said nasty things about non-vegans in my early twenties I wish I could take back.”
Beck’s brow furrowed, but he stayed quiet.
“I guess I’ve learned that the world is a more complicated place than vegan versus non-vegan. I even used to call out medical research labs for testing on animals.”
He looked disappointed. I held my palms out. “I’ve changed my opinion on that issue, believe me. I would never begrudge medical miracles for humans, even though that means I don’t fit the stereotype. But I’d hope we could all agree that shampoo and conditioner aren’t life-saving, right?”
“Yes. We can,” Beck said.
And maybe this was all part of it. I was uncertain on how to navigate the world when all of my mistakes and shortcomings were now reflected back on me.
“What are you doing here anyway?” I asked.
“I thought Penelope might have had puppies. I wanted to make sure she didn’t have a den around here.”
“Puppies?” I asked. I bit my lip. “I don’t think so. I’ve been with her for the past six months and she’s never looked pregnant.”
“Good,” he said. “Takes care of that. I’ll see you around, I guess?”
“On Tuesday,” I said, giving him a movie-worthy wink. “I’m your new employee, remember?”
“Right.” He was looking behind me, glowering. I turned—three bikers with vests that had screaming devils stitched into the front were casting a curious gaze our way. Beck’s jaw was tight, nostrils flaring.
“You know those guys?” I asked.
“Not anymore,” he said. One of the guys—massive, tough-looking—gave Beck a sardonic little wave. Every part of Beck’s body tightened.
“Devils, right?” I asked.
He shook his head but didn’t respond. An unspoken communication was happening between the mountain man next to me and the trio of bikers behind me. I couldn’t even begin to parse it.
“It’s been twenty years, but some people are still angry about my choice,” Beck finally said, clearing his throat. His stubbornness yesterday was making more sense—those walls, that lack of trust. I didn’t feel unsafe with the bikers behind me, but the edgy energy in the air was certainly distressing. I couldn’t imagine growing up with this kind of hidden violence.
“People in Miami don’t think nice things about me,” he continued, drawing me back to the conversation. Believe me, I know, I almost said. Jasmine had left a few articles for me on my desk about the Miami Devils. Even recently, they’d had plenty of bad press.
I dug into my purse, scooped out a handful of Sour Patch Kids.
“Well, people in Miami think I’m a hypocritical fake so you’re in the right company,” I said brightly, feeling a strange urge to comfort this man. “One troll on Instagram called me a sheep fucker.”
Beck looked furious before he caught my light expression. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “What does fucking sheep have to do with anything?”
“Who knows?” I laughed. Touched his shoulder again. “Want one of these?”
His brow wrinkled. “What is this?”
“Sour candy.” I popped one between my teeth, tilted my head. “Go on. Take it.”
“Thank you,” he finally said, taking an orange one.
I let out a sigh. “I have to go to my board meeting unfortunately. I’ll see you on Tuesday?”
“Okay,” he said.
“Thanks for coming back to say hi,” I said. “I needed a friendly face.”
“Most people don’t consider this face friendly,” he said. “Usually strikes fear in the hearts of children and the elderly.”
“Ah,” I said with a grin, “good thing I’m not children or the elderly, Mr. Mason.”
13
Beck
“Happy one-year anniversary of getting out,” I said to Wes, clapping him on the shoulder. He was sitting at the computer, sorting what little mail we received. His fingers tapped along to a Black Flag song he was playing from his phone.
“Aw, thanks, boss,” he said. “I thought I wouldn’t really remember the date. But I did.”
“It’s hard to forget,” I said. “I still remember mine.”
Wes eyed Jem, who was marching towards us with a plate in her hands.
“How do you feel?” I asked. It’d been only ten months since he’d started working here. I’d seen a startling change in him.
“Happy,” he said, bashful. “I love the dogs. I love my job. I need to stay busy, Beck.”
He gave me an honest look.
“I get it,” I said. “I’ll keep you busy.”
“Thank you.” He rapped his knuckles again. “Am I doing okay here?”
“You’re doing great. Everyone loves you.”
“Yeah?” Wes asked. “I like having, you know… a family.”
Jem burst through the door and Wes’s entire attention landed on her. I hid a smile, glad to see