Page 117 of Save the Date
She turned on the tears again. “I can’t believe you’re being like this. I told you I was sorry.”
“Actually, you never once said you were sorry,” he pointed out. “Not that I care. Here’s the deal, Zoey. I’m leaving now.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a money clip, and peeled off five twenty-dollar bills. “This is my parting gift to you. Buy yourself some dinner, get a room somewhere, whatever. Just make sure you’re gone by the time I get back here tonight.”
Zoey looked at the bills with obvious disbelief. “A hundred lousy bucks? That’s it?”
“Yup.” He grabbed the leash from the hook by the front door and whistled. “Shaz! Come.”
The dog looked up at Zoey, and then at Jack.
“Shaz!”
She trotted over and Jack hooked the leash to her collar. “Let’s go girl.” He picked up his truck keys and headed for the back door.
“You can’t take my dog,” Zoey said, running after him. “I bought her. She’s mine. You didn’t even want a puppy.”
Jack kept walking. “She grew on me. Anyway, possession is nine-tenths of the law.”
“You can’t keep her,” Zoey called. “As soon as I get my check, I’m taking her with me.”
Jack stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. “That reminds me.” He held out his hand, palm side up.
“What?” she said sullenly.
“My house key. I’d like it back. You can just push the thumb lock when you leave.”
She stalked out of the room and returned a minute later. She flipped the key, and he caught it in midair.
He was almost out the back door when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a beer can go sailing past his head before banging against the wall. Beer dripped down the door casing. He needed to paint anyway.
“Asshole!” she screamed.
47
Cara stepped out the front door just as Jack was pressing the doorbell.
“I brought Shaz. I thought she and Poppy could hang out together,” Jack said.
“Good idea.” They took Shaz outside, where Poppy seemed ecstatic at the prospect of company, and made sure both dogs had water and toys before heading back out to the street.
“You look nice,” Cara said, as Jack leaned in to kiss her. “And you smell nice too.”
“You clean up pretty good yourself,” he said, his lips lingering on hers. “And you smell way better than me.”
“Girls are supposed to smell better than boys,” she said, then gestured down at her own capris and sheer cotton flower-printed tunic. “Am I underdressed? Where are we going?”
“You’re not underdressed at all. I thought we’d go to Guale, over on Drayton Street. Does that sound all right?”
“I’ve seen Guale written up in magazines, but I’ve never been. Isn’t it pretty fancy?”
“Not really. The food’s great, but I’ve gone in there wearing jeans before, and nobody even looks twice. Parking’s a pain though. Is it too hot to walk over there?”
“Walking’s good.” She lifted her right foot to show off her Kelly-green sandals. “I’ve even got on flats.”
It was dusk now, and the streetlights had come on, and the faintest damp breeze ruffled the fronds of a palm tree on the corner. As they were crossing Whitaker Street, Jack casually reached over and clasped Cara’s hand. And he didn’t let go when they’d reached the other side. She flashed him a smile and kept walking.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
