Page 27 of The Broken Heart Playlist
I’m not entirely certain, but I straighten and manage a nod, because he sounds worried.
“Your clothes.” He stares in dismay at my blood-spattered outfit. “I’ll pay for them to be dry cleaned. Please. It’s the least I can do.”
Still laughing, I shake my head. “Don’t worry, it’s fine.”
When I get home, my clothes are going straight in the trash. There’s no way I’m keeping them. First, though, I’m taking a selfie and sending the photo to Tess. With no accompanying explanation. Payback for the upcoming dinner with Gideon she strong-armed me into.
“Is your dog okay?” The words emerge from my mouth before they’re even a coherent thought in my head.
Gideon looks surprised I asked. I’m surprised too.
“There’s just so much blood,” I add, staring at Uno, who is still gazing up at me in adoration, oblivious of the carnage he’s caused.
“This injury—they call it Happy Tail—is common among greyhounds, although it’s never happened to Uno before,” Gideon says, one arm around the dog to contain him while he strokes his stomach, which seems to have a settling effect on the animal. “Greyhounds have thin skin and not much hair to pad their tails, so they’re more prone to injuries.” He inspects Uno’s tail. “It’s a small tear, but tail injuries bleed a lot. I’ll bandage it up and take him to the vet tomorrow, so they can check him out.”
My laughter fades. I’m a little embarrassed letting go like that. The last time I laughed so hard was a year ago, when Tess almost swallowed a fly. I forgot how good it feels. I feel like a different person when I’m laughing, like the Old Kate has snuck out of her coffin to soak up the sun for a few moments before slinking back inside.
Quietly, I ask, “What if this happens at the school?”
Gideon looks at me straight on. “When Uno’s in work mode, he has a completely different temperament. He’s also not normally this excitable.”
I nod. Oddly enough, I believe him.
“Well, I better head back to Lisset.” And take the longest, hottest shower of my life.
Gideon offers me a rueful smile. “I apologize again, but I feel I owe you more than just an apology.”
I wave my hand in the air. “Don’t worry about it.”
He winces. “Seriously, I’m in your debt. Anything you need help with, just yell.”
My interest stirs. I do secretly like the idea of him being in my debt. “Anything?”
“Anything,” he confirms, before adding, “So long as I’m not breaking the law.”
“Shucks, so assassin for hire is off the list.”
“Now I’m starting to worry.”
I offer him a mysterious smile that has him instantly frowning. I know exactly how he can repay me and he’s not going to like it. I say goodbye and make my way across the street, feeling his eyes on me the whole time.
What a long, strange day. And yet, in the end, it was also one of my better days.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Thursday morning, Lisset and I pop into Beth’s Bakery, our favorite coffee shop on Main Street. I’m in the mood to treat myself to a coffee and almond croissant. Lisset lingers in front of the glass display case, agonizing over which pastry to select. Eventually, she settles on a chocolate chip cannoli.
I’m at the till paying when Lisset says excitedly, “Mom, there’s Gideon and Uno!”
Heart sinking, I turn and spot my neighbor tucked away at a table in the corner of the café, the greyhound lying on a blanket at his feet.
Lisset’s already made her way over to them. I follow more slowly. In the café’s overheated air, Gideon has taken off his jacket and his arms strain the sleeves of his white T-shirt. The sight of his ruggedly handsome face smiling at Lisset stalls the breath in my lungs.
The first time I saw Oliver he took my breath away, and I never quite got it back all through our whirlwind dating, courtship, and marriage eight months later. Our love was intense and intoxicating. In the end, though, the only intoxicating thing about it was the toxic part.
At Lisset’s approach, Uno lifts his head from where it was resting on his paws, but he doesn’t get up.Nowhe decides to be well-behaved.
Gideon closes the book he was reading and places it face down on the table. “Hi, Kate.”
