“Maybe I had it wrong.” Sophie sits in the chair Leo vacated, glancing briefly to the side. “Your ass is hanging out.”

“Then please cover me.”

“Nah, it’s just us and Sarah doesn’t scream lesbian.” Sophie places her black-heeled shoes on my bed, crossing her ankles. “I was positive he’s gay.”

“He’s gay?” Sarah tightens the bandage. “No.”

“That’s the word around town. I know looking at him I don’t see it, but he does design dog clothes for a living. Like, bedazzled clothes with bows and rhinestones. We’re not talking hunting coats for Labradors.” Sophie digs into her purse and pops a piece of gum into her mouth.

“Damn it,” Sarah says. “I can’t envision a gay man while my husband and I have sex.”

Sophie giggles and kicks me then snickers. “Sounds like reason number one thousand and forty-two not to wed,” Sophie chimes in. The reporter in her makes her so blunt. I’m not exactly sure what makes her so against marriage.

“Getting pregnant and being Catholic are a reason to wed.” Sarah continues bandaging me and I wish we could hurry this up.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble into the pillow. “That sounds horrible.”

“He’s not all that bad. Just not romantic and he definitely doesn’t have the guns that Leo guy did.” She pats my leg. “All set, Teegan. I’ll grab your discharge papers and you’ll need to sign that other form before you leave.” The latex from her gloves snaps and she throws them away.

I turn over and Sophie’s eyebrows are so high up you’d think she had a bad facelift or about a hundred too many ccs of Botox injected.

“What?”

“He gave you an out.”

“I don’t want an out.” I limp over to my stack of clothes. “I need him, Soph.”

“Next time it might not just be a flesh wound.” She stands to help me get dressed.

“Do you think the dogs can sense I don’t like them?”

She unties the robe from me. “I think they can sense fear. This is exactly why, out all of the clients you could work with, I don’t understand why you chose him.”

“Not as if I had a long list of prospects.” Leo was my only really good lead, the only egg in my basket. I need to make it hatch, otherwise I’ll starve.

“It seemed like he was flirting with you.” Sophie lowered her voice. “I mean, I’d be sniffing around you if I were a man, but he’s supposed to be batting for the other team.”

“I think maybe he gets off on it. He’s made more than one weird comment that had me second-guessing, but he can get away with that if he’s not attracted to me. You know?”

Sophie spins me around and holds out my skirt for me to step into. “Yeah I guess so.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not sleeping with a client. I might as well sell all my belongings now and prepare for the red eviction sticker on my door.”

“That’s the truth. No one has time for that.” She zips me up in the back. “I’m liking the thong.”

“You and Leo both.”

“Maybe he has a fondness for lingerie due to his line of work.” Sophie grabs my computer bag and swings it over her shoulder.

Sarah comes in with some papers and instructions. “Take this ointment home and apply it twice a day.” She passes another piece of paper. “Here are the instructions if you want to press charges. And if you can sit tight for one minute the billing lady, Carol, wants to talk to you really quick.” Sarah pats my hand and walks out of the room.

My eyes shift to Sophie. “I have no insurance.”

She nods and grips my hand. “That dog owner said he’d pay, right?”

I snap my fingers and point to her. “Yes.”

A middle-aged woman—Carol, I presume—walks in a few minutes later with another stack of papers. “Teegan Lowery, right?” She stands, placing one sheet of paper on the table.

“Yes.”

“Your bill has been taken care of, but I just need your signature here.”

“My bill?”

“Well, we have a credit card on file to use. We won’t have final numbers until tomorrow morning after your discharge has been processed.” Carol waits for me to look the sheet of paper over.

“Who paid it?” I ask and Sophie peers over my shoulder, eager to get her eyes on some piece of information.

“They asked not to be named, but wanted you to be assured it was taken care of.” She leans forward.

“Maybe the dog owner?” Sophie asks, but the dog owner doesn’t know my name nor what hospital I went to for treatment.

“Or Leo Vaughn,” I suggest, and Carol’s face lights up, but she’s quick to place her two fingers across her lips and pretend to throw the key over her shoulder. “Great. Now I have to deduct this off of my services.”

“Pretty nice of him.” Sophie’s face contorts.

I sign my name on the piece of paper. “Take me home. I need some Ben & Jerry’s therapy after the day I’ve had.”

* * *

My spoon scrapes the sides of the chocolate peanut butter ice cream container.

“Where’s your mom?” Sophie asks, and the cushion bounces from her plopping down beside me with her own quart of ice cream.

“She’s asleep. Typical.” I opted to come to Sophie’s because my mom isn’t exactly up for visitors just yet. It usually takes about a week before she can be social. Even then it’s questionable.

“Do you want to make it a sleepover?” she asks, situating a pillow on her lap to place her ice cream on.

