Page 3 of The Gift of the Maltipoo
“This is Daisy,” Tyler said. “I got her today at a dog rescue. I thought she could keep Mom company sometimes. She’s really sweet.” Tyler watched as Anthony gave Daisy some attention. Part of him was a little jealous because he had been trying to get Anthony to notice him for a few months now. Anthony had dark hair and eyes, and Tyler wished he could say something to him, maybe ask him out or something, but he never got up the courage.
“She’s a real sweetheart,” Anthony said. “But it looks like she has a hurt leg.” He kept stroking her, and Daisy soaked it up.
“Yeah. She was in an accident. The vet said to make sure she takes it easy and not to let her jump up and down from the furniture by herself. He said she should get better but that she might always have a slight limp.”
Anthony stood back up, and Daisy came over to Tyler, looking up expectantly. He lifted her into his arms. “Would you like a beer or something?” He wasn’t sure what had broughtAnthony over, but he hoped he would stay awhile. During the summer, Tyler had noticed on more than one occasion that Anthony tended to mow his lawn shirtless, and that was quite a sight.
“Sure.”
Tyler went to get two beers and handed one to Anthony before taking a seat. He placed Daisy on the sofa, and she settled right next to him. “Is there something you need?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Anthony said. “Ummm… I’m not sure how to ask, but I was hoping… see, I have a work thing, and my boss is being a real dick about it. He’s made a big deal about everyone bringing someone to the office party. My law firm isn’t that big, and I’m hoping to make partner in the next few years.” He took a big swig from the beer. “Anyway, I don’t have anyone to go with, and I was hoping you might want to go with me.”
Tyler was shocked. He and Anthony had waved and said hello through the summer and fall, but they hadn’t talked much. Maybe that was because Anthony was just really busy. “When is the party?”
“On the eighteenth, and I’d understand if you’d rather not go with me. I mean, we say hello and stuff, but I’ve been so busy that we never really get a chance to talk. But you were always nice, and you helped me out when that tree fell across my driveway and I needed to get to work.” Anthony seemed a little tightly wound.
“Sure. I’d like to go.” He had forgotten all about the tree incident. “I’m free that day. What sort of dress is it?”
Anthony sighed. “Black tie. I should have said that earlier. I can pay for a rental for you if—”
“I have a tux. A few years ago I had three cousins get married in the same year, so I bought a tux and wore it to all the weddings rather than renting one. It also saved me from havingto rent one of those godawful gray things with a purple shirt. So yeah, I’d like to go. Do you want to pick me up?”
“Yeah. That would be great.” Anthony leaned back in the chair, more relaxed. Daisy snuggled closer, and Tyler gently stroked down her back, wondering how he’d gotten a dog and a date on the same day. Though this was probably just him helping a neighbor with a work thing. Tyler needed to remind himself not to get too ahead of things. He was going with Anthony to a work event. It wasn’t like he had been invited to a romantic evening at a fancy restaurant or anything. It was just dinner. And yet, every time he looked at Anthony, he couldn’t help but hope that it meant just a little more.
Chapter 2
ANTHONY CARTERfussed with his damned tie. He wore one every day, but this morning he couldn’t seem to get the front longer than the tail, and it was driving him crazy. He undid it and started again, finally getting it so the damned thing looked right. Some mornings it didn’t pay to get out of bed. He adjusted his collar before heading to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Then he pulled on his overcoat and went to his car to head into the office.
It was still dark when Anthony arrived, and he turned on a few lights as he went. He entered his office and left the door open before sitting down at his desk. He started by answering his email and forwarded others to his paralegal for him to handle. Then he reviewed the brief he’d finished after having a beer with Tyler. He’d probably stayed too late at his house, but Tyler was nice, and it wasn’t like Anthony had much time to socialize or that he was generally very good at it.
“Morning,” someone said from outside the door, and he responded automatically, barely looking up from his computer. He had a lot to do, and this appeal brief needed to be right. His client had been convicted of robbery and assault during a liquor store holdup, except that the court-appointed attorney had made so many errors during the trial that it was hard to keep track of them. The client’s sister had hired Anthony to do the appeal. He checked his notes, reviewing all his points and making sure they were in the brief, including the suppression of evidence that his client was actually somewhere else at the time of the robbery. In his opinion, Judge Marshall had been sloppy,but he couldn’t say that in the brief. Happy with his work, he saved the file and sent a note to Jasper to see him.
“Tony,” a gruff voice said from the doorway.
Anthony took a deep breath and held it. He hated being called Tony. He was not a Tony and he never would be. But the senior partner, Richard Langley, insisted on using that nickname, and he needed to keep the old jackass happy.
“Morning,” he said.
“Is the Johnson brief done?” he asked.
“Yes. Ready to be filed this morning,” he answered. Richard always treated him like he was a fool and like he was going to be late for everything. The brief was complete and ready to be electronically filed today. He had also drafted the brief for the Phillips case, but that would need another day or two.
His phone rang. “Is there something you needed? This is a client I’ve been talking to.” He waited for Richard, who seemed to be debating.
“Take the call and then come to my office.” He turned away, and Anthony answered the call just before his voicemail kicked in.
“Anthony Carter, good morning,” he said, and what he got was silence.
“I wish it was. The police charged Hansen this morning, and I’ve decided to engage you for his defense.” Connor Jacobs was the patriarch of one of the oldest families in Carlisle. “How soon can you meet with us so we can review everything?”
Anthony checked his calendar. “Is he out on bail? Do you need me to help arrange it?”
Connor cleared his throat. “His previous attorney, who I just fired, didn’t botch that, at least. So yes, he has bail.”
Anthony pulled up his calendar. “Then can you all come in on Thursday at one?” He was already reserving a secure conference room.
“Yes. That will be fine,” Connor said firmly, but his voice broke suddenly, and that told Anthony a lot. This might be a high-powered parent, but he loved his son a great deal.
