Chapter Eight
Brad didn’t know whether to curse Izzy or fall before her on his knees in gratitude. It had only been a day since she’d agreed to help, and already she’d created a Facebook page for Forever Friends, complete with an event page for the banquet, convinced the local radio station to advertise the fund-raiser for free, and emailed him a detailed list of all the other social media accounts he needed to create, with instructions.
She’d also sent over the two infuriating women who were currently camped out in his office. Izzy had said they would be able to help fix his website, but he knew better. This was his punishment for convincing her to adopt Vi and Jasmine.
Deborah Garcia held up the half open bag of cheese puffs. “Are you sure you don’t want any?” she asked, and rubbed at a patch of orange dust on the paisley blouse that stretched tightly across her round body. With her head lowered, Brad could see through her thinning hair to the pink scalp below.
“I’m sure.”
Eugenie Shaw, Debbie’s partner in crime, turned from his computer screen. “Hit me.” She opened her mouth, and Debbie popped an orange puff between her lips. “Thanks.” She turned back to the screen and shook her head, her steel-gray curls quivering. “The problem goes deeper than just your website design. You’re using the oldest web host known to man, and your operating system is four upgrades behind.”
Brad scratched his jaw. “I know I’m out of date.” Hell, this was the computer he’d had in college. “But I don’t think I need a fancy website. People just need to know what we are and our phone number and address. I’m not selling a product.”
“Wrong, boyo.” Eugenie tapped an orthopedic-clad toe on the ground. “You’re selling yourself. Your image. And if you want to move these poor dogs out of here, you’ve got to do a better job with your image.” Bending over, she scratched behind the ear of a mutt that had to be four-fifths hair. Eugenie had brought her own dog, Shep, with her, but he seemed happier lying at her feet than playing in the kennels with the others. “I’ve thought about getting another pooch, but I think Shep would be jealous.”
“Some dogs definitely don’t like the competition,” Brad agreed. “But we have a lot of dogs who need homes here, so if you know of anyone who’s looking, send them over.”
Debbie rubbed Shep with the bottom of her foot. “How do you get notified of strays or dogs that need to be rescued? Won’t most people call the county shelter?”
“I hope not.” Brad cocked a hip against the corner of the desk. “They try their best, but they still destroy certain animals that they feel aren’t adoptable. I want Forever Friends to be people’s first call if they see a stray.”
“You need an app, where people can snap a picture of a stray and it sends you the location information immediately.” Debbie crunched on another cheese puff. “Maybe set up a sort of doggy dollar reward system to encourage its use.”
“He’s still using Windows XP.” Eugenie shook her head. “I think the app can wait until the boy catches up to the twenty-first century with the basics.”
“It wouldn’t take long to develop,” Debbie said. “We can do both.”
“You two can develop apps?” Brad blinked at the septuagenarians. Debbie had orange stains on her polyester pants and Eugenie had a weird round hat pinned to her hair. And they wrote code.
“You can’t?” Eugenie sniffed. “I thought you were an engineer.”
“A mechanical engineer.” He shrugged. “If you need someone to build a dam or a chairlift, I’m your guy.”
“That sounds really useful right now.” Debbie rolled her eyes. “Okay, you buy a new web host, probably you’ll need a new computer, too, and we’ll design you a kick-ass website. And then we’ll write a Forever Friends app. Sound good?”
“Uh, yeah.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he thought about the balance on his business credit card. “How much do you think all this will run me?”
Eugenie named a number for the computer and web hosting plan. It would stretch his credit limit but not tear it. “I’ll let you know when I’ve bought it. What about for your services?”
Debbie and Eugenie glanced at each other. “We want full credit for our work at the banquet, in the program,” Eugenie said. “A personal thank-you when you give a speech, and our names at the bottom of your new website. We’re starting a consulting business, and we’ll work for you for free in exchange for the publicity.”
Of course they were starting their own business. Why wouldn’t two old ladies launch an IT company? He kneaded the back of his neck. “You got it. You’ll have my undying, and vocal, praise and gratitude.”
