. Andrepont has a wonderful kitchen with lots of room. Everything will go off on schedule. Tonight is going to be tight and close. As soon as I finish my coffee, I’m off to pick up the ladies. I’ll be back inside of an hour.”
“He seems like a nice guy, Josie. Cut him some slack. Don’t let this dog business throw you. I don’t want you getting all pissy on me now. Think this through. Hey, the guy gave you the key to his house. He didn’t have to do that. You’d kill me if I ever gave Harry a key to this house. Think about that.”
Josie turned her back so her sister she wouldn’t see the tears that were about to flood her eyes. Why was she crying anyway? That would be the day when she cried over some man. The tears were because of Rosie. God, how she loved that little dog. “Traitor,” she muttered.
Five
Paul Brouillette leaned back in his custom-made chair for a better view of the stack of financial reports in front of him. A deep frown etched his brow. He wished he could make the reports disappear. He’d been in the office since six o’clock trying to make that very thing happen. It was eight o’clock now, and his secretary was making coffee. He could smell it, but he knew it wouldn’t be half as good as the New Orleans coffee he loved.
He jolted forward and reached for the folder with the red tab; that folder had information about the company his mother managed. It was so far in the red nothing could save it. He’d been subsidizing it for years, and it was like pouring money down an open manhole. The dinner meeting he’d had last night with the accountants had given him a king-size headache that was still with him. The accountant’s final words were still ringing in his ears. “Shut it down now!” How was he going to do that to his mother? It was all she had left. What about all the cousins and relatives and their families that worked for the company? A severance package meant only months, not years, of security. What would happen to all of them when the severance money ran out? Somehow or other he should have made her listen. Instead, he’d gotten angry when she refused to accept new methods, new advertising, and new packaging. Why wasn’t he able to set aside the old hurts? Why did he keep opening up old wounds? Business was business. Family was family. The two couldn’t work in harmony for some reason.
The headache continued to hammer at the base of his neck. He needed to work it out. A good long run in Central Park might be the answer. Before he could change his mind, he headed for the lavatory, where he changed into running gear. The phone rang just as he was about to leave the office. He grabbed it on the run and barked into the phone. “Jack! When did you get in? Dinner? Can’t make it tonight. You headed for home? Listen, do me a favor. I had to leave Zip with a . . . a friend. She wasn’t crazy about taking him. I kind of needled her into it. If you can see your way clear to taking him to my house, I’d appreciate it. I’ll call her later and tell her you’ll be by to pick him up. Zip knows and likes you. You’ll be doing me a hell of a favor, buddy. You’ll do it! Great! I owe you, Jack.” He listened to the boisterous voice on the other end of the line for a moment. Why was everyone in the world happy but him?
“Get