Читать книгу Like Cats and Dogs - Alexis Stanton - Страница 5

Chapter One

Just as the train pulled into the South Haven station, Laura Haley’s phone buzzed. Laura rarely travelled by train, and she’d spent the journey from Lansing feeling like an elegant heroine in one of the classic movies she loved so much. She suppressed a sigh when she saw that the caller was her mother. So much for feeling glamorous.

Do I answer it? Laura wondered as she rose from her seat to get her luggage. She wasn’t even a minute into her vacation, and already they were checking on her.

As if sensing her distress, Laura’s dog Frank whined and tugged on his leash. She gave the part-beagle, part-who-knew-what a comforting rub on his head before finally picking up.

“Hey, Mom.” Laura tried to hide her impatience. But for goodness’ sake, she was twenty-three, not ten. A college graduate, even. She didn’t need her parents monitoring her every movement.

Passengers began collecting their bags and heading toward the exit. Laura took her duffle bag and rolling suitcase from the luggage rack—no easy feat considering she also juggled Frank’s leash and her cell phone. Her mismatched bags didn’t help, either, with their varying sizes and weights. She was good at filing multiple tax returns, but much less organized when it came to just about everything else.

“Honey?” Her mother’s concerned voice came through clearly despite the hum of activity surrounding Laura. “Where are you? Did you make your train? Have you arrived?”

As if her mother could see her, Laura pasted on a smile while she stepped onto the platform. “Yes, Mom, I’m getting off the train right now.”

“We were worried when we didn’t hear from you.”

Movement surrounded Laura on all sides. People hurried with their bags, and passengers were being greeted by relatives and, oh, brother, significant others.

I’m here alone by choice, she reminded herself. Besides, I’m not alone. I have Frank.

The dog strained on his leash, excited by all the commotion, and she struggled to keep hold of him while also talking to her mother and muscling her bags down the platform.

“I told you,” Laura said with enforced patience, “I would call as soon as I got to the rental place.” She stopped to adjust a strap on her suitcase.

“We’re already at wits’ end here.”

“Mom, it’s only for two weeks. I’m sure you and Dad will be fine.” She glanced around at the other passengers hustling back and forth. Was it her imagination, or were they sending her pitying glances?

One year out of college and I’m still my parents’ little girl.

“I don’t know,” her mother said, and Laura could practically hear her pacing up and down in the kitchen of the family home. “It’s April. It gets so hectic here in April.”

Laura grabbed hold of her suitcase handle and trudged with it into the station, all the while praying Frank wouldn’t tug her arm right out of its socket with his eagerness.

“Yes, I know it’s our busy season, Mom,” she said briskly. “You were the ones who also told me I needed a vacation, so, here I am.”

Tax season was always a frenzy at Haley & Haley Accounting, but Laura had made certain that she’d taken care of all her clients’ filings before going on vacation. She’d never leave her parents in the lurch—especially since they not only employed her but housed her as well.

All of her friends from college lived on their own, and none of them worked for their parents. Not her. Without a clear plan after graduation, she’d moved back home and reluctantly gone to Haley & Haley for the same job she’d had every summer since sophomore year of high school.

What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I figure out what I want?

Hopefully, this time away in South Haven, Michigan, would help clear her head a little. At the least, she’d get some much-needed time away from her parents—and memories of yet another failed relationship.

Her mother said, “Don’t forget to hold on to all your paperwork.”

Frank whined louder and tugged hard on the leash. Something had gotten his attention.

“I will keep my receipts. Don’t worry.” Laura tried to hold tighter to Frank, but he wriggled with the need to run.

“Of course you will,” her mother said with satisfaction. “You’re the daughter of two accountants.” She exhaled. “I hope you have a good time, honey. We love you.”

“I love you, too.” They might be a touch overprotective, and a little straitlaced, but there was no denying the fact that her parents cared about their only child and just wanted the best for her.

She’d barely pressed the button to end the call when Frank gave one last tug on the leash. He broke free, and her stomach dropped as he went tearing through the station, weaving between passengers. Clearly, he pursued something that had caught his attention.

Laura sprinted after him. “Frank! Frank!”

Just like his master, her dog refused to be sensible. He barked with excitement as he ran, causing people to stop and stare.

Laura didn’t have time to be embarrassed. She had to grab her dog before he ran right out of the station and hurried off to get lost in the lakeside town. “Frank!”

Her dog came to an abrupt stop in front of a hard-sided animal carrier perched on a rolling luggage cart. He continued to bark while he pawed at the plastic. Inside the carrier, a long-haired cat the color of smoke hissed in response to its harassment.

A blond man crouched in front of the carrier, as though protecting the cat. “Whoa, down, boy,” he said to Frank. “Down.”

Grabbing hold of the leash, Laura pulled Frank back. “He got away from me. I’m sorry.”

The man looked up at her, and all she could see for a moment were striking blue eyes, bright with intelligence. Trying to collect herself, she saw that the rest of the man was just as striking. He had the face of a fairy-tale prince, with full lips and square jaw. His fair hair was neatly combed. In fact, everything about him was neat, from the collar of his shirt peeking out above the neckline of his sweater to his navy blazer and pressed khakis.

Cute, but not my type, she told herself. Yet she stared at him anyway.

Maybe she was imagining things, but he stared right back at her as if snared in some kind of spell.

Finally, he blinked, collecting himself. “Uh…that’s okay.” He straightened but said to the cat, “You all right, Mozart?”

Interesting name for a cat, considering the origins of Frank’s name. “Mozart?”

“Yes,” the handsome stranger said. “After the composer.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “I know who Mozart is.”

He gave her a small, sheepish smile. “I’m sure you do. No offense.” He bent down to look at his cat. “You okay, Mozart? Is this mean dog scaring you?”

“Frank’s not really mean.”

“Frank,” the stranger repeated.

“After the singer,” she said, her words dry.

He ducked his head a little, acknowledging his own faux pas. Still, his gaze remained locked with hers. A moment passed before he said with an attempt at politeness, “Well. Anyway. Excuse me. Hope you have a nice day.”

“You, too.” She felt oddly disappointed as the cat owner pushed the cart away, taking his pet and matched luggage with him as he made his way to the exit.

That was interesting.

And fleeting. She was alone with Frank in the bustling station.

“You’re not really mean, are you, Frank?” she asked the dog. In response, he wagged his tail. It never failed to make her smile. “No, you’re not. Let’s go.”

She went back and, with Frank’s leash clasped firmly in her hand, collected her luggage. Good thing South Haven was a small town, because her bags were right where she’d left them. If anyone had stolen her stuff—especially the bag with her camera—she would’ve been devastated.

But everything was fine, and, after gathering up the luggage, she took a deep breath and made for the exit. Her vacation started right now. There would be nothing but relaxation for the next two weeks.

It really shouldn’t be this difficult, Spencer Hodkins thought as he stood in front of the car rental counter.

But perhaps he was being too demanding. He was still thinking about the adorable blonde with the dog—Frank, for Frank Sinatra, which charmed him—and probably wasn’t articulating his specific needs to the rental agent very well.

He glanced behind him at the line. Nobody looked very happy that he was taking so long, but he liked what he liked, and if he was going to have the expense of a rental car, it needed to meet his needs.

“It should have wireless capabilities,” he said to the agent, who looked back at him with her best customer service face. “Electric, obviously.” He wanted to be as eco-conscious as possible. “And, if it has a sunroof, it should have a UV coating on the interior glass as well.”

When his cell chirped, he said to the agent, “Excuse me for a second.” He turned away slightly to answer the call—it was Susan. “Hi, honey,” he said when the pretty brunette’s face appeared on the screen. She was, as usual, perfectly groomed, her hair neatly contained by a headband and a string of elegant pearls encircling her neck.

For some reason, he thought again of the girl from the station, and her tousled blond locks. She’d looked like some wild elf who’d just emerged from the forest. Whoever she was, she’d seemed the exact opposite of Susan, in every way.

“Just getting my rental car,” he said to Susan.

“Electric?” she asked.

“Obviously.”

“UV? You know how you burn.”

He smiled at that. Susan always tried to take care of him. “I’m not going to be outside that much, anyway. I have two weeks to finish my dissertation.” He shoved down the panic that rose up whenever he thought of his lengthy paper and everything it represented.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Susan said crisply. “You really need to focus, Spencer. My father doesn’t give out grants to just anybody.”

“I know.” Dr. Philip Drake wasn’t only Susan’s father; he was also the head of the university’s psychology department. Spencer’s whole future rested on Dr. Drake’s approval. The thought made Spencer’s stomach clench in anxiety, but he took a breath, forcing himself to be calm. Emotions were merely chemical reactions, and he could control that.

The people behind him in line grumbled at the holdup.

“Hey,” he said to Susan, “I’ve got to go.”

“Call me later,” she answered in a tone that commanded him to do exactly that.

“I will.” Automatically, he added, “I love—”

Susan ended the call.

“You.” He ignored the stab of disappointment that went through him. Susan was Susan. She liked everything on her terms. Just like Spencer wanted everything to be precise and orderly. They were perfect for each other. No messy feelings, no unruly emotions. Yes, perfect.

“My girlfriend,” he said by way of explanation to the people behind him. “She worries.”

No one said anything back, but a few of them scowled.

With an apologetic shrug, he turned back to the waiting agent. He needed to get to the rental house as soon as possible and start working. The world of research was just as controlled and safe as his relationship with Susan—exactly how he wanted it.