After We Fall (5 page)

Last night, I was
this
close to saying yes to dinner with Hunter. I was this close to forgetting everything I know about myself when it comes to men.

I suck at choosing the right one. Worse, I can't trust myself to choose the right one. So it's no one for me until…well, I don't know exactly. What I do know is that I want to get Hunter out of my head. I want to go one day without something triggering memories of Penn—good or bad.

Barking dogs sound in the room and I smile as I lug a container of dog food to the kennel. While they get their morning workout—today it's yoga—Bob Marley's “One Love” starts playing and I hum along.

Thank God for the animal shelter. Thank God for Saylor.

As soon as I walk in the door, she greets me warmly. Today she is wearing an
ASK ME ABOUT MY T-REX
T-shirt and knee-length khaki shorts. She quickly introduces me to Lucius and Leslie. Then she goes over everything. And I mean
everything
. My head is still spinning from all the information, but luckily, Saylor has a detailed printout ready.

Each dog gets one scoop except for the kennels decorated with blue stars or green diamonds on the front—the rest of the dogs have red hearts so they don't feel left out.
Blue
means “double” because it's a larger dog and
green
means half because it's a smaller dog.

The system makes me giggle, and Lord knows I haven't giggled in a long time. I have Saylor to thank for that since she was the one to come up with the system. Turns out, she's actually the manager here. However, she has to answer to a director who answers to an advisory board. Who knew running an animal shelter was so complicated?

Once I'm done with filling dog bowls, I head back to the supply room to put away the container.

“How's it going?” Saylor asks, opening the door for me.

“So far, so good.” I lift the container to the second shelf and wipe my hands on my jeans. Immediately, Saylor comes behind me and opens the container, then refills it. “I'm sorry, I didn't know I had to—”

“You don't. I'm already here, so I thought I'd go ahead and pitch in. Usually, the last person to leave for the evening has to do this, but since it's Leslie's turn, I thought I'd do it for her, so she can be done a bit earlier,” Saylor explains.

“Leslie's the one who is expecting, right?” I ask, thinking of the tall blonde with a friendly smile I had met earlier.

Saylor nods. “Yes. She goes on maternity in the next couple of weeks.”

“Y'all provide that?”

As she secures the lid on the container, she nods. “The advisory board likes to promote a family-friendly work environment.”

“Does that mean you'll have to go back to six and a half days a week instead of five?” I ask.

“Nope. You're here now.”

I stare at her for a moment, a ball of dread forming in my stomach. “Am I replacing Leslie?”

“Only while she's gone.”

“And when she comes back?”

Saylor pushes her glasses up on her nose. “You'll both be working here. I told you I finally got funds allocated for a new hire.”

What she says doesn't exactly ring true for me. “I don't understand. You said that you needed another person so you wouldn't be overextended, but with Leslie going on maternity leave, you'll be back in the same boat.”

Saylor blushes. “I might have stretched the truth a little.”

“Oh really?” I cross my arms over my chest. “Maybe you should fess up.”

Hesitating, Saylor pulls on a length of dark hair and begins to twist it nervously. “Promise you won't be mad.”

“I can't promise that, but I can promise to listen.” What in the world has Saylor done?

“Right before I met you, Hunter mentioned to me that you were new to the complex and might be looking for a job. So when we happened to meet—I swear that was purely coincidental—I mentioned the job to you and embellished things a little in the hope that you were in fact looking for something. I mean, when Hunter recommends someone, I know they are good people.” Letting go of her hair, she grabs my hand and I'm too stunned to react. “Please don't quit. I can already tell everyone likes you.”

Hunter set this all up? I swallow. On one hand, I hate that he went behind my back and said something to Saylor, but on the other hand, this job is exactly what I need. “Did you tell him that I started today?”

She shakes her head vigorously. “No. He doesn't even know I talked to you.”

For some reason, that makes me feel better. It makes me feel like I don't owe him anything in return. Kind of like our mutual car-washing session last night.

