Second Chance Girl
Page 33
“About?” she asked, following him into the house.
“The giraffes. He and your uncle had just started working on the best routes to get Millie’s herd here. He said you’d stopped by earlier. The barn construction starts Monday. Did he mention we’ve settled on three giraffes, not counting Millie?”
“No, he didn’t.” She set her purse on the kitchen counter, then watched as he poured her a glass of white wine. He opened a beer for himself and led the way into the family room.
“Based on the cost of the giraffes, their care and feeding and transportation expenses, three makes the most sense. Plus any more would mean too much work for you.”
She’d seen her father yesterday. When had all this happened?
She settled on the sofa because there was no way she could sit in one of the chairs. Especially not the chair, where they’d done it. Or rather he’d done it to her and she’d had the best orgasm of her life. Nope, no chair for her.
Sophie jumped up next to her and snuggled close. Carol began to pat her as Mathias took the non-sex chair and rested his forearms on his knees as he leaned toward her.
“My brothers and I can be real competitive, so we’re each taking a giraffe,” he said. “For the trip. We’re mapping out a route from where they are now to here. The first one who gets a giraffe to Happily Inc wins.” He grinned. “It’s really complicated. There are permits required and we’re crossing state lines. No bridges, no overpasses, which means a lot of back roads.”
“How on earth do you do that? Don’t tell me there’s a Google app for giraffe transportation.”
“Not yet, but there’s a lot of information. Plus you can call people. I had to ask about a bridge in this one town in Texas and the guy at the gas station went out and measured for me. He was really interested in what we’re doing.”
He sipped his beer. “So I was thinking, you should get in touch with some local media. They’d find the story appealing and it would help raise awareness for the foundation. You’re going to need ongoing donations for taking care of the giraffes, and the other cows.” The grin returned, then faded. “Plus the whole vet training.”
OMG! How much time had he spent with her father? “Is there anything you and Ed didn’t discuss?”
“I’m not sure. Probably not. My point is you can use this to your advantage. Fill the bank with lots of coin and save the world. Anyway, Nick and Ronan are in. They’re planning their routes. Once we have them done, we figured we’d hire some college students to drive them, just to confirm no one has to ask a giraffe to bend her head to fit under something.”
“I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I’ll admit, I find it confusing. Why are you doing this?”
His eyebrows drew together. “Why not?”
“You’re busy with your own life.”
He straightened and waved her comment away. “This is fun. I mean, come on. How often do you get to call total strangers and ask them to measure a bridge because of a giraffe?”
“Practically never.”
“See? It’s great. Maybe I’ll create a line of giraffe-inspired dishes. The pattern’s kind of dense, so maybe just for a border.” He pulled open a drawer in the end table and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. Seconds later, he was sketching away, as if they hadn’t been talking.
“You’re so weird,” she muttered and stood. Sophie got up and followed her, tail wagging.
“And you are the most cheerful dog,” Carol told her and opened the back door.
They went out together. Sophie made a beeline for the lawn where she sniffed and sniffed before settling on the right spot for a bathroom break. Carol looked over the vast expanse of the animal preserve and tried to imagine what it would look like when Millie had her herd.
It would take time for everyone to settle. Each of the giraffes would have to get used to new surroundings. She would keep them on their regular diet for a few months before slowly transitioning them to what she fed them here. Speaking of feeding them, she would have to talk to the supplier where she got her food now. Every day she hoisted tree branches to Millie height so the giraffe could eat away, as if she were in the wild. More giraffes meant more food to be ordered.
They didn’t just need a full-time vet, she realized. She would need an assistant, maybe two. The new giraffes would require monitoring, especially when they started meeting each other. She had the rest of her animals to care for, as well.
A quality problem, she told herself.
When Sophie had finished investigating the backyard, they went back inside. Mathias had moved to the kitchen table. He had several sheets of paper scattered around him. Each was a variation on a giraffe print, some with a border, some not. She wondered how often he was like this—losing himself in his work. She supposed it could get really annoying over time, but she was new enough to the process to find his intensity charming. Of course she found everything about him charming, so that was hardly news.
