chapter 9
HUNTER
A COUPLE OF DAYS LATER, I’m sitting in my office, replying to emails, when Arabella walks in, paperwork in her hands.
I stand, surprised, and offer her my hand. “You doing house calls now?”
She smiles, her blond hair framing her face in a new, shorter cut than I remember. “When you call in a favor, you don’t fuck around, do you? Your client is a nightmare. How do you put up with him? I can’t wait to rip him a new one in court.”
“Ah, come on, I’m sure he has some charm hidden somewhere,” I joke.
“I’m assuming he’s not going to give her an inch?”
“He’s not agreeing to her requests,” I say. “Hence the court date later this week.”
“The judge isn’t going to go in favor of him,” she says, pointing out the obvious.
“We will have to see how it goes,” I say, even though I agree with her.
“I’m curious, Hunter. Why did you call me in for this? You could have saved the favor for something much more important than this. You did save my life, after all.”
What feels like a lifetime ago, Arabella and I used to be a little more than friends, but less than lovers. To put it mildly, we were friends who fucked in between classes and exams, helping each other out with the stress. One night on campus, though, she was attacked by three men. Luckily I was returning to my dorm, and I was able to stop them before anything serious happened to her. I, on the other hand, got the crap beaten out of me.
“Riley is a friend, and I care about her, but my hands are tied,” I explain, shrugging. “Needed someone I can trust. And Arabella, you’re making quite a name for yourself.”
She arches her brow, a smug look passing through her blue eyes. “Not as big of a name as your firm . . . yet, anyway.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “You always were competitive.”
“And you always gave me a challenge.” She stands and studies me. “Riley seems nice, and she’s beautiful too. You always had good taste, didn’t you, Hunter?”
My lips kick up in the corners. “You making assumptions, Arabella?”
“I know you better than to make assumptions. Just be careful, Hunter. You’re on a slippery slope,” she says.
Why does everyone have to remind me of this? “I know.” Silence follows.
“Well, I will see you in court. It’s a shame you handed me an easy win on a silver platter,” she says, offering me her hand. I take it, glancing at my watch on my other wrist. “Speaking of court, I’m meant to be there soon. The stripper is officially divorcing the CEO today.”
“Who says divorce law is boring?” she murmurs, a contemplative look on her face. “It’s like you get to be petty all day and realize that your life isn’t so bad after all. Don’t you think?”
I laugh at that. “Is that what we do? Pretty sure there’s more to it than that.”
“You help your clients be petty and fight for whatever they want, usually things they’ve accumulated with people they once loved but now dislike. Come on, look at Jeremy. That’s some petty shit right there,” she replies, expression daring me to disagree.
I start laughing again. “Fine, Arabella, our job is to assist people with their pettiness. Let the pettiest lawyer win.”
She grins at me and shakes her head, her hair flipping with the motion. “Nice seeing you, Hunter.”
“You too,” I tell her, watching as she moves to leave.
She stops and then adds, “And as Riley’s attorney speaking to Jeremy’s attorney—Riley will be getting her dog, her business, the property that business is on, and if I can help it, some money as well, and she’s walking away with her head held high. Jeremy is going to lose. He’s already lost by fucking things up with such a beautiful woman. And when I say beautiful, I’m not even touching on her looks.”
“I know,” I reply, a little surprised at how much she seems to have taken a liking to Riley. “Trust me, I know.”
Riley is a teddy bear, she can deny it all she wants, but I know who she is, even when she thinks I don’t. I know she gives free meals to the homeless. I know she drives drunk people home some nights when she doesn’t have to, and even though it’s unsafe for her, because she doesn’t want anyone to crash. I know that she pays her staff more than she probably should, because she doesn’t want them to struggle, and I also know that she feeds the stray dogs on the street behind her bar, where the trash cans are.
“See you in court.”
I nod and watch her leave.
Arabella is going to give me a run for my money, and that’s just what Riley needs.
I WALK INTO WORK on Monday morning, making two stops before I hit my office, one to chat with Yvonne, and the other to steal some snacks from Kat’s office. Hands full, I sit down, placing my stolen goods on my desk, then turn on my laptop. When Yvonne sticks her head in my office not even an hour later, I can tell something is wrong from her expression.
“What is it?” I ask, standing up. “Is everything okay?”