“We’ll work on setting up your social media accounts.” Debbie crumpled up the cheese puff bag and tossed it toward the garbage can. It missed by a foot. “I can’t believe you don’t have any. Post a dog pic each day. It’s not that hard.”
Yeah, he’d heard the same thing from Izzy. Her message had been loud and long.
“You know what would really drive people in here.” Eugenie scanned him up and down, the look appraising and slightly…lewd. Brad shifted, resisting the urge to shield his private bits with his hands. “Pictures of the men who run this place. Shep’s vet, Dr. Moretti, works here, right?”
Brad nodded. “Yes, but—”
“Ooh, he is cute.” Debbie snapped a picture of Brad with her phone. She squinted at the result. “And this one here’s pretty darn photogenic.”
“And Dax Cannon works here now, too, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“I thought you didn’t like gingers?” Debbie asked her friend.
“That young man’s hair is auburn. And even if it was Ronald McDonald orange, it wouldn’t matter.” Eugenie sucked on her lower lip, and Brad couldn’t be sure, but it looked as though her dentures slipped. “He is one hot potato.”
Okay, he couldn’t hear any more. “I don’t know where your minds are heading, but no.”
Debbie narrowed her eyes. “You do want people to come through your front door, don’t you? Well, pictures of the three of you on your website and social media will bring the women flocking.”
“No,” he said. Eugenie opened her mouth, and Brad cut her off. “And when I say no, I mean hell no. Not going to happen.”
“What about a calendar?” Debbie snapped another shot of him.
He leveled his most serious “I’d rather burn in the flames of one thousand hells” look on the women, and it must have worked. They shut up about it.
“How did you know Dax was working here?” he asked.
“Herbie told me over dinner. It wasn’t confidential information,” Eugenie assured him. “The sentencing is public record.”
“Herbie?”
“Judge Herbert Nichols,” Debbie explained. Her mouth twisted up tight. “They’re dating.”
And on that note, Brad picked the cheese puff bag up off the floor and dropped it in the trash. He needed this whole conversation to be over.
God must have taken pity, because the bell on the front door rang. “Thanks, ladies. Let me know if you need anything.” He strode out of the office and down the hall. Ana was dropping her backpack behind the empty front desk. Using her foot, she shoved it deep in the well where the receptionist would normally sit. When he had money to pay for one.
“Ana, what are you doing here?”
Her eyebrows drew down. “You said I could come here after school. I came.”
“Of course you can come.” He yanked on her ponytail. “I just thought since you had two new dogs at home, you’d want to spend time with them.”
“Mom says I made a c’mmitment.” She rolled her eyes. “But I would like to see Jasmine’s brothers and sisters. Are they still here? Have they been adopted yet?” She bounced on her toes like an oscillating spring.
“They’re still here.” Instead of taking her back down the hall and through the exam room, he opened the door that led directly from the waiting room to the kennels. Leg-blocking three dogs to keep them from charging out, he herded Ana inside.
“You do know your puppy is a boy, right, Ana?”
“’Course.” She beelined for the bucket full of dog toys. “He’s got boy parts.”
Brad’s eye twitched. He wasn’t sure, but he had a feeling he shouldn’t be discussing the boy parts of any animal with a nine-year-old girl. “Right. So, uh, why’d you give him a girl’s name?”
“Boys have girls’ names all the time.” She rolled her eyes as she shoved one end of a rope down the front of her pants, and grabbed two squeaky toys. “A lot of them wear makeup now, and dress like girls, and do other stuff, too.”
“What other stuff?” he asked in a horrified whisper.
Ana shifted. “Well, Katie wasn’t so clear on that part. But she was watching this TV show where a dad became a mom, but Katie’s dad turned it off and told her to go to her room before she figured out how he did that.”
Brad’s eye twitch turned into a full-blown tic. Good God. Was this what Izzy had to go through on a daily basis? Raising kids today was like walking through a minefield.
He cleared his throat and tried to steer the ship into safer waters. “Dax is out walking six of the dogs. When he gets back, maybe you can go out with him and the next batch, help keep an eye on them.” And on Dax. This morning the man had taken a group of dogs on a ten-mile hike out in the woods. Said they’d needed the adventure. And they’d all come back, Dax included, sopping wet and covered in mud. Ana could be his chaperone.