I shake my head. “I have to check on her. Sometimes she wakes up crying in the middle of the night.”

Sophie’s mouth turns down into a frown and I hate the pity I can see in her eyes.

“My biggest dilemma right now is how to make headway with Leo, not my mother.”

“Well, darling, I don’t think you have the right parts for that venture.”

I kick her lightly in the thigh. “Stop reminding me—or actually, keep reminding me I have no shot there. It’ll make it easier to keep my goal in sight.”

She winks. “What can you get him in a week? He wants more exposure.” She stands, grabs a pad of paper and a pen off the kitchen table, leaving her carton of ice cream behind. Now I understand why she’s so thin.

“Your ice cream?” I remind her. Yes, misery loves company.

“Oh, shit.” She rounds the counter and caps the ice cream, putting it back in the freezer. Her willpower is amazing. Again, she plops down on the couch. “Okay, let’s brainstorm, because I refuse to allow you to be bitten by a dog and not reap any rewards. You’re going to nail this job.”

Sophie has a way about her that makes you think you could build a spaceship and sail into orbit all on your own.

“It doesn’t have to be huge. I mean I can’t get him a meeting with a retailer yet. He needs more exposure at this point—needs more people to know about his company. If I can get his story out there… between that and his boyish face, blond surfer hair and his muscles, I guarantee it’ll snowball after that. Not to mention how much he loves animals. I only spent the day with him, but it’s clear that he has a soft spot for them.” I push the spoon back into the ice cream tub.

“What about a radio station? A commercial or something? Maybe a coupon?” Sophie knows journalism. Public relations? Not so much.

“It’s not the right fit. He designs high-end garments for the dogs. He was designing a set of custom swimsuits for some woman’s dogs the first time I was in his shop. The woman knew him well. I mean, who dresses their dogs like babies?”

“So rich demented women are his target market.”

“Sophie.” I sigh.

“What are you judging me for? You hate dogs.”

“As long as I’m trying to work with Leo—I love them.”

She nods. “True that.” Soph bites on the edge of the pen, her eyes focused on the ceiling. “You should try to get him on a talk show, or what about those game shows where you try to get a deal? The one where all those sharks are circling them?”

I shake my head. “Soph, the sharks aren’t in the studio. The millionaires are the sharks. I don’t think Leo is looking for investors. Hello, he just paid my medical bill.”

“Too bad you can’t work that off another way, huh?” She leans forward and nudges me in the shoulder with her hand.

I stare at her blankly. “Yes, because for years I’ve been trying to find a way into prostitution.”

Sophie rolls her eyes. “Come on. You’d enjoy it if it was Leo Vaughn.”

Heat rises from my neck to my face and I imagine if I looked in a mirror I’d resemble a stop sign. “Let’s leave Leo Vaughn on the logical side of my brain and focus on the creative, brainstorming part for now.”

“You’re no fun.” She taps her pen on the paper.

“I think the television interview would take too long to secure. Not that it’s not an avenue I should seek, but I need something immediate.”

She slaps the paper. “I’m so stupid.”

“Well, I never wanted to tell you. You being my best friend and all.” I laugh and shrug.

Her tongue springs out and she kicks me a little harder this time. “Shut up. What about something in print? Say…a magazine article.”

I sit up straighter, my eyes bugging out of my head. How did I not realize my best friend could secure something that would get Leo to hire me? “You’d do an article on him?”

Her shoulders slump. “No. My editor has me booked for a month, but there is a section of the magazine where she tries to do little exposés. I wonder if I could sell her on Leo? I could spin it something like, ‘Man finds success outside of the silver screen.’” She stops talking as though she’s imagining the interview being conducted and I let her mind wander away for a minute. “Let me send her a quick email, because we go to print in three days. It would have to be fast.”

“That’s fine. I think that even if I can secure a piece in an upcoming issue, he’ll be happy.” I place the ice cream on the coffee table and bounce up and down on the couch. “Oh, my God, Sophie.” I grab her arm and bite my lip to stop the smile beginning to emerge.

“Calm down until we know for sure. She might say no.”

“I have complete faith in your persuasive abilities.” I wrap both arms around her shoulders, pulling her tight into my body. “I owe you like a million.”

“Your friendship is thanks enough.”

“Really?” I pull back, my eyes wide.

“No, but it sounded like something a nice person would say.” She laughs. “If you can transform Leo into a straight male and leave him on my doorstep wrapped in a red bow, we’ll call it even.”

I fall into the soft cushions of the couch. “Sorry, girl, if I transform Leo into a heterosexual, I won’t be sharing.”

She nods. “I can’t even hate you for it.”

We laugh and although my ankle is bandaged up and aches a bit and it’s been a crappy day, everything seems a little better. I sure hope Sophie can secure the interview for Leo because if not, I’m back to being alone in an ocean with no boat in sight.