Kiss Me in the Summer - Barbara Dunlop Page 0,19
your profession, and dog lovers everywhere, and you should be fired.” He paused. “You know, on behalf of dog lovers.”
I went back to browsing, deciding I didn’t like the look of the jeans in the current pile. Too boxy. “What do you think?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think.”
“I’m curious.”
“Like I said before, I think stuff goes wrong. If you’re a good lawyer, you’re a good lawyer.”
“What about the reputation thing?” That was my biggest fear, that Laatz Wallingsford would decide I was a reputational liability and they were better off without me. As an associate, they could let me go for any reason at all. I didn’t have much recourse.
“What did your boss say?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Josh sounded unconvinced.
“I left on vacation before he could react.”
“How did you do that? Didn’t he react right away?”
“I got permission from one of the partners to take some vacation days.”
“But, the partner wasn’t your boss?”
“Not my direct supervisor, no. But Elizabeth was fully entitled to give me permission to leave.”
“I guess that’s one approach,” Josh said.
I looked over my shoulder at him. “Is that judgment in your tone?”
“It’s confusion.”
“It was my roommate’s idea.” I knew it sounded like I was blaming Cecily. I wasn’t. “It was a good idea. She works with me too, so she knew how our boss Luke was likely to react. This way, there’s at least a chance it’ll all cool down while I’m away.”
Josh looked unconvinced. It was a moment before he spoke. “Ostriches aren’t really hidden, you know, when they put their heads in the sand.”
“Very funny.”
“I’m just saying . . .”
“I know what you’re saying. But if the wolves can’t find the ostrich, it can’t get eaten.”
“I think you mean lions or maybe hyenas.” He paused to take in my expression of annoyance. “I’m a vet, remember?”
I picked up another pair of jeans, making three pairs in my arm load. “You think I should call Luke up and let him fire me?”
“I’d be happier knowing one way or the other.”
I might be happier that way too. I’d thought about turning my phone on, checking my messages. Maybe Luke would have calmed down by now. I pictured him calm. But then I pictured him angry. Maybe I’d wait until Monday.
“I’m in no rush,” I said to Josh.
His expression told me he thought I was wrong. “I guess you’ll know when the time is right.”
“Have we agreed to disagree?”
“I think we have.” He nodded to the jeans. “Ready to try those on?”
“I’m ready.”
“Fitting room is that way.” He pointed to a floral curtain hanging from a semi-circular runner and looped against a corner wall. Pulled shut, it would cut off a little corner of the clothing section.
“Well that’s compact,” I said, heading for the weird little fitting area.
Josh followed. “Every square inch counts in this building.”
I pulled the curtain shut. It didn’t give me much space to maneuver. But I managed to shimmy into the first pair of jeans.
“Are you going to let me see them?” Josh asked from outside.
“They’re cut way too low at the waist,” I said.
They were also loose in the butt. I couldn’t see myself bending and twisting in them.
“Heads-up,” Josh called.
I looked up. “Wha—”
Three T-shirts rained down on me.
“Hey!”
“You might as well show me the full effect,” he said.
I picked the shirts up from the carpeted floor. “These are all the same shirt.”
“Different colors,” he said.
“You couldn’t come up with different shirts?”
“T-shirts are T-shirts. I can bring you the one with the goat on the front.”
“Somebody made a goat shirt?” That did not sound attractive.
“Three goats. Or there’s one that says: ‘Gratitude is the Best Attitude’ in bright red letters.”
I hung my blazer on the single hook on the wall. “No affirmation banners, please.”
“I have to agree with you on that.”
“About time!” I called out, unable to resist. Then I wished I could see his face. I hoped he knew I was joking.
I took off my blouse and hung it with my blazer.
“And the goats?” he asked.
“Negative on the goats.”
“There’s a darling little Jersey cow.”
“No farmyard animals, please.”
“Are you going to show me how they look?”
It seemed silly to argue the point. “Sure. Why not?”
I pulled the lime-green T-shirt over my head and flipped my auburn hair free. The shirt mostly covered my stomach, but there was still a narrow strip of skin between the hem of the T-shirt and the waist of the jeans. That might be okay at a picnic, but not if I was going to be working. And the butt of