Forever Comes in Threes, page 2
“So nice to see you again,” Diane said as she settled in the chair Perry held out for her.
“Thank you. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again, too.” It was an overstatement, because Perry hated first dates. She’d had a lot of them, and very few second or third dates, in the past couple of years. “Did you have trouble finding a place to park?”
“No. And traffic was light for a Friday.”
“I see.” Perry hated people who were late for no real reason. They demonstrated a lack of consideration for the other person’s time.
“How’s your day been so far? Mine has been total crap, so I’m looking for tonight to make it better.” Elbow on the table, Diane propped her chin in her hand and gave Perry a once-over like she was on the menu. Hmm. Although she hadn’t scheduled time for sex after dinner—it was only their first date—schedules could always be revised. But dinner first.
“Let’s hope so. But we should order, then talk while the food is being prepared,” Perry said. That was a more efficient approach and could make up the six minutes of lost time.
“I haven’t eaten here before, but I love Greek food.”
“Excellent. Their service is very prompt.” She handed Diane a menu. “I can recommend several small plates.”
“I love gyros.”
Perry cringed when Diane mispronounced the word. “Yee-row,” she said, carefully rolling the r, before she could censure herself.
“What?”
“The g is silent. Greeks pronounce it yee-row.”
“Whatever.”
Okay. Perry wasn’t a social idiot. It was rude to correct her date, and she wouldn’t even blink at the lack of a rolled r, but she expected someone with Diane’s family money and assumed education to be more knowledgeable. And she cringed at Diane’s “whatever.” Maybe she’d overestimated her age, or possibly just her maturity. Still…that body, naked under Perry’s. She could make some allowances.
“No matter. We’re not in Greece, are we? A lot of Americans pronounce it that way.”
Diane waved off her pseudo-apology. “The caterer for the skybox buffet makes little mini ones that are about two or three bites. I think it’s the cucumber sauce I like so much. I forget what it’s called.”
“Tzatziki.”
“And that soft bread. So good.”
“They do have gyros, but I find so much more to try on the menu.” Hoping to impress, Perry had chosen this restaurant because of the extensive, authentic menu.
“I’ll stick with what I know. The chicken gyro sounds good.”
Perry nearly groaned. Not even the lamb. She could have taken this woman to a food-truck roundup instead. She ordered a grape-leaves appetizer, hoping to at least get Diane to try something else, and the Lebanese-fried-trout entrée.
As soon as the waiter brought their drinks and took their order, Diane launched into a recounting of her terrible day.
“Is it my fault that I’m so good I sold the sponsor spot on front of the guys’ jersey to two different companies? I told Daddy to put the one that bid the highest on the jerseys and give the other one the shoe contract. He said the lower bidder didn’t make soccer shoes. I said, well, there you go. It’s a perfect opportunity for them to expand.”
Diane’s story of her terrible day was growing past movie length to that of a ten-day miniseries. Luckily, Perry was practiced at multitasking and was making mental notes for her next podcast while Diane prattled on in the background.
“Daddy didn’t like that idea either, so I told him to break the contract with the lower bidder if they didn’t want their name on something else, like the warm-ups or equipment bags. His lawyers always write contracts so they can get out of them if they want.”
Perry tuned back in to Diane’s story at the mention of this disreputable business practice. “I’m not saying lawyers don’t routinely try to slip in termination clauses and other lawyers always try to catch them before they sign, but your father will damage his business reputation if he breaks contracts often.”
Diane gave her the same bored stare as when Perry had corrected her earlier. Time to get this date back on track. Diane had ignored the appetizer, and Perry had nearly finished her trout while Diane talked and didn’t eat her dinner. She didn’t want to think about how much time they’d wasted on Diane’s bad-day diatribe.
“How about we get to know each other better?”
Diane’s glare transformed to a near leer. “I’m all for that.”
“I’ll go first to give you a chance to eat. You know that my company is built on helping businesses be more efficient.”
Diane broke off a small piece of the gyro wrap and nodded as she slipped it into her mouth.
“Well, you can’t make a business more efficient without studying the humans involved—the owners who started the company, the employees, and the customers. So, I’ve read a lot of studies on human nature.”
Diane’s attention span appeared short because she had turned her attention to eviscerating the gyro so she could pick out pieces of tzatziki-covered chicken to eat. Perry preferred to think she was simply multitasking.
“Anyway, studies have shown that when people are on a first date, they want to know five basic things about the other person. Can you guess what they are?”
Diane looked up. “Five things?” Though she spoke while she was still chewing, she had the good manners to cover her mouth.
“Yes.” Maybe they could salvage this date.
“I know what I’d ask.” Diane swallowed her food and raised a finger as she cited each answer. “One. Do you live with your parents? Two. Do you currently have a job or some kind of steady income? I’m okay with trust-fund girls. Three. Which social media are you on? Four. Do you like to shop online or at the mall? Five. Have you ever been in prison? I don’t mean overnight for drunk driving, but sentenced and dressed in an orange jumpsuit. Daddy makes me ask that one.”
