They nodded together like a pair of bobbleheads.“The guy you injured,” Paige added helpfully.
Yeah, thanks for that reminder. “Natalie’s his girlfriend.”
Paige and Katie stared at him as if a pair of elk antlershad sprouted from his head. “Oh, this is better than TV,” Katie chuckled.
T.J. blew out an exasperated breath. “I ran into her in thecafeteria at Craig and didn’t know who she was until after we’d been talking awhile. She’s trying to balance being there for him with work.” He smoothed hishair. “I thought she’d freak out if she knew who I was, so I introduced myselfas Tyler Johnson, which, as I said, is my actual name, minus the Shanstrom. I just want … Christ, I want to help, but if sheknows who I am—”
Paige held up her hand like a trafficcop. “Wait. Does she actually do bookkeeping, or is she some puck bunnywho needs a calculator to figure out what two plus two equals?”
“She’s a CPA, and she knows her shit.” Heat began rising inhis chest as the urge to defend Natalie took hold. Not a good kind of heat.
Paige crossed her arms. “Huh. You do realize this can blowup in your face, right?”
So much. He nodded.
“You’re a masochistic do-gooder who enjoys playing withfire. A weird, but interesting combination.” Paige closed, thenopened her mouth, only to be cut off by the Thor soundtrack.
“Ah. The God of Thunder is calling,” Katie said blandly.
Paige picked up her phone, breathing, “Hey, handsome.”
Katie turned to T.J. and mouthed, “Beckett,” as Paigescurried from the office.
“Thor?” he mouthed back.
“Oh yeah. I think his ringtone for her is ‘Hot Stuff’ orsomething just as ludicrous. Those two are disgusting.” Katie shook her head.“You’d better escape before you see me barf.”
“So do I pass the Katie smell test? Can I have a dog, Mom?Please?” A grin tugged his lips.
“You can have a dog.” Then, in a conspiratorial whisper, sheadded, “Natalie will never learn your true identity from me.” She mimed akey-locking motion in front of her red-lipstickedmouth.
Somehow, her promise did little to curb the feeling he waswading deeper and deeper into Shit Swamp with neither canoe,paddle, nor life preserver.
.~* * * ~.
Natalie fought the urge toface-plant on her couch after she dragged herself and her crap out of Drew’scar into her house. The reason she resisted was on her heels, and she didn’twant him to glimpse what lurked just beneath what she believed was her stoicmask.
Drew sauntered to her fridge and opened it, stared for amoment, then wheeled toward her, looking disappointed. “So you good withoutwheels until Mom’s off work and we can do the car swap-a-roo?If I didn’t have hockey tonight, I’d loan you mine.”
His offer warmed and crushed her at the same time. She hatedneeding his or Mom’s help. They’d been exceedingly supportive since the falloutseven months ago, and she hadn’t even scratched the surface of paybacks.
“I’m good. Thanks for chauffeuring me around to my dogs andcovering the tow to your place.”
“Yeah, no problem. You caught me between consulting gigs, sothe timing was perfect. I’ll head home now and take a look at the Durango.” Hegave her a sympathetic smile on his way out. “Hang in, Sis. It’ll get better.”
She flopped into an armchair. Its normally soothing colordidn’t cheer her; it only made her realize she was as deeply blue as itsupholstery. Mid-afternoon snow clouds glowering outside her window didn’t helpeither.
The Kevin Conundrum, work—or lack thereof—a broken car, andher debits column outstripping her credits were coalescing into a massive baitball that dragged her into inky depths. Her only consolation was that since herclient list had been shrinking, so had her workload, freeing up time to do as she wanted. And she wanted to do … nothing—exceptclimb into bed and pull the covers over her head, but she couldn’t motivateherself enough to get out of the chair, much less change into PJs.
Her phone vibrated on the coffee table, startling her. Who’sthis? Maybe it was Opportunity. She always took those calls. With aswipe of her screen, she forced a song into her voice. “This is Natalie.”
“Hey, this is Tyler Johnson,” a male voice rumbled. Tryingto place him, all she could get out were a series of stammering“ah’s.”
“From Craig Hospital? The cafeteria?” he added helpfully.“Meathead?”
The big guy who needs a dog-sitter! Natalie shook herhead, hoping it would dislodge her tongue. It worked. “Yes, of course. You ateJell-O, and I had mac and cheese.”
He let out a throaty chuckle. “Is that what thatwas?”
“I know, right?” she barked a little too loudly. Cool it,Nat. “I think they’re in the same-color food group.” Her mouth suddenlydried up like the Eastern Plains in July, underscoring her desperation to reelin a new client. “I assume this is about Ford Fido?” The namealmost made her snicker, counterbalancing her hip-hopping nerves.
“Well, yes and no. My, uh, buddy’s made other arrangements,so I don’t have the dog anymore.”
Disappointment rocketed all the way to her toes. She triedto keep it from her voice. “Oh. That’s too bad.”
“Yeah, but I have this idea.” He sounded downrightcheery, obviously none too broken up. “I’d like to get a new dog, one that’sall mine, and I could really use your help.”
Her spidey-senses revved up tostandby mode. What was he up to? “My help to …”
“I found one online, at a shelter, that looks just like Ford, and I’m anxious to get him, but I need a professionaldog-whisperer to go with me so I can be sure we’re … uh, compatible.”
“A professional dog-whisperer?” Skepticism surfaced. “As insomeone who can evaluate the dog’s personality for a match?”
“Yeah. That.”
“I’d like to help, but I’m not qualified. My mad skills onlygo as far as looking after them.”
“Seems like somebody’s selling herself short. Look, I justneed guidance from an expert, and you handle dogs way more than I do, so youhave all the credentials I’m looking for.” He ran on. “I’d be happy to pay youfor your time. Then, of course, I’d hire you to watch him like we talkedabout.”
Oh, so tempting—if he’s not a serial killer. “Whenwere you