Saylor lets go of my hand. “I'd like for you to stay. We really could use you, even if my work schedule is already out-of-the-world awesome. I mean, I work with animals all day long and get paid for it.”

Pointing at herself, she adds, “Luckiest woman in the world.”

The earnest pleading and genuine enthusiasm about her job are so apparent in her voice that I can't say no. I don't want to say no. “You can make it up to me by having lunch together today.”

Her brown eyes widen, then crinkle a little at the corners. “
Sweet.
Our lunch breaks are at the same time anyway, so no conflicts.”

“Great.” I smile, the ball of dread dissipating quickly. “What's next?”

Saylor grabs a pair of latex gloves, a small shovel, and a small bucket with a lid, then hands them over to me. “You get to clean up poo!”

My smile falls. Seriously? “Now who's the luckiest woman in the world?”

“Not you, that's for sure, because Mr. Rigglesworth had a major blowout right after yoga.” She claps me on the back. “Make sure you hose everything down when you're done.”

Watching Saylor practically skip away, I twist my lips. “Should have quit while I had the chance.”

Two hours later, I've cleaned up more poop from one dog with irritable bowels than all the combined kennels. To be fair, Saylor runs a tight ship and the other employees actually keep everything as pristine as possible, but accidents happen.

Lucius gives me a thumbs-up as I pass him. “Mr. Rigglesworth will get you every time,
mon,
” he says, his Jamaican accent filling my ears.

“Is this a regular occurrence?” I ask, stopping in the hallway.

“Yoga and Bob Marley.” Lucius shakes his head, his black dreads flying. When he smiles, I can count four lip piercings in his bottom lip. “Don't worry, now that you've been fully initiated, I'll take over Mr. Rigglesworth's blowouts.”

“Oh, thank God,” I say in a rush. “Wait…initiated?”

“Hope you're not too angry with us,” Leslie says as she joins us. “New girl or guy always has to deal with Mr. R.”

Leslie and Lucius give me identical, sheepish smiles.

Suddenly, an image of Hunter pops in my head, his smile lopsided as he talks about being the FNG. Oh. My. Gosh. I'm the FNG.

“I'm the fucking new girl,” I practically shout, then slap my hand over my mouth. “Ack. Sorry.” But I'm really not because the thought of being the FNG makes me giddy. It makes me feel like I belong.

Leslie claps her hands together and touches the tips of her fingers to her mouth. “Don't apologize. We've all been there.”

“It's all good,” Lucius agrees. Another flash of white teeth against dark brown skin and he is walking away, humming as he goes.

“Back to the office for me,” Leslie says before waddling away.

I really like them.

Saylor steps out into the hallway, her usual bright smile out in full force. “There you are! Ready for lunch?”

The thought of food makes me slightly queasy, but my stomach rumbles before I can say anything.

“That's a yes.” Saylor threads one arm through mine. “Let's go. I'll drive. The fresh air will help you feel better.”

“Noticed that, did you?”

“The green color of your face kind of gave it away.”

The sun shines bright, making me squint and cover my eyes. “I need to get my sunglasses and purse.”

“Sure thing.” She lets go of me. “I'm the Jeep Wrangler.”

Once I grab my purse and shove my sunglasses on, I get in the Jeep with Saylor. It's bright red and has a stick shift. “You know how to drive stick?”

“Every girl should.”

“For sure, but most don't. A lot of guys don't even know how to drive stick,” I say as she puts the windows down. A warm breeze stirs through my hair as we leave the parking lot.

“True. Gosh, the last guy who took me out drove a smart car. Do you know how hard it is to take a guy who drives a smart car seriously?” she asks. I can't tell if she's teasing or not. “His knees were practically in his chest. How smart is it to drive like that?”

“At least you can keep close for warmth in the winter?”

Saylor bursts out laughing as she shifts into third gear. “He tried that line on me.”

“Didn't work, huh?”

“Ah, no. Plus, he hated my cat.”

“Oooh.” I wince. “That's a hard one to get past.”

