Mister Moneybags(18)

Dex: How about next Tuesday at our regular time?



Bianca: That would be great.



Dex: Have a safe trip, Bianca.



Bianca: Thank you.



Feeling utterly deflated, I was just about to shut my laptop when another message popped up from her.



Bianca: Dex? Are you still there?



Dex: I am.



Bianca: For the record, I have a firm rule that I don’t date men anymore whom I have a business relationship with.



Dex: Does that rule apply after your business with a man concludes?



She took a bit longer to respond that time.



Bianca: No. I don’t think that rule would apply once my business was concluded.



Fuck you, Jay. Game back on.



Dex: Good to know. Sweet dreams, Bianca.





The next afternoon, traffic was even heavier than usual. The meeting I’d slated one hour for had turned into a three-hour unproductive waste of time. I looked at my watch when the light turned red again—we hadn’t made it more than four car lengths in two damn green lights. There was a heaping pile of documents waiting for review back on my desk, and my secretary would be gone by the time we made it across town. I emailed Josephine and asked her to order me some dinner to the office before she left and to pull the files I knew I’d need to get my work done tonight, if I ever arrived.

Frustrated, I rested my head back against the leather seat and stared out the window thinking about Bianca. Last night, she’d led me to believe she would be willing to go out with me—the Dex me—at the end of our chat. Which had to mean she felt some sort of connection to the real me. I just couldn’t figure out how I was going to get out of the mess I’d gotten myself into. If there was one thing I had learned in business, it was that anything was possible if you wanted it bad enough. Perhaps that was the key—I needed to look at my situation with Bianca like a business problem. I’d been letting my own emotions get in the way.

What would I do if Bianca was a business I wanted to obtain, yet the owner wasn’t interested in selling to me? That was easy…I’d get to know that business better—the likes and dislikes of the owner—what made him tick. Then use that to show him why I was a good fit to take over his company in a way that was meaningful to him.

I shut my eyes for a moment.

What makes you tick, Georgy Girl? What do you like and dislike and why?

I racked my brain for a few minutes and still came up with nothing I could think of that would help me gain an edge. Discouraged, I opened my eyes when we stopped at yet another red light and looked out the window again. To my surprise—the answer was right there in big bold letters. I was looking for a sign and found a literal one on the corner of West 21st and 7th Avenue. The big storefront sign was illuminated in silver letters.

Forever Grey





“Are you here for the six o’clock class, sir?”

“Umm.” I looked around the room and caught a sign taped to the door advertising that tonight was a training class for new volunteers. “Yes. I guess I am here for the class.” Any chance you also have a psychotherapy session after that? It was totally normal to make a pit stop to become a greyhound dog walker when I had a full day’s work ahead of me this evening, right? Even the woman at the counter thought I’d lost my marbles. She looked me up and down.

“Umm. That’s a pretty nice suit. You do realize these dogs tend to slobber a lot, right?”

“Yes. I was planning to change before we started.” My mind, perhaps?

Suzette, as her nametag indicated, thought that was a good idea. Since we had ten minutes before class started, I filled out the registration form and went back outside to my driver. “I’m going to be a while, Sam.”

He was rightfully confused. I’d basically yelled at him to stop and then marched into what appeared from the outside to be a pet facility, yet he knew I had no pets. “Is everything okay, sir?”

No.

“Yes. I forgot I’d signed up to volunteer at the greyhound rescue tonight. It’s part of some charitable thing that Caroline somehow roped me into.”

This lying thing was really beginning to come naturally now. It wasn’t unlike criminal behavior—starting out with petty crimes—one day you’re whacking a gumball machine on its side to make a plastic container filled with a broken ring pop out, and before you know it, you’re robbing a bank at gunpoint.

“Why don’t you take off? I’ll grab a cab back up to the office when I’m done here.”

After Sam drove away, I stood outside of Forever Grey and looked up and down the street to see if there was anywhere to pick up a change of clothes. Finding a Modell’s Sporting Goods store, I headed over and grabbed some sweats, a t-shirt, and running shoes. Ironically, it was almost the same outfit that Jay had on when he met Bianca in that elevator. That actually seemed fitting for some reason.

Ten minutes into the class, I realized that dog walking was more complicated than I thought. Length of leash, walking in front of the canine rather than behind him to show which one of us was the pack leader, rewarding positive behavior, socializing the dog…and here I always thought you clicked on a leash, and the rest took care of itself.