“He is no big deal. Right, Sophie?”
I give her my best “duh” smile and roll my eyes for added effect.
“Oh, god … no, no no. Don’t tell me you have feelings for him? Real feelings.”
“What does that even mean?” I give her no more than a quick glance. Nope. She’ll see right through me, and it’s not pretty. “Feelings … I have feelings for you. I love you. We’re best friends. I have feelings for the people who work for me. And my patients … I have feelings for them too. Humans feel all the time. It’s impossible not to have feelings.”
I feel her gaze on me, heavy and unblinking. “Was that fun? Concocting so much BS so quickly? Word sparring with me? You’re a total politician. It’s actually a little scary how easily that came to you. Which means … you’ve been thinking about these ‘feelings’ for a while now. You’ve been building a defense for them. You should have been a lawyer instead of an eye doctor.”
Tipping my chin up a fraction, I drum the pads of my fingers on my lips, keeping a close watch on the kids because they are not the ones judging me right now. “I might like him a little. So what?”
“You like him a little? Well, that’s good to know. I think you should like a guy at least a little before you let him put his D-I-C-K inside of you.”
I snort a laugh. “Your kids are eight and ten. I bet D-I-C-K is in their spelling vocabulary.”
“I don’t think their brains are in spelling mode. At least … I hope not.” She chuckles. “Parenting is nothing more than mind games. I say to my husband ‘Don’t be a Richard’ when I’m upset with him. The girls ask what that means, and I tell them people named Richard are often silly. So they think I’m telling their father not to be so silly.”
“Mom of the Year, Jules … Mom of the Year.” I chuckle.
“Shut up. You can’t judge me until you’ve been a parent.”
“I have Jimmy. He’s a Richard. And he acts like a toddler. Doesn’t that count?”
“Fair. I’ll give you that.”
“Here’s the thing with Shep …” I sit up and turn to face her.
Jules grins, silently gloating like she knows me so well, and she probably does.
Yes, there’s so many things about Shep.
“I’m sure he’s emotionally scarred by his failed marriage, even if he’d never admit it. Yet, he’s … easy. He’s the person you like to be around. You know? That person who makes everyone around him feel comfortable and accepted. He’s a smiling baby, a puppy or a kitten. I can’t be with him and not feel joy. Effortless joy. He’s the guy who shows up at the park with a pack of dogs because he can’t imagine dogs at the shelter not getting to explore and play with other dogs just as much as his own dogs. He’s the random phone call in the middle of the day with nothing all that important to say … he just wants to have a conversation because he likes the sound of your voice.”
Jules mouths the word “wow” before whistling. “Dang, Sophie. Just … dang. You’re—”
“I have pregnancy brain. I’m delusional. I’m dealing with Jimmy, and he makes absolutely any other guy seem amazing. Gray is white when you’ve been in the dark for so long. It’s highly likely that I don’t see the real Shep. He could be awful. I mean … he’s divorced. What if it was him as much as her?”
Jules shrugs. “Let him go.”
I frown. “I just … really like him.”
Jules stands and wraps her towel around her waist. “I suggest you unlike him, stay out of his bed, and walk away sooner versus later.”
Unlike him.
Stay out of his bed.
Walk away.
Good plan.
I’m screwed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Five days without a call or text from Shep feels like the perfect opportunity to walk away.
Done.
Over.
Problem solved.
Unfortunately, he’s not my real problem. I’d rather deal with Shep than deadbeat Jimmy. I gave him notice. He’s not gone. Jimmy has doubled, tripled, and quadrupled down on this. Now I have to make time to officially evict him, which, according to my attorney, could take months.
In my self-defeating mental state, I opt for the lesser of two evils as if avoiding both isn’t an option.
“Roll over,” I tell Cersei as we stand in a patch of dirt near my new driveway. They botched up my landscaping while replacing the driveway, and Jimmy didn’t care to fix it. Maybe I can sue him for that. I make a mental note. For now, I’m taking advantage of the exposed dirt … if my stubborn dog will roll in it.
Cersei stares at me; she shakes her head, actually her whole body. She rolls in dirt and shit all the time when I don’t want her to, but now that I actually want her to do it, she wants nothing to do with it?