“To be fair, she did sink her claws into his testicles, so…”

“Omigosh,” I say, laughing. “Do you normally have first-date disasters?”

She nods. “Unfortunately, I rarely get an invitation to a second one, and never a third.”

“Never?” I turn to stare at her in shock. “But you're…so—”

“Odd,” she says firmly.

“Sweet and friendly,” I disagree.

“Thanks, but I'm an oddball…who happens to be girly, too. I know just enough about
Star Wars
for a hardcore fan to think I'm a poseur. So those guys are out. And, I'm a pop-culture buff, especially the eighties and nineties decades, so hipster dudes think I'm all about consumerism.” Glancing at me, she smiles, but there's an air of sadness behind it. “I'm okay with that because I'm comfortable with who I am as a person.”

“There are other guys out there, you know. You just need to find the right one,” I say, as if I have any business offering dating or relationship advice.

“If you meet him before I do, be sure to send him my way, but make sure he likes animals first.”

Our lunch date is quick, since we get only thirty minutes. Saylor keeps the conversation going by talking about some of her favorite TV shows. A plus for me since I have about eight shows to add to my watch list.

The rest of the day flies by as I take turns at manning the front desk and bringing the cats out to play. Cats playing mostly consists of them running and flopping down in the middle of the room or climbing up towers of carpet. It's oddly mesmerizing.

“You're done for the day,” Saylor says as I herd the last cat into its room.

I check my watch. “But it's only four.”

“You came in at eight, which means four is quitting time.” Saylor grins at me. “You can always clean Mr. Rigglesworth's kennel again, if you're that keen on staying.”

My eyes widen. “First, no. Second, he had another blowout?”

A snort leaves Saylor as she shakes her head. “Just kidding.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime. We love when the new guy cleans up poo.”

“I bet you do,” I grumble.

She bites her bottom lip. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” I head for the door, waving as I go. “Bye.” As soon as I get in my car, I text Piper.

Me:
Can you meet in thirty minutes? I got off work earlier than I thought I would.

Piper:
Absolutely. Same place?

Me:
Yes.

Piper is waiting for me at a table for two by the time I arrive at the Tea Shop. The smell of cakes and cookies in the small café reminds me of home. My momma would love this place.

“It's so good to see you,” Piper says, rising to her feet to hug me. I try not to flinch, but my body tenses anyway. She lets go immediately and I feel like a loser for reacting that way. “Sit down and tell me about your new job.”

Trust Piper to not mention my behavior. I think it's why she's so good with people. She doesn't push and she can tell when something makes them uncomfortable.

“It's at Forrestville Animal Shelter—I started today.”

“Wow. That's great!” She expertly pours two cups of tea and hands one to me. “I'm not sure how you take it, so you'll have to add whatever you'd like.”

“Thanks.” Adding three cubes of sugar and then stirring, I stall for time, unsure if I should talk more about my job or get right to the point of why I asked her to meet with me.

After a couple of minutes of silence, getting right to the point wins out. “I need someone to talk to.”

Piper nods. “A professional, or would you like to talk with me?”

I shrug. “I'm not sure.”

“If you need more time to decide, that's fine, but maybe, in the meantime, you can talk about what made you reach out to me?”

My face heats and I feel like a loser again for not texting her sooner. Although she never made me feel like I had to talk to her, she did make it clear that she wanted to be my friend. “I…uh…There's this guy and he's interested in me, but I'm not. Except my”—I draw circles with my hands, trying to find the right words—“parts of me are interested.”

“I see.”

Glancing around the room, I make sure no one is near us before I continue. “I'm not normal. I'm not acting like someone who's been…hurt. I…One minute I want to run away from him and the next…I'm drawn to him, but I can't trust myself.”

“Evangeline, there isn't a
right
way to act. How you react to situations is the true or right way for you. Anyone who tells you any different not only is a liar but has no heart,” she says fiercely. “Just because they wouldn't do what you do doesn't mean it's wrong.”