The Foxe & the Hound

I’ve never liked her more.

But I can’t let her get away with it. I knew Adam first, and if he’s going to be anyone’s client, he’s going to be mine.

I wait another minute or two as a few more students filter out of class, and then I make my move. I’m sure there are ways of being sly and polite about it, but I need to strike while the iron is hot.

“Dr. Foxe, can I steal you for a second?”

He finishes up his conversation with another attendee and then directs me to the side of the room. He seems pleased that I came to talk to him, which I take as a good sign.

“Did you have fun in class?” he asks, reaching down to pet Mouse. He knows just the spot to scratch behind Mouse’s ear, and my dog is basically putty in his hands.

“Yeah, it was great. I already feel like Mouse has improved, and it was only one class.”

“That’s great.” Adam looks up at me and I’m momentarily blinded by those green eyes. They really are something.

But I’m not here to ogle his eyes.

“Yeah, so listen…I know Lori probably just mentioned something about being a real estate agent…”

He laughs and pushes back to stand. “Yeah, she gave me the whole spiel.”

“Ugh, how annoying for a realtor to assault you the first time meeting.”

He shrugs and I continue while I still have the nerve.

“But since this is like, I dunno, the fifth or sixth time we’ve met, I figured I should let you know that Lori and I actually work at the same agency.”

He nods slowly, probably putting the pieces together, but I can’t assume anything. I need to make myself perfectly clear.

“And if you were looking to purchase a house here, I would love to represent you. I mean, Lori is great, but ughh, so tactless, am I right?”

I laugh then, but he doesn’t join me.

“Is this what you wanted to talk about?” He tilts his head, studying me. “Selling me a house?”

“Oh, umm…yeah.” I’m floundering. “Basically I just wanted you to know that I’d love to work with you.”

He tugs his hand through his hair and backs up. “Jesus, you people are relentless. At least she had a business card.”

Abort. ABORT.

“No! I just didn’t want to let the opportunity pass without—”

He laughs and backs up. “Well you definitely didn’t let the opportunity pass. Now your behavior at Lucas’ housewarming party makes way more sense. I thought you were bipolar there for a second, but now I realize you were just being nice to me because you want my business.”

Sort of…yes.

“No!” I lie. “Of course not. I’m not like that, I’m a nice person!”

“When it benefits you,” he adds, and I feel my cheeks burn.

It’s not true, not really.

I hold up my hands in defense. “Listen, let’s forget I ever said anything. Clearly you’re not looking for a real estate agent, and even if you were, it definitely wouldn’t be me.”

My self-deprecating humor completely deflects off him. His mouth is tugged into a sharp frown, and I just need to leave. There’s no way I’ll salvage the situation.

“Okay, well, I better get Mouse home. He needs his dinner.”

I did too before this conversation completely stole my appetite. He doesn’t offer anything more than a curt goodbye, and I’m left with a painful sensation in the pit of my stomach on the drive home. Mouse is hanging out the window, happy as can be, but it doesn’t cheer me up. I arrive back at my lonely apartment, ignore the melodramatic RENT OVERDUE sign taped to my front door, and flip on the light.

Mouse’s toys are strewn across the tacky brown carpet. My secondhand furniture is in desperate need of replacing, and sadly, the mess of dishes I left in the sink last night is still there, taunting me. I crack open the fridge, take in the pitiful fare, and slam the door closed again. There’s no denying it: my life is crumbling. I’m days away from caving and moving back in with my parents—either that or just leaping into the Rio Grande and letting it carry me down to Mexico.

Hola, me llamo loser.

I slide down to the floor and don’t even realize I’m crying until Mouse trots over and starts licking the tears from my cheeks. It’s the saddest, sweetest moment of my day, and I don’t fight his affection. I wrap my arms around his abundant fur and pull him closer.

He licks and licks, and I don’t even mind his puppy breath. It’s soothing, right up until I glance down and see the two kneepads sticking out of the top of my purse. They make me cry harder.CHAPTER SEVENADAMI’m in a lousy mood the next morning and though I’d like to blame it on my packed schedule, deep down, I know that’s not what’s bothering me. I was too hard on Madeleine last night at the end of the training class. At the time, I was pissed, and maybe somewhat…embarrassed. I went out of my way to invite her to the training class and bring her a little peace-offering, and though I’m good at denying it, I’m attracted to her—yet every chance she gets, she reminds me that she doesn’t see me that way. To her, I’m a potential client, nothing more.