Perry sat back in her chair. Wow. She cleared her throat. “Uh, those weren’t exactly the questions noted in the studies.”
Diane tore off another small piece of gyro wrap. “Can you answer them for me?”
Perry held up her hand to mimic Diane. “I haven’t lived with my parents since I was seventeen and left for college. I’m the chief executive officer of my own company, among other things, and have a seven-figure annual income. I started and host a very successful twice-a-week podcast, but my marketing manager pretty much handles the rest of my company’s social media. I don’t have any personal social-media accounts. I shop almost exclusively online and hate going to the mall, even though I can be lured into almost any sporting-goods store. And I’ve never even had a traffic ticket, much less spent time in prison.”
Diane shoved her plate and mostly uneaten food aside. “Wow. What do you do when you’re not working?”
“I enjoy my work and spend a lot of time researching the things I need to keep it relevant and successful.”
“No. I mean, what do you do for fun? Please don’t say you organize your closet.”
“I go out with friends. You and I met at a soccer game.”
“Don’t forget that I work in business, too. Those weren’t friends. You were schmoozing business contacts.”
Fun? She had fun. “I run most Saturdays with a friend and go to dinners and parties at friends’ houses. I follow professional women’s soccer, the WNBA, and several NCAA sports.”
“Do you hit the clubs much—dancing and stuff?”
“The nightclub scene became too boring and juvenile by the time I hit my mid-twenties.” Perry discreetly checked her watch.
Diane gave her a long look, then folded her napkin to place it on her plate to signify she was done with the meal and shouldered her purse.
“Wait. You’re leaving? I haven’t asked my questions.”
Diane’s smile was a mixture of disappointment and condescension. “No need. The lesbian world is pretty small. I called around and checked you out before tonight because I couldn’t believe someone so attractive was actually available. What I learned turns out to be true.”
Perry stiffened. People discussed her? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You were nearly red in the face when I was deliberately six minutes late without offering an explanation. You’ve checked your watch at least five times during our meal because I wrecked your schedule of order, eat, answer your scripted questions, then plan a second date that is scheduled to allow for possible sex afterward. You’re too gallant to schedule sex for the first one.”
Was she so predictable the entire Fresno lesbian community joked about her routine? No. She wasn’t.
“That’s not true. I had already considered changing my plans for later tonight in the hope that you wanted to follow through with the seductive looks you’ve been giving me all night.”
Diane laughed. “I’m flattered. And I am tempted. But I know I’ll take offense if I want a second orgasm only to have you announce time is up and show me the door.” She stood, then stepped forward and took Perry in a sizzling kiss.
Stepping back, Diane touched her fingers to her lips as if to hold the kiss there. “I might regret this, but the reality is, even though I work for Daddy’s organization, I hate sports, love shopping at the mall, live on social media, and enjoy club-hopping. We’d never be compatible.”
Hot body or not, Perry had to agree. Scratch off another first, and only first, date.
Chapter Two
“Just find them a good home, Perry,” Janice Chandler said. “Together if at all possible.”
“Mother, no. What am I supposed to do with three dogs? I don’t know anything about dogs.”
They’d never had a pet when she was growing up because Perry Chandler’s parents didn’t have time for their only child, much less the responsibility of a pet. Not to mention that their research work often landed them in other countries, sometimes for a few months or, occasionally, for several years.
So, she was now shocked speechless when her mother showed up on her doorstep and handed her the leashes of three mutts, whose fate had fallen to Janice when a colleague died suddenly of some jungle disease while researching native medicine among Amazon indigenous tribes. Now, Janice, with whom Perry’s only contact in the past year had been a one-night visit initiated by Perry at Christmas, was headed out to replace her associate on that same research team and dumping the dogs on Perry.
Perry tried a different angle. “I don’t even know if my homeowners’ association allows three pets in a townhouse.”
“Hopefully, you won’t have them long enough for your HOA to know they’re here.”
“No, Mother. No.”
But Janice wasn’t listening as she walked back to the Uber ride that waited in the driveway.
Perry looked down at the three canines at her feet. All appeared freshly bathed and groomed. The bluish haze of cataracts was a clue to the advanced age of the plump white-and-black lap-dog mix but didn’t detract from the calculating gaze that met hers. The haircut of the slim, white-and-brown dog indicated schnauzer genes, his unusual golden eyes seeming to plead as he sat hip to hip with his chubby companion. Was he clinging to or protecting his elderly friend? The third dog—a male tricolored, wire-haired terrier—paced in a tight circle behind the other two. His dark eyes darted between Janice, Perry, the Uber, and the new neighborhood, while he made small, nervous noises deep in his throat. He paused at intervals to prod the other dogs with his nose, as if imploring them to make a run for it. Perry mentally shook herself. They were just dogs, not abandoned children.
Janice returned from the waiting vehicle with two overfilled cloth totes. The Uber driver followed with two large bags of dog food.