“For now, the puppies are playing with Hercule over on the couch.” Brad crouched next to her. “Hercule is an older dog, and a bit of a grump, so why don’t you take some toys over to him and see if you can make him smile.”
“Dogs don’t smile.”
“Sure they do. Just not how you and I do it.” He pointed at the French bulldog. “See how his ears are tucked back, how he’s facing away from the puppies?” The puppies ignored their dismissal and merely crawled over or around Hercule to get his attention. “When a dog is happy, his ears and mouth will relax and he’ll wag his tail. That’s how they smile.”
She squared her shoulders. “I’ll get him to smile.” And she marched off, a mini-Izzy when it came to determination. His heart melted.
“We need your credit card.” Debbie leaned over the half door to the exam room. “Eugenie wants to buy your hosting platform now so she can get started on building the website.” Her gaze drifted past Brad to Ana and the puppies. “Who’s that?”
“That is my newest volunteer, Ana Lopez. She’s taken a special interest in the puppies.”
“I can see why,” the older woman murmured, opening the bottom door and stepping through. She jerked her head back toward the office. “Genie’s waiting.”
“Right.” Because why shouldn’t he take orders in his own shelter? Sometime today it felt like he had definitely lost control.
Two hundred and forty dollars later, Brad was sitting on Gabe’s side of the desk while Eugenie worked on his computer. He was going over the schedule of vaccinations when Debbie returned, a chestnut brown puppy in her arms.
“I want this one.”
Ana stepped from behind her. “I convinced her to get a dog. Be sure to tell my mom I made a sale.”
“We don’t sell the dogs here,” Brad said. “Although donations are always appreciated.”
“You’re getting a dog?” Eugenie blinked over the computer screen. “But what about Shep?”
“Shep’s your dog, and I love him.” Debbie brought the puppy toward the mop of hair and lowered him for Shep to sniff. Shep cocked his head, then rested it back on his paws, a doggy version of a shrug. “I want my own pet. It’s time.”
Brad stood and gestured for Debbie to take his chair. He found the adoption forms buried under a stack of bills on his desk and leaned back against the wall. He clicked the top of his pen. “I just have a couple questions to see if a boxer mix is the best dog for you, and then we can get the paperwork started.” He gave Ana a thumbs-up, and she skipped back to the kennels.
Thirty minutes later, Debbie Garcia was the proud owner of her new best friend. Brad loaded up a crate, bed, and dog food into the back of Debbie’s car and slammed the door shut. “Call if you have any problems. And be sure to bring him back for his next round of vaccinations in three weeks.” Debbie nodded and settled her new puppy in the backseat with Shep. She and Eugenie climbed in the front. He waved the women off, pulling out his cell phone as he walked back to the shelter.
“You’ll never guess what just happened.”
A moment of silence. Then, “Brad?” Izzy asked.
“Yup. And your daughter is a ringer.”
She sighed. “What did she do now? You didn’t play poker against her, did you?”
He paused in the open front door. “No. Ana plays poker?”
“Extremely well. You’ve been warned.” The sound of a car door unlocking came through the phone. “So, what’s up?”
“She got one of your puppies adopted.” He looked through the glass wall into the kennels. Dax had returned, and he and Ana were running in a big circle with twelve dogs scrambling after them. “And she was with Debbie and the dogs for only twenty minutes. I think sales must run in her blood.”
“They’re not my dogs!”
“Uh-oh. What happened with you?” Turning, he made for the hall and the privacy of his office. He shut the door and sat down at his desk.
“I’m just leaving my house now. I came to check on Vi and Jasmine.” Frustration laced her voice. A car engine started, and she said, “Hold on a sec. My phone has to link up.” A pause. “Can you still hear me?”
“Loud and clear.” Tossing one foot up on his desk, he leaned back in his chair. It was comfortable talking to Izzy about her day. Listening to her complain. “Did Jasmine pee on your floor?”