She went into the kitchen and read the instructions for heating the ribs, then started the oven. She set the dining room table and put the ribs on a cookie sheet, then waited for Mathias to surface.
But while she was willing to be patient, Sophie was not. The little dog walked up to him, put her paws on his thigh, shoved her head under his arm and barked. Mathias blinked.
“What?” He looked around at the papers on the table, Carol standing in his kitchen and the dog licking his arm. “Oh, sorry. I got involved in my work.”
“I could see.”
“What time is it? You could have told me to quit being an ass. It’s just dishes.”
“It’s not just dishes, it’s what you do. Has Sophie been fed?”
“Yes. Did she try to tell you otherwise?” He shook his head. “You always do that and I never fall for it.”
Sophie swiped his chin with her tongue, as if pointing out a dog had to try.
“Do you want to work more or are you ready for dinner?” Carol asked.
“I’m starving.”
She put the ribs in the oven and set the timer for twenty minutes. “It won’t be long now.”
They worked together to finish setting the table. Carol was still on her first glass of wine and noticed he hadn’t gotten a second beer. Apparently they were going to stay sober for their meal—a good thing considering what they’d done the last time they’d been together in his house.
For a second she thought about just asking what had happened. Did he honest to God not remember? Only she couldn’t. The humiliation would be too much. Not knowing and wondering were better than finding out she was little more than someone he pitied...or worse, regretted.
They sat down at the table. Sophie got into her bed, but kept her gaze firmly on them, as if vowing to take care of anything that dropped.
“How are you doing with your temporary pet?” Carol asked as Mathias slid ribs onto her plate.
“We’re working it out as we go.” He glanced at the beagle curled up in one of her many beds. “Don’t tell my mom, but she’s growing on me. She’s sweet natured and wouldn’t hurt a fly, but she has a knack for trouble. Yesterday I couldn’t find her anywhere. I was convinced she’d gotten out again, although all the doors were closed and the gate was locked.”
“Where was she?”
“In the dishwasher. Somehow she’d gotten it open and had crawled into the bottom shelf.”
“The giraffes. He and your uncle had just started working on the best routes to get Millie’s herd here. He said you’d stopped by earlier. The barn construction starts Monday. Did he mention we’ve settled on three giraffes, not counting Millie?”
“No, he didn’t.” She set her purse on the kitchen counter, then watched as he poured her a glass of white wine. He opened a beer for himself and led the way into the family room.
“Based on the cost of the giraffes, their care and feeding and transportation expenses, three makes the most sense. Plus any more would mean too much work for you.”
She’d seen her father yesterday. When had all this happened?
She settled on the sofa because there was no way she could sit in one of the chairs. Especially not the chair, where they’d done it. Or rather he’d done it to her and she’d had the best orgasm of her life. Nope, no chair for her.
Sophie jumped up next to her and snuggled close. Carol began to pat her as Mathias took the non-sex chair and rested his forearms on his knees as he leaned toward her.
“My brothers and I can be real competitive, so we’re each taking a giraffe,” he said. “For the trip. We’re mapping out a route from where they are now to here. The first one who gets a giraffe to Happily Inc wins.” He grinned. “It’s really complicated. There are permits required and we’re crossing state lines. No bridges, no overpasses, which means a lot of back roads.”
“How on earth do you do that? Don’t tell me there’s a Google app for giraffe transportation.”
“Not yet, but there’s a lot of information. Plus you can call people. I had to ask about a bridge in this one town in Texas and the guy at the gas station went out and measured for me. He was really interested in what we’re doing.”
He sipped his beer. “So I was thinking, you should get in touch with some local media. They’d find the story appealing and it would help raise awareness for the foundation. You’re going to need ongoing donations for taking care of the giraffes, and the other cows.” The grin returned, then faded. “Plus the whole vet training.”
OMG! How much time had he spent with her father? “Is there anything you and Ed didn’t discuss?”
“I’m not sure. Probably not. My point is you can use this to your advantage. Fill the bank with lots of coin and save the world. Anyway, Nick and Ronan are in. They’re planning their routes. Once we have them done, we figured we’d hire some college students to drive them, just to confirm no one has to ask a giraffe to bend her head to fit under something.”
