What Lovers Do(5)

“This is an eighty-dollar top,” treat police lady squeaks.

“I’ll compensate you for your shirt,” Shep says.

“No! I did this. I’ll pay.” I snap out of my stupor and fish some cash from my purse, handing it to the angry lady painted in coffee. “I’m incredibly sorry.” Then I snatch the towel from Shep and crawl on my hands and knees, cleaning the mess while my dog …

Actually, I don’t know where Cersei is at the moment.

“I’ve got this.” Shep squats next to me, pressing his hand onto mine to stop me from cleaning anymore of my mess. “Finish your shopping. It’s no big deal.”

“Um … t-thanks … I’m only getting the tendon. And I promise never to return.”

He laughs, cleaning the coffee at a much faster rate. “That would be a shame. We’d hate to lose your business over a little spilled coffee.”

“I uh …” I’m so embarrassed I can’t string together more than a few mumbled words.

“I’ll meet you at the register in a sec. Boss needs me in back, but you have to promise to return for another visit.”

Never. Ever.

I gulp and nod once.

He disappears to the back of the store for a few minutes before meeting us at the register. I’m third in line behind the treat police.

When he totals her products, I toss my credit card on the counter. “It’s on me.”

She glances over her shoulder, still hugging her fur ball. A tiny smile, that resembles the feeling of a truce, bends her lips. I’m sure it helps that I’m paying for nearly a hundred and fifty dollars in food and toys after having already paid for her shirt.

This is the most expensive trip to a pet store that I’ve ever made.

“How kind of you.” Shep winks at me.

I glance away, biting my lips together, waiting for this misery to end.

After he takes care of the next customer, I set the tendon next to the register and risk a quick glance and apologetic smile.

“What’s your last name, Sophie?” he asks.

“Ryan.” I sweep my gaze around the store to keep from staring too long at him.

“Can I get your phone number?”

“Oh …” I clear my throat and force myself to make eye contact again. “I’m flattered. Really. But I’m not dating right now.”

That is code for: I will be single for the rest of my life because I have lost all dating privileges for eternity. And I’m pregnant.

Shep presses his lips together for a few seconds in an unreadable expression. Have I hurt his feelings?

“The phone number is for our system. With your name and phone number, you can start earning reward points with each purchase. You get a free dog wash just for giving me your name and number.”

If an asteroid struck the earth right now and killed all of humankind, I wouldn’t be mad. Not one bit. I wouldn’t be alive either, but spiritually, I would feel grateful.

Stupid really is the worst feeling. It’s worse than rejection and embarrassment. Everyone gets rejected at some point in their life. Everyone has something embarrassing happen to them—even celebrities and dignitaries wind up with toilet paper stuck to the soles of their shoes.

But stupid is preventable. It’s the result of assumption. I’m the ass who assumed, and I couldn’t feel more stupid.

“Four-eight-zero-seven-three …” I give him my number as quickly as possible so I can get out of here and never return to use my store credit or free dog wash.





CHAPTER FOUR





“Anne is ready for you. How was your weekend?” Nora, my technician, asks as I stand from my desk chair and adjust the high waist of my pants.

I’ve been an optometrist in Scottsdale for three years. I’m the only doctor in my office with a small staff of four.

“Well…” I give her a gummy smile “…I had an argument with Jimmy. I think we might be breaking up.”

I am a sinner, a repeat offender, with nowhere to repent. Jimmy was my last chance to save face with … well, everyone I know. And he failed, which means I failed. It’s humiliating, and I can’t tell anyone the whole truth.

“On Saturday,” I prattle on so she doesn’t focus on the Jimmy disclosure, “I had an embarrassing encounter at Wash Your Tail with a moderate to severely sexy employee there. And yesterday my mom called to let me know Prince Harry died, and she’d really like me to fly home this weekend for the burial. How was your weekend?”

“Oh my god! Prince Harry died?” Nora’s head jerks back, mouth agape. “How … what the … your mom knows him? You know him? I thought you said you’re from Michigan.”

“Prince Harry is … was … my mom’s orange Tabby cat.”

Nora covers her mouth and snorts. “You had me. I honestly thought you had connections to royalty.”

“I do.” I check my teeth in the oval mirror on the wall. “My mom is a royal pain in my ass. She honestly thinks her cat dying warrants me spending hundreds of dollars to fly home for a backyard burial.”

Nora steps aside as I squeeze past her to head to the exam room, her smile falling into a somber expression. “Sorry to hear about you and Jimmy.”