Smokescreen

“Actually yes.” She maneuvers some pillows behind me and pushes me back, falling forward. Her body molds to mine and we don’t move.

“I’ll be right back, she needs to go out.” Stella says softly pulling away from me.

I groan into my pillow and lift up on my elbows to watch Stella throw on my shirt and then unlatch the kennel. I hear them pad through her house to the back door. It’s two minutes until they come back to bed and Stella puts her back in the crate.

“I’m beginning to understand why you want a yard.”

“Honey, we’ll start working on potty training right away. Especially in your place.”

“Our place, and I’ve got that handled. You’ll get a call next week from a trainer. She’s certified and recommended. I don’t want you out all hours of the night walking the dog.”

“Okay, but is it too soon?”

“No, I spoke to all the people at the society. Brutus—or whatever—is going to be big. Her lineage is uncertain. They think she’ll do well with training.”

“Okay, but I want to be there all the time. She’s going to the office with me during the day. I’m so in love with her already, I can’t believe you got her.”

“Believe it.”

“Do you have any names in mind?” she asks me sleepily.

“No, but we need to think of something soon.”

“It may sounds silly but what do you think about waiting a few days? I think a name should reflect who she is.”

“I’m thinking that sounds smart.”

“Max, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I have another surprise.”

“What?”

“I have a check for seventy five percent of your unpaid invoices.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, babe, and I promise the next time you don’t tell me you’re getting screwed—financially by a company—I will spank the ever living shit out of you.”

“Max—”

“No, my company can and will pay you. You should have told me. Now I have to kick some ass when I get back in town.”

“Do you have any idea how much I’ll miss you?”

“Can you come to New York with me?”

“No, I wish, but I have new business and loose ends at JOS. When you get back I’ve scheduled several more TV and radio airtimes for you.”

“Christ, more?”

“Yeah, but these will be more declarative. You’ll have the first half of the factory ready.”

“Okay, but look at a weekend in November for you and me to get away again?”

“Absolutely. Anything you want.”

My head spins as I hang up the phone and look at my calendar. One more client phone call is going to kill me. It’s not a secret that Max and I are together, but every socialite in a two hundred mile radius wants me to run their charity or non-profit gala in hopes that he and I will attend and he’ll give a donation.