he studied her with those intense eyes that probed under her clothes and beyond. “I do,” he said. “I got a fish fillet. Eating Nemo instead of Elsie the Cow’s better, right?” He took a loud, obnoxious sip of soda. “Or do you have a problem with that, too?”
And she knew right then and there he was screwing with her.
He’d set her up for a fall. He thought her methods were stupid, and he wasn’t about to try any of them. This was war in all its bloody forms. He’d fight her for every inch, every class, and try to drive her insane.
Did she expect him to embrace her philosophy on the second day? No. But he was deliberately baiting her. He enjoyed pissing her off and making a mockery of everything she passionately believed in. He wasn’t even going to be polite about it.
The Arilyn she’d made herself into with all that work would’ve swallowed it. Bowed her head to his ignorance, prayed for his health, and moved on. She’d take his ribbing with a smile and a peaceful serenity because she was the better person.
Well, forget that.
No. She had one even better.
Fuck that.
He wanted her miserable for the remaining six weeks? Done.
But she’d spend her last waking moments making sure he felt the same.
He stepped back, cocked his head, and studied her as if he realized she’d come to an amazing lightbulb moment that would affect him. “You look funny. A little aggravated. Am I not able to eat what I want, or does this class limit my freedom of choice on that, too?”
She almost laughed. Almost. Instead, she pasted on her false, cheerful smile. Arilyn would die before he figured out he knew how to push all of her buttons. “You can eat anything you like, Officer. I can only offer you other options. I can only remind you that after forty, your statistics for heart attack, cancer, and diabetes rise, especially with a diet high in fat, salt, and sugar. I’m sure it doesn’t matter that soda can also be used to burn off corrosion in a car battery and is probably dooming you to ulcers and all sorts of interesting digestive problems.” She winked. “But that’s America for you. Land of the free, home of the brave, and all that. Enjoy the rest of your lunch, and I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
“Hey. I’m not forty yet.”
She widened her eyes in a total innocent expression. “Oh. Gee, sorry. My bad.”
The uneasy expression on his face brightened her mood. Take that, Officer. She made her way inside, greeted her other two students, and began setting up for the afternoon session. Her cell pinged and she quickly answered, noting she had two minutes before the official start.
“Hello?”
“Arilyn? It’s Anthony from Animals Alive shelter. How are you?”
She smiled. As the director of Animals Alive, Anthony Pearson was the driving force behind the not-for-profit shelter, which rescued animals, spayed, neutered, and did behavioral therapy for problem animals. They struggled every month to pay the bills, and fostering the animals helped tremendously, since the shelter was always overcrowded. Many people were afraid to foster in case they got too attached and couldn’t keep the animals, but Arilyn thought of the higher good and tried to take them in groups. The shelter volunteers were all friends and worked overtime to try to make up for the lack of funding.
“Hi, Anthony. Checking up on Lenny and Mike?”
He laughed. “All animals thrive with you, so I’m not worried. Still trying to place them in the right home. Do you mind keeping them a bit longer? I don’t want to break them up.”
Usually puppies were separated to be adopted, but Mike and Lenny were an extreme case. They were so attached to each other that when Anthony had tried to separate them, both had gone a bit batty. Finding a family to take two puppies was a task. “No problem, you know I love them. If I can teach them not to eat all my shoes.”
“I’ll buy you new ones. I have a quick favor if you have a minute.”
Arilyn glanced up and watched Stone walk in and take his usual seat. He gave a grudging nod to the other men. “Sure, I have two.”
“I got a call from a lady on Bluebird Avenue. Complaining about a dog being chained twenty-four/seven in the yard. She thinks he’s starving and may be abused.”