“I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I’ll admit, I find it confusing. Why are you doing this?”
His eyebrows drew together. “Why not?”
“You’re busy with your own life.”
He straightened and waved her comment away. “This is fun. I mean, come on. How often do you get to call total strangers and ask them to measure a bridge because of a giraffe?”
“Practically never.”
“See? It’s great. Maybe I’ll create a line of giraffe-inspired dishes. The pattern’s kind of dense, so maybe just for a border.” He pulled open a drawer in the end table and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. Seconds later, he was sketching away, as if they hadn’t been talking.
“You’re so weird,” she muttered and stood. Sophie got up and followed her, tail wagging.
“And you are the most cheerful dog,” Carol told her and opened the back door.
They went out together. Sophie made a beeline for the lawn where she sniffed and sniffed before settling on the right spot for a bathroom break. Carol looked over the vast expanse of the animal preserve and tried to imagine what it would look like when Millie had her herd.
It would take time for everyone to settle. Each of the giraffes would have to get used to new surroundings. She would keep them on their regular diet for a few months before slowly transitioning them to what she fed them here. Speaking of feeding them, she would have to talk to the supplier where she got her food now. Every day she hoisted tree branches to Millie height so the giraffe could eat away, as if she were in the wild. More giraffes meant more food to be ordered.
They didn’t just need a full-time vet, she realized. She would need an assistant, maybe two. The new giraffes would require monitoring, especially when they started meeting each other. She had the rest of her animals to care for, as well.
A quality problem, she told herself.
When Sophie had finished investigating the backyard, they went back inside. Mathias had moved to the kitchen table. He had several sheets of paper scattered around him. Each was a variation on a giraffe print, some with a border, some not. She wondered how often he was like this—losing himself in his work. She supposed it could get really annoying over time, but she was new enough to the process to find his intensity charming. Of course she found everything about him charming, so that was hardly news.
She went into the kitchen and read the instructions for heating the ribs, then started the oven. She set the dining room table and put the ribs on a cookie sheet, then waited for Mathias to surface.
But while she was willing to be patient, Sophie was not. The little dog walked up to him, put her paws on his thigh, shoved her head under his arm and barked. Mathias blinked.
“What?” He looked around at the papers on the table, Carol standing in his kitchen and the dog licking his arm. “Oh, sorry. I got involved in my work.”
“I could see.”
“What time is it? You could have told me to quit being an ass. It’s just dishes.”
“It’s not just dishes, it’s what you do. Has Sophie been fed?”
“Yes. Did she try to tell you otherwise?” He shook his head. “You always do that and I never fall for it.”
Sophie swiped his chin with her tongue, as if pointing out a dog had to try.
“Do you want to work more or are you ready for dinner?” Carol asked.
“I’m starving.”
She put the ribs in the oven and set the timer for twenty minutes. “It won’t be long now.”
They worked together to finish setting the table. Carol was still on her first glass of wine and noticed he hadn’t gotten a second beer. Apparently they were going to stay sober for their meal—a good thing considering what they’d done the last time they’d been together in his house.
For a second she thought about just asking what had happened. Did he honest to God not remember? Only she couldn’t. The humiliation would be too much. Not knowing and wondering were better than finding out she was little more than someone he pitied...or worse, regretted.
They sat down at the table. Sophie got into her bed, but kept her gaze firmly on them, as if vowing to take care of anything that dropped.
“How are you doing with your temporary pet?” Carol asked as Mathias slid ribs onto her plate.
“We’re working it out as we go.” He glanced at the beagle curled up in one of her many beds. “Don’t tell my mom, but she’s growing on me. She’s sweet natured and wouldn’t hurt a fly, but she has a knack for trouble. Yesterday I couldn’t find her anywhere. I was convinced she’d gotten out again, although all the doors were closed and the gate was locked.”
“Where was she?”
“In the dishwasher. Somehow she’d gotten it open and had crawled into the bottom shelf.”