“No, the puppy is fine. It’s Vi.” Izzy huffed. “She opened the bottom cabinet and got into the big box of Goldfish crackers. She ate every single one, and some cardboard, I think. But she didn’t eat any of the dog food I left out. I thought you said this dog wasn’t eating,” she said, her voice accusing.
“That’s great news.” He rocked onto the chair’s back legs. “She must be getting more comfortable in her surroundings if she’s exploring. Trusting that you won’t get mad at her for making a mess.”
“Or she doesn’t trust me not to poison her food and is hunting for it elsewhere.”
He chuckled. “I think you’re giving her a little more credit for complex thought than you should. But was she feeling okay after eating the crackers? No throwing up?”
“Oh God. They throw up, too?”
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “Anytime one of your dogs throws up, give me a call and I’ll come over and clean it.”
She paused. “That sounds like a sneaky way to get an invitation to my house.”
“Vi’s not the only one with a suspicious mind,” he teased. “But since you mentioned it, how about I grab some take-out for the three of us and bring it over tonight when I take Ana home.”
“I’m picking up Ana, and I’ll get us dinner.”
“Great! I like everything except pork.” Based on the cute little growl that came over the line, Brad figured he might have gone a little too far. But it was fun pushing Izzy’s buttons.
He settled deeper into his chair and ran his palm over his thigh. There were a lot of her buttons he wanted to push.
“Okay, I’ll invite myself over another time. But, Izzy, I’m giving you fair warning.”
“Yeah?” she asked. “And what’s that?”
“It’s going to take a hell of a lot more shoot-downs before I stop asking.” As long as she kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye like he was a fun puzzle she couldn’t quite figure out, as long as she let her heart talk her into doing things like taking home two dogs even though her mind was dead set against it, he would keep wanting this woman.
And he was a very determined man when it came to getting what he wanted.
* * * *
Brad’s words stayed in her head the entire drive to Tannert Winery. He was a presumptuous, annoying man, with no respect for her boundaries.
He was also the first man ever to work for her attention. And that feeling, that she was someone worth the effort, was, well, it was pretty damn nice. Not that it would change anything. She didn’t have the time or inclination to date, and even if she did, it wouldn’t be with a man who had more smiles in his arsenal than he did dollars in the bank.
Although each and every one of his smiles had been pretty damn great. Even the one he gave her when he was laughing at her, the one where the corners of his eyes crinkled and the edges of his lips tugged up as he shook his head.
But a profusion of smiles, and the way each and every one of them stole her breath, didn’t compensate for the fact that he was half-assing his way through life without a thought for the future.
She turned off the highway onto the winding dirt driveway up to the tasting room. An antique piece of wine-making equipment had been placed at each turn, a little history tour without having to leave her car. She passed a huge wood wine press, turned at the old oak champagne bottle holder Izzy knew Kevin had picked up in Provence, before pulling into the dirt parking lot in front of the unassuming tasting room. It was a cottage of unfinished wood, and a wood trellis overhung its front patio, grape vines covering it like a canopy. Large clay tubs and wine barrels sawed in half surrounded the building, an explosion of brightly colored flowers springing from each makeshift planter. The production center was in a large barn to the left, and several acres of green vines stretched out behind the buildings.
Izzy climbed out of her SUV with her portfolio and headed to the tasting room. She passed through the outdoor patio. Two couples sat on the low bench sofas enjoying a glass and the afternoon sun.
Izzy pushed through the heavy wooden door into the air-conditioned tasting room. A long bar ran the length of the room at the back, with large casks stacked behind it. Several tall tables surrounded by stools filled the area, and Izzy dropped her portfolio on a table in the corner to claim it. Her appointment hadn’t arrived yet, so she headed to the bar.
“Hi, Lydia.” Only one couple was getting a tasting flight, and Kevin was helping them, leaving her friend available to chat.
“Hey, sweetie.” She filled a glass with their two-year-old sauvignon blanc, Izzy’s favorite, and pulled a bottle of water from the small fridge behind the counter.
