The man stood straight and I might have seen his six-pack through his wet tee shirt. Hubba, hubba.
"She doesn't usually come up to strangers," said the man. "In fact, I'm fairly certain she's terrified of her own shadow. Of course, it's a pretty fat shadow. Scares me a little, too."
Kingsley slipped off the wooden platform, landing softly in the sand, too softly for a man his size. Ginger didn't move, although her tail might have started wagging at close to the speed of light. The attorney reached down and scratched the little dog between turgid ears. Ginger, if anything, looked like a star-crossed teenager at a rock concert. Or me at a Stones concert.
"Okay, that's a first," said the man, looking genuinely surprised. "Took me three months before I was anywhere near those ears."
Kingsley, still petting the dog, said, "She probably had a bad experience when she was a pup. If I had to guess, I would say she was beaten and abused before she found her new home. Probably by a man about your size, and so she doesn't like men, but she does like you, even though you run too fast for her little legs, and you don't give her near enough treats." Kingsley gave Ginger a final pat and stood. "Like I said, it's just a guess."
"Good guess. And spot on. She had been abused before my girlfriend rescued her. Of course, there was no rescuing the man who abused her. Let's just say when I was done with him, he had a newfound respect for every living creature."
Kingsley and I grinned. I had no doubt that the man in front of us could have inflicted some serious damage on someone.
He went on, "And if I gave Ginger any more treats I would have to roll her on my runs."
I snickered and Kingsley laughed heartily. He reached out a hand. "I know you from somewhere."
"Not the first time I've heard that," said the man as he scooped up the little dog, who promptly disappeared behind a bulging bicep muscle that had my own eyes bulging.
Kingsley's eyes narrowed. His thinking face. "You used to play football for UCLA."
"Is there any other school?"
The attorney snapped his fingers. "You were on your way to the pros until your broke your leg."
"Don't you just hate when that happens?" said the man lightly. "And you are, of course, Kingsley Fulcrum, famed defense attorney and internet sensation."
Kingsley laughed; so did I. Indeed, a few months ago, someone had tried to kill the attorney outside of a local courthouse. It was a bizarre and humorous incident that had been captured on film and seen around the country, if not the world. Kingsley, the man who couldn't die. The world watched as his assailant shot him point-blank five times in the head and neck.