“All the instructions are in the bags, along with food, toys, and various other things. You have two doctorate degrees, Perry. I’m sure you can figure it out.”
“Mother, no.”
The Uber driver returned from the car a second time and deposited two wire contraptions next to the dog food, then piled three fluffy pet beds on top.
Perry stared at the wire panels. “What’s that?”
“Those wire things unfold into cages. The beds go inside them, I would think.”
“Mother, no.”
She held out the leashes for her mother to take the dogs back from her, startled when her mother stepped forward to place an awkward kiss on her cheek and squeeze her shoulder. It wasn’t exactly a hug but as close to one as they got in her family.
“It was Amanda’s dying wish that I make sure they don’t end up in a pound where they kill them if they aren’t adopted in ten days. I owe her that after all the papers we co-authored. Sorry to blindside you like this, but I didn’t have anyone else to turn to.”
“Did you check with Dad to see if he would take them?”
“Last I heard, your father was in England.”
Well, that was more than Perry knew. After her parents had divorced while she was in college, her father popped in on her only every few years, usually unannounced.
Janice handed over a folded note. “Amanda left this local contact for assistance if you need it.”
“Mother…”
“Got to run or I’ll miss my plane,” Janice said, waving as she got into the back seat of the Uber. “I’ll email from the Amazon.”
* * *
Perry walked her three charges directly through the townhouse and out into the miniscule twenty-by-forty-feet backyard. Enclosed by a six-foot privacy fence, they’d be safe here while she called this phone number her mother had left to get those people to take them off her hands.
She grimaced when the schnauzer mix immediately lifted his hind leg and urinated on the base of her birdbath. She doubted he could harm the concrete, but the expensive never-needs-mowing synthetic turf she’d installed would probably start to smell like a men’s urinal if the dogs were here very long. The terrier followed his pal, lifting his leg to pee everywhere the first dog did. When the older female dog squatted to relieve herself, she made a show afterward of scratching the ground next to it like a bear claws a tree to leave his mark. Both boy dogs dutifully hiked their legs to add their contribution to her chosen toilet spot, and Perry began calculating the cost of replacing the turf as she dialed the phone number her mother had left.
A rich, melodic voice answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Hi. It seems I’ve gotten stuck with three homeless dogs because their owner died, and I have no idea what to do with them. I was given this number to call for someone to take them.”
“Where are you located?”
“The Fresno area.” Perry rattled off the address. “When do you think someone can come get them?”
“As it happens, I’m at the dog park a few blocks from your address, helping with a puppy obedience class. It will be a little bit, but I can swing by when I leave here.”
“Wonderful.” Perry breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll see you then.”
Ten minutes later, SHA announced, “You have a visitor at your door,” and the dogs whirled toward it when the chime sounded.
“Awesome. Your ride is here,” Perry told the dogs. She quickly slipped inside and slid the glass patio door closed as they charged, barking like a pack of wolves.
“You stay put,” Perry said, pointing her finger at them. “And be quiet.”
To her surprise, they stopped barking. She paused to look back before answering the front door. The townhouse’s open concept allowed a clear line of sight from the patio door to the front entry, and they sat in a row, watching her intently.
Perry shook her head and said a quick prayer to the universe that her mother had had second thoughts and was returning to retrieve the dogs. She swung the door open, and karma bared its teeth.
“So, you’re not dead or in the hospital or in jail.” Julie, Perry’s longtime friend as well as right hand at work, stood among the dog paraphernalia still strewn about on her steps. “After the time-management lecture I got last week for being five minutes late, I was sure you must be incapacitated or imprisoned when you were a no-show ten minutes past our meet-up time. But you don’t appear incapacitated, and you certainly aren’t in jail, since you answered the door so fast one would think you were expecting a hot blonde on your doorstep.”
Perry hung her head. “I was hoping it was my mother.”
“Oh my God. You are sick.” Julie frowned and lifted Perry’s chin with her hand to look into her eyes. “You’re not just sick. You’re delirious. When did you begin feeling ill? I thought you were vaccinated.” She laid her other hand on Perry’s forehead. “Crap. Now I’m contaminated.” She swept her hand out to indicate the pile of supplies left by Janice. “Is that what all this stuff is? You’ve been having everything delivered rather than going out to shop. Oh, hon. You should have told me. I would have packed a bag and come to quarantine with you. Now I’m stuck here without my essentials.”
“No. Wait, wait.” Perry clamped her hand over Julie’s mouth to stop the verbal onslaught. “I’m not sick.”
Julie eyed the pile of items after Perry released her. “Is Chandler INC collecting donations for a local animal shelter? You should have let your marketing-slash-public relations manager,” Julie pointed to herself, “know so I could post it on our social-media accounts earlier.”
“That’s not exactly the situation.”
“The company gets a lot of points for that kind of stuff, you know.” Julie continued as if she hadn’t heard Perry’s weak clarification. “Especially after a year of pandemic lockdown when everyone sat home watching feel-good videos about rescued dogs being nursed back to health and finding their forever homes.”