Izzy unscrewed the top and took a sip. “We still on for tonight? Chinese at my place?” If she hadn’t already had plans with Lydia, would it have been so easy to say no to Brad? She bounced her foot on the stool’s rung. Thank goodness she’d already had plans.
“You bet. I can’t wait to meet your new dogs.” Lydia shook her head, and her bangs fell across her eyes. She pushed them aside. “I can’t believe you got dogs. Two of them!”
“You and me both.” She twisted on her stool. “My four o’clock hasn’t arrived yet?”
Lydia shook her head. Izzy had set up meetings with two parties who’d expressed interest in the anonymous lots. And for such an early stage meeting, Izzy preferred chatting them up out of the office, in a more casual environment. The free-flowing wine didn’t hurt, either.
Kevin strolled their way after pouring a taste of red into the couple’s glasses. He stopped next to Lydia and rested his elbows on the reclaimed wood bar. “Hey, Rockstar. Can I get your autograph?” He batted his eyes and dipped his chin to his chest.
“What are you talking about?” Izzy looked at Lydia, but she looked just as baffled as Izzy felt.
“Well, it’s not every day one of my friends has her picture in the paper.”
“What picture?” Lydia asked. “And why didn’t you tell me about this?”
Kevin shrugged. “The mailman just delivered it a little while ago. And I’ve been busy with customers.” Scratching at the polo stretched across his barrel chest, he lumbered to a cask that served as a side table and picked up the Pineville Gazette. “You made it above the fold,” he told Izzy as he flipped the paper onto the bar in front of her.
Izzy stared down at her photo, the same one she had on park benches and the sides of buses in the tri-city area. Lydia turned the paper so they could both read it if they cocked their heads.
“It’s about your dog rescue!” Running her index finger along the sides of each paragraph, Lydia skimmed the article.
Izzy didn’t want to read it. The headline was bad enough: Local Real Estate Agent Preapproved for Hero Status. She knew marketing well enough to know what would be in the article. Glowing praise over a selfless act. Silly puns about dogs. Everyone liked a feel-good story.
“Brad,” she said, her voice grim. “He did this.”
“Well, he did want to advertise the banquet in the papers. This is great press.” Lydia flipped to page five.
Great. A multi-page article on a fake story. “How bad is it? How good do they make me sound?”
Kevin tilted his head. “Sounding good is a bad thing?”
Yes, if it was undeserved. Her stomach went queasy.
Lydia pressed the tip of her tongue to her upper lip. “It’s rather detailed. About how you shimmied through a busted window, braving broken glass, not knowing what you were going to find, but compelled to investigate anyway.”
“Shimmied? Compelled?” Those had to be Brad’s words. The local reporters weren’t so flowery with their language. And there hadn’t been any broken glass.
“I like this bit best.” Kevin stabbed a thick finger on the second to last paragraph. “‘After carrying five animals into the shelter, Ms. Lopez formed a bond with the adult female dog. Seemingly she is the only human the dog will respond to. According to shelter owner, Bradley Cohen, Ms. Lopez was so distraught over the condition of the dogs, she vowed to punish those responsible for the animals’ abandonment should they ever be found.’ Then the last paragraph gives information on the banquet.” He nudged Lydia with his elbow. “You never told me Izzy was such a bad-ass.”
“Climbing through broken windows. Vowing revenge. Who knew Crook County had its own Rambette?” Lydia leaned into Kevin, and laughter shook their bodies.
“I didn’t say that!” The back of her neck grew hot, and she slugged back a shot of wine. “None of it happened that way. Well, except for the window. I did kind of have to shimmy through it. My skirt was too tight to climb through normally.”
They laughed harder.
“It wasn’t funny,” she told them. “I couldn’t get my legs through and fell on my ass into an empty apartment.”
“Stop it.” Lydia wiped her cheeks. “Oh God, I wish I’d seen that.”
The door opened, and Izzy’s four o’clock stepped in.
Picking up her wine and water, Izzy slid off her stool. “If you guys are done yukking it up, my appointment is here.” Plastering a smile on her face, she set her drinks down on the side table with her purse and portfolio and greeted Mr. Yu with an outstretched hand.