She steps in and closes the door behind her. “Jeremy just rang and said to pass on a message to you.”
“What’s happened?” I ask her.
“He admitted that he doesn’t know where Riley’s dog is. He says Bear escaped his house.”
Rage fills me. He lost Riley’s dog? Did he even go looking for him? How the hell did he let this happen?
“How long has he been missing for? Do you think he did this on purpose?”
That fucking bastard. The only thing Riley wants is the dog, and now he’s “lost” him. I bet he dropped him off somewhere, gave him away, or left him at the pound. The man truly is a total piece of shit. And he tells me this via a phone call with our receptionist? As Yvonne leaves, I call Kat into my office and give her a quick rundown on the situation.
“I can’t fucking believe this,” she growls, pacing up and down. “I can only guess, but I’m thinking this must have been his plan all along. He knew he was going to have to give her the dog in the end, and he probably didn’t want to do that,” she says, covering her face with her hands. “How the hell do we handle this? We can’t tell Riley, because of client confidentiality. How do we get out of this one? That dog is the only thing getting her through everything right now. All she wants is him back.”
I don’t know. I’m supposed to be supporting Jeremy, and if this was any other client I’d remain adamant that this was indeed a mistake, and that there’s no proof to say otherwise. But this is Riley’s beloved pet that’s lost, and instead of me finding excuses, I need to find the dog. Riley is not going to lose someone she loves, fur baby or not.
“I’ll fix this,” I whisper, jaw clenching. “I really want to beat the shit out of this asshole, but we all know I can’t do that. We need to find Bear. Do we have a picture of him? Maybe I should go to the local pounds and have a look? This is going to stress her out if she finds out about this.”
“I can get a picture of him from her social media,” Kat says, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “How busy is your day? Can you clear it? Who knows how long this dog search will take.”
I press the button on the phone that reaches Yvonne.
“Yes, Hunter?” she says into the line.
“I need you to clear my day,” I tell her. “Can you reschedule my appointments?”
“Sure thing. Bear hunt?” she asks, worry in her tone.
Bear hunt? I’m assuming that pun was unintended.
“Yes,” I tell her.
There’s silence for a few seconds, and then she says, “Okay. If you need me. I’m there.”
“Someone has to run this place, Yvonne.”
“Fine,” she sighs, hanging up on me.
I do a search for all the pounds in our area and write down all their numbers. “Let’s get searching then,” I say to Kat.
I figure if we call all of them up, it will save time. If none of them say they’ve found an Alaskan malamute, then I’m going to have to come up with a plan B. In an ideal situation, I’d have found him and brought him back to her before she even knows he’s lost, but we all know that life doesn’t always work like that.
As a matter of fact, it rarely does.
A FEW HOURS LATER, four to be precise, I find who I think is Bear in a shelter on the other side of the city. He looks like the picture Kat showed me, but what if it isn’t him? I can’t go up to Riley and say, “Hey, look who I found,” only for him to be some doppelgänger dog.
“It has to be him,” Kat says, eyeing the large animal. He doesn’t have a collar on but appears to be in good health. He keeps looking between the two of us, probably wondering who the fuck we are. He even has his tongue lolling out the right side of his mouth. Can a dog look ditzy? Because that’s the only word I could use to describe him.
He’s clearly a friendly dog, who obviously doesn’t know about stranger danger, because he jumped onto me without hesitation.
And he’s huge.
I mean enormous.
No wonder she named him Bear.
Still, he doesn’t have a threatening look about him. He looks like a big softy, a giant teddy bear, even. I don’t think Riley could use him as a guard dog. Then again, maybe he just likes us because we saved him from impending doom.
“Bear,” I call, testing to see if he responds to his name.
He licks me, then starts to sniff around my foot.
What does that mean in dog language?
“Ummm,” I murmur, examining him. Why couldn’t he just have one of those name collars on? Although I guess then he would have been able to find his way home, something Jeremy clearly didn’t want. I glance up at Kat, silently asking for her opinion.
Kat glances down and studies him, and then calls out, “Rover?”
He licks her.
And then starts to sniff her.
We share a look.
If it’s not him, we are all fucked, doppelgänger Bear included.
Is one of us going to have to adopt him if he’s not Bear?
The three of us head to Riley’s, and hope for the best.