Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 120189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
With a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni, I give him a totally confident nod, then avert my eyes to the window, reflecting on whose “mystery office dick” Elijah is unknowingly talking about.
28
Benjamin had a long, hard day.
After the door shuts lightly behind me, I kick off my shoes, shrug off my jacket, and drop onto a stool at the bar counter. I pull a glass in front of me and help myself to some whiskey.
Because what else do you do after a day like today?
Just when I’m pouring myself seconds, Lance comes down the spiral staircase and sits at the foot of it to stare at me judgingly. That’s pretty much the only way he ever looks at me lately.
I frown at him, the glass hanging from my grip. “Where are my thousand face-licks, Lancelot? I came home alone tonight. I’m all yours.”
He just stares, unresponsive.
I sigh. “Okay, I get it. You’re pissed. Some total stranger you don’t know came over. Three-and-a-half times. And you feel this deep sense of … betrayal. Am I right? Ballpark?”
Lance lies down on the floor, resting his chin on his paws.
I ditch my glass, hop off the stool, then take a seat on the floor next to him. He doesn’t object. I give his head a rub, itching behind his ear the way he likes it, despite him not responding to it much at the moment.
I half-cuddle Lance, bringing my chin to his head and baby-talking to him. “Are those birds still harassing you on the terrace? The scary birds that squawk and go flap-flap-flap?” I pretend his silence is an answer. “You don’t have to be afraid of them.”
A tiny whimper escapes Lance’s throat. It’s probably entirely unrelated to my mention of the birds, but I put an arm around him and squeeze tighter nonetheless.
The issue is, Lance can’t be walked around the city like other dogs. The first several times (and we’re talking over the course of months) that I tried to take him on a walk, poor Lance howled and protested with such terror that I simply gave up. I built a doggy-door into the door leading out onto the terrace, which has a full garden and considerable patches of grass. There’s even two small trees with a bench underneath one of them where Lance will sometimes lie down.
But lately, we’ve had a team of bullies in avian form who will periodically show up and scare Lance inside. These birds are big, loud, and relentless. Though Lance is able to go out there to do his business whenever he wants, he often waits for me to go out with him, like I’m his guardian against the territorial bird bullies.
His tail starts wagging suddenly, swatting my side softly every second. Then he hops up from the floor energetically and circles around, watching me as he pants, pants, pants.
“Oh, I see. You want to play, do you?”
He starts hopping around in place, then posing, like he’s ready to catch a Frisbee or chase a ball I’m not holding, but could totally produce from nowhere and throw, according to his expression and the canine logic of what crazy ball-throwing magic humans are apparently capable of.
I peel off my socks and toss them aside, then bound after him. Lance goes running off to hide. Even though I know he’s always in the second guest room—since that’s always where he seems to run off to hide first—I give him a few seconds to situate, then call out a little taunting warning before going to “find” him. When his hiding spot under the bed is found, he goes dashing off to his next spot, which will either be in the gym or back out in the living room. I’m not sure when Lancelot and I figured out how to play hide-and-go-seek together, but it just sort of happened over the years without any effort on my part to train him (I think), and he seems to love the hell out of it.
Eventually, he gets that look in his eye and starts whimpering by the terrace doggie door, so I grab my phone off the counter before heading out onto the terrace with Lance, acting as his guardian against the birds. I stroll across the garden while Lance goes about his business, since I note that there are no birds today.
I come to a stop at the railing that overlooks the city, then calmly watch the sun as it slowly begins to sink past the jagged city skyline of ridged condominium towers to the west and the taller skyscrapers beyond.
And somewhere in that sunset is a guy I totally ignored today.
I didn’t just normal-ignore him, as per our agreement. I cold-ignored him when I entered the office, when I went about my day, and when I slipped into the meeting with three other interns. And none of that feels good to me. I need Trevor to know how special he is, and I can’t do that by treating him the way I did today for the rest of the summer.