The meeting went longer than expected, and not thirty seconds after he left, her next meeting strolled through the door.
“Mr. Carelli. Nice to see you.” She shook the developer’s hand. “Thanks for meeting with me.”
“Of course. And, please, call me David.” He slid onto the stool across from her. “When lots of this size come on the market, it always piques my interest.”
“It’s not on the market yet. We want to see what sort of interest there is first.” She waved at Lydia. “Would you like a glass of wine?” she asked David.
“Just water, please.”
Izzy pointed at her water bottle, and Lydia nodded. She brought it over along with a fresh plate of cheese and crackers. She gave the handsome blond man a wide smile. “Are you sure I can’t get you a glass of wine? Our reserve shiraz is really quite good.”
“No, thanks.” He took off his jacket and draped it along the back of the stool. Izzy could practically see her friend drooling at the man’s shoulders. “I don’t like to drink and talk business at the same time.”
“Well, any night you’re tired of talking business, come on by.” Lydia tucked her shoulders back, giving her girls a little oomph. “I’d be happy to give you a taste of all we have to offer.”
Izzy forced her eyes to remain unrolled. Sometimes her friend was over the top. But David just chuckled. “I’m sure my fiancée would love to visit this place.”
Lydia shrugged, good-naturedly. She was always willing to take a shot, something Izzy admired even though she didn’t want to emulate it. And when the shot didn’t pan out, Lydia let it roll off her back. Something else Izzy admired. “Let me know if you need anything,” Lydia said, and strolled back behind the bar as another group wandered in for a tasting.
Izzy spent the next half hour answering questions and going through the financials. “I’d like to have a strong offer of intent to bring to my client, something robust but fair. He wants to sell; he only needs the proper motivation.”
“Oh, I think you’ll do quite well,” he said. “But it won’t be Carelli Construction making an offer.”
Her stomach clenched. “Is there something about the properties that’s a red flag to you?” She hadn’t been able to get her four o’clock to show much interest either. Especially when she’d floated the four million price tag as her opening bid. Was she wrong about this property? Reading the current market incorrectly?
“The height restrictions the zoning board created would limit the uses. One-story strip malls just aren’t bringing the same rate of return as they used to. I’m looking for space where I can build multi-story office parks.” David stood. “But that was a great presentation. I’m sure you’ll find someone who will see its potential.” He shrugged into his jacket and stuck out a hand.
She took it and prayed he was right. So far, she didn’t have much to report back to Burker. “Thanks for your time.” She waited for the door to swing shut behind him before slumping her shoulders.
Lydia placed another glass of wine in front of her, this one a delicate pink color, and sat down across from Izzy with her own glass.
“No deal, huh?”
Planting her elbows on the table, Izzy propped her chin in her palm. “I haven’t got one offer. It’s early yet, but I’m worried I raised the owner’s hopes on the price.” And raised her own hopes. She thought of Ana’s emaciated college fund. She needed this commission to fatten it up.
Kevin strolled over. He placed a large block wrapped in gold foil in front of them. “You look like you could use chocolate.”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “Chocolate isn’t the answer to everything, Kevin.”
Rubbing a hand over his slightly rounded gut, he lifted his shoulders. “It’s Belgian. Good stuff.”
“Thanks.” Izzy gave him a smile and unwrapped the block. It wasn’t a two-hundred-thousand-dollar commission, but he was right. Chocolate helped. “This is good,” she said around a bite. She held it up to Lydia, but she shook her head. Must be on another crash diet. No other way her friend would turn down chocolate.
Kevin gave Lydia one last look and wandered away, his footsteps heavy.
Izzy shook her head. “A man who makes you laugh, looks at you like you walk on water, and brings you chocolate. What is wrong with you?”
“What?” Looking over her shoulder at her partner, she spun back around and shrugged. “He’s a nice guy, but not what I’m looking for.”
“What are you looking for?”
Lydia gazed past Izzy’s shoulder. “I want someone extraordinary. Is that so wrong?”
