Park Avenue Player(28)

My jaw ticked. “What are you talking about?”

“You never let women get under your skin like this. And I’ve seen her—she’s gorgeous. I think you’re starting to fall for Elodie. And it’s pissing you off. That’s why you’re so crabby.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous? I’d be willing to bet my car that you two will end up in bed in three months’ time—if that long.”

“You’re insane. Your Bentley?”

“Yes. My precious Bentley. I have nothing to worry about, so I can safely say that if you haven’t slept with her in three months, I’ll give it to you.”

“That’s your prized possession.”

“That’s right.”

I returned to the email I’d been working on. I banged on the keyboard and spoke at the same time. “I don’t want your car, Addison.”

“Well, you won’t be getting it.”

I stopped typing. “I’m not going to sleep with Elodie. Not only does she drive me nuts, but Hailey loves her. I would never jeopardize that relationship by inserting myself into it.”

“Oh, you’ll be inserting something, alright.”

I laughed. “Get the fuck out of here.”

I did love my relationship with my business partner. We could talk to each other like two guys hanging out at the bar.

I looked down at my phone. “Shit. I still have to call Davidson.”

“I’ll handle the call with Davidson. You’re all wound up, and from what you told me, you have a lot of shit to do tonight. Why don’t you leave early for the first time in your career?”

“Not my style, Addison. You know that.”

She intentionally pushed my buttons. “Yeah, well neither is driving around birds or trekking up to Connecticut on a Friday night. This nanny sure has you wrapped around her finger.”

“And you sure know how to fucking annoy me.” I was sweating. “On second thought, maybe I do need a breather.” I stood up. “Take the call with Davidson.”

***

The vet’s office was mobbed. There were four people in line in front of me before I could even tell them I was there to pick up my damn bird.

About the time it was going to be my turn, everyone’s attention went to a man who waltzed in with a goat. A fucking goat!

He cut in line.

“Excuse me, gorgeous,” he said to the woman at the desk. He had an Australian accent. “I have a bit of an emergency. The family and I are in the city visiting my sister who just moved here. We drove all the way from California. Anyway, we were walking down the street when a loud popping sound came from under the ground. Still don’t understand what it was—an explosion of some kind. Everyone’s alright. But Pixy here…well, he fainted. He does that from time to time when he’s startled. But this time, he hit his head pretty badly on the pavement. Ever since, he’s seemed a bit disoriented. So, I want to get his head checked.”

I was pretty sure this guy was the one who needed his head checked.

The woman came around from behind the desk and bent down. “He’s so cute.”

Everyone in this damn office was now swooning over a goat. Wait. Not just a goat—a goat in a damn diaper.

“He’s normally potty trained,” the man added. “But when he’s nervous, he gets the shits. Thus, the diaper.”

Thanks a lot, Elodie. Thanks a lot for getting me into this clusterfuck.

“Excuse me,” I finally interrupted. “Shits aside, I’m just here to pick up my bird. Can someone please bring him out?”

“You’ll have to wait your turn, sir.”

“Technically, it is my turn. This gentleman and his goat cut in front of me.”

“I’m sorry, mate. No harm intended. Just trying to make sure my boy is okay.”

“Let’s take him back to see the doctor,” the woman said. She then ushered the man and his goat straight through.

Baaa. I could hear from down the hall.

By the time they brought Huey out, I felt ready to kill someone. My bird looked completely normal. A little hospital tag affixed to his cage read: Huey B. LaCroix.

B? What the hell does that stand for?

“He’s going to be just fine,” the nurse said. “Thank you for coming to get him. I know it was earlier than expected.”

I looked over at Huey and felt a little bad for doubting his need to come here, because he did look a lot better than the morning Elodie had brought him in. As much as I talked shit about him, I never actually wanted anything bad to happen. Some days I just wished he’d fly away to a happier place.

We were almost out the door when I heard it again. Baaa.

That damn goat was loud.

And again... Baaa.

Wait a minute.

It wasn’t coming from down the hall. It was coming from...Huey.

He opened his beak. Baaa.

What. The. Fuck?

I carried him back to the desk. “Excuse me. My bird has only ever said one thing his entire life. He’s hardly made another peep besides that one sentence, and now he’s making goat sounds because apparently he thinks it’s funny to mimic that…animal…back there. You want to tell me how I’m supposed to live with this?”