Page 14 of How to Trust a Hellhound (Hellhounds of Paradise Falls #4)

Josh

B arb was glad to have me in the office, and she was thrilled when I told her I’d broken up with Rick. No one had really liked him, and that should have been another sign. Of course, Rick didn’t like any of my friends, either. It was always more important to him to hang out with his friends.

After that, I tried to put Rick out of my mind.

The morning flew by catching up with work and discussing any new accounts and what needed to be done for the upcoming month.

Our office wasn’t huge, but I wasn’t the only financial advisor, and Barb had an estate planner, a lawyer, a couple brokers, a CPA, and some personal assistants on payroll.

I was the most senior financial advisor, though, and Barb depended on me for a lot of the accounts.

In some ways she made me feel like a partner as opposed to just someone who worked for her.

It felt good to be back in work mode and focused on the numbers, making a to-do list of what needed to happen and who needed attention. Before I knew it, it was afternoon. I checked with everyone else to see if they wanted some lunch before I headed out to grab something.

“We have a new client calling to talk to you sometime this afternoon,” Barb informed me. “They didn’t give a definite time, since their shop is busy in the afternoons, and I told them that was fine.”

“Yeah, that’s okay. I’ll be on the lookout for the call. Anything else before I head to lunch? You want anything?” I asked her.

“No, I brought a sandwich.” Barb made a face at that, and I laughed. She preferred to bring leftovers when her wife cooked. I didn’t blame her—Sally was a damn good cook.

I headed out, thinking about Barb and Sally. Sally always packed Barb something for lunch, even if there weren’t leftovers. Relationship goals, I thought. Rick had never made me lunch. It wouldn’t have occurred to him.

I was going to do better for myself next time.

I knew it was soon to be thinking about next time, and I probably needed to take some time to myself. At the same time, though, I felt a bit like I’d been alone for the past six months. Rick and I had grown more and more distant; we’d been more like roommates than partners.

I had distanced myself from my friends, too.

Part of it had been because Rick didn’t like them and I didn’t want to fight, and part of it had been because I didn’t want to admit what was happening in my relationship.

I hadn’t wanted to look