“Someone caring, dependable, and who sticks around is extraordinary.” She shoved another square of creamy chocolate in her mouth. Since Kevin and her friend owned a business together, he couldn’t just up and leave her on a whim. Tannert Winery was a safety net of sorts if Lydia wanted a relationship with her partner. And safety nets were very good things. “You’re passing up something that could be great in hopes of a perfect that doesn’t exist.”
Lydia tore off a square of chocolate for herself. “Just because you picked a bum in your first marriage doesn’t mean I should settle.”
Izzy froze, the chocolate clogging her throat.
“Shit.” Lydia covered her hand with her own. “I’m sorry, Iz. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s okay. I did pick a bum.” God, she’d been stupid at twenty. Dropping out of college to work two jobs while Javier “made his films.” She’d paid for the latest software programs for him to edit and splice and whatever the hell else, believing his shtick that a big break was just around the bend. That Hollywood would come calling when they saw the short films he posted online.
Except the films never got posted. She still wondered what the hell he’d been doing all day while she was at work. It had almost been a relief when he’d packed his bags to head out west, searching for his dream. He’d promised he’d send for her after his big break. Two weeks later he’d sent her divorce papers. Ana had come a month later.
“I know you haven’t had great experiences with men, first your dad taking off, then your loser husband, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get back out there.” Lydia leaned forward. “Maybe you should ask Kevin out. As you say, he is a good guy.”
“And one that only has eyes for you.”
“Well, what about that Brad fellow? He got you to adopt two dogs. He must have a silver tongue.” Lydia waggled her eyebrows. “Don’t you want to see what else that tongue is good at?”
“No,” she said emphatically. Although, yeah, if she was completely honest, she had to admit she had thought of his tongue. And his lips. And other parts of him. Her cheeks heated. “He’s another man who can’t support himself.” She wouldn’t be going through that again.
Biting down on the inside of her cheek, Izzy tried to force down the guilt. Maybe she wasn’t being fair to Brad. He worked hard, and even though he didn’t have a pot to piss in, that didn’t mean he wasn’t dependable.
Didn’t mean he was, either.
“I’m not talking marriage here.” Lydia leaned across the table. “Fun doesn’t have to cost anything, if you know what I mean.”
Izzy knew what she meant. She just didn’t know if she was the type of woman to have a little no-strings fun. She was a mom. Were moms even allowed to do that?
“Even if I were ready for a little fun”—she held up her hands—“and I’m not saying I am, it couldn’t be with Brad.” She leaned close and whispered, “I know information that he’d want to know, but it’s info I can’t tell him, and you can’t have fun with someone you’re keeping important info from. You know?”
“Um, not really? But I’m guessing this has something to do with your work.”
Izzy nodded unhappily and traced her index finger over the condensation ring her water bottle had left on the table.
“This might be the wine talking, but I have an idea. A good one.”
Izzy rocked back. This was going to be interesting. “Lay it on me.”
“Introduce me to your Brad. If he’s as cute as you say he is, and seeing as how you don’t want him, I’ll take a shot.” Lydia darted a glance behind the bar. “Then I’ll bring Brad here, and when Kevin sees me with someone else, maybe the stars will be knocked from his eyes. Then you two can have a shot together. He’s stable and sweet, and real good with Ana. You two would make a great couple!”
Lydia saluted her with her glass, a satisfied smile curving her lips.
No part of that sounded good. Not the Lydia and Brad part, and not the Kevin and Izzy part. In fact, both parts of the idea made Izzy’s stomach cramp. But she couldn’t think of any good reason why that should be, so she forced her lips to turn up and raised her own glass.
“You and Brad and me and Kevin, huh?” Izzy asked.
A shadow crossed Lydia’s eyes. “Yeah, you and Kevin,” she said, and threw back the rest of her wine.
“What the hell?” Izzy clinked her glass against Lydia’s. “Next week you can pick up Ana from the shelter one afternoon. Meet Brad. See what happens.”
She wanted her friend to be happy. Didn’t want to stand in the way of any possible love connections. But she knew. She knew if Brad asked Lydia out, it was going to hurt. Dig a tiny spike into her chest, a constant pain she wouldn’t be able to shake.
What she didn’t know was why.