Holiday In the Hamptons (From Manhattan with Love 5)

“I agree, but I don’t see why one badly behaved canine would make you question our entire business. Our business is fine, Fliss. You’ve done well.”

“We’ve done well.” Fliss emphasized the we and saw Harriet flush.

“Mostly you.”

“That’s rubbish. Do you really think I would have come this far without you?”

“You bring in all the business. You handle the finances and all the difficult phone calls.”

“And you make the animals so happy, and their owners so happy, that our word-of-mouth recommendations are through the roof. It’s our business, Harry. We’re a team. We’ve done well, but now I intend to do better.”

Harriet sighed. “Why? What are you trying to prove?”

“I’m not trying to prove anything. Is it wrong to want to grow the business?”

“No, if that’s what you really want, but I’d like taking the time to enjoy my job. I don’t always want to be rushing to the next thing. And if we expand, we’d have to find premises.”

“Way ahead of you. I thought we could look for something that also has space for an office. Then our apartment might not be flooded with paperwork and I might actually be able to find my bed. And the coffee machine.” She glanced from her phone to the stack of papers on the countertop. It seemed to grow every day. “There used to be a coffee machine hidden somewhere here. With luck I might find it before I die of caffeine withdrawal.”

“I moved it. I had to put it out of Sunny’s reach. He’s chewing everything he can find.” With the puppy still tucked under one arm, Harriet stood up. She pushed Fliss’s shoes to the side of the room and then walked to the kitchen and scooped up the papers. “There’s a message on the machine. I didn’t get to it in time. New business call.”

“I’ll call them back. I know you hate talking to strangers on the phone.” Fliss grabbed an energy bar from the cupboard and saw her twin frown. “Don’t look at me like that. At least I’m eating.”

“You could eat something wholesome.”

“This is wholesome.” She flicked the button on the coffee machine. “So going back to my plan—”

“I don’t want to spend the night in someone else’s apartment. I like my own bed. We’d have to recruit, and that would be expensive. Could we even afford it?”

“If you’d been paying attention at our last company meeting, you wouldn’t be asking me that question.”

“Was that the ‘meeting’ where we had take-out pizza and I had to bottle-feed those kittens?”

“Same one.”

“Then I don’t think I gave you my full attention. Just give me the top line.”

“It’s the bottom line that should interest you, and the bottom line is looking good.” Fliss poured coffee into two mugs, her head buzzing. With each new success, the buzz seemed to grow. “Better than our wildest dreams.” She eyed her sister. “Not that you’re the wild-dream type.”

“Hey, I have wild dreams!”

“Are you naked in them and writhing on silk sheets with a hot, naked guy?”

Harriet turned pink. “No.”

“Then trust me, your dreams aren’t wild.” Fliss took a mouthful of coffee and felt the caffeine bounce through her system.

“My dreams are no less valid than yours just because the content is different.” Harriet settled the puppy in his basket. “Dreams are to do with wanting and needing.”

“As I said—naked, silk sheets, hot guy.”

“There are other types of wanting and needing. I’m not interested in a single night of sex.”

“Hey, if he was hot enough I’d be willing to stretch it out a few days, at least until we’re both dying of thirst or starvation.”

“How are you ever my twin?”

“I ask myself the same question frequently.” About as frequently as she counted her blessings. How did people survive without a twin? If her childhood had felt like being trapped in a windowless room, Harriet had been the oxygen. Together they’d discovered a problem really did seem smaller if it was shared, as if they could carry half each and make it weigh less. And if Fliss knew, deep down, that her sister shared more than she did, she comforted herself with the knowledge that she was protecting Harriet. It was something she’d done all her life. “It’s because I’m your twin that I know your dreams as well as I do my own. Yours would be a white clapboard beach house, picket fence, a sexy doctor who adores you and a menagerie of animals. Forget it. If you want that kind of relationship, you’re going to need to read about it in a book. And now back to business. I think the Bark Rangers could legitimately offer pet sitting and even possibly dog grooming and obedience training. Think of it as an extension of what we do. We can offer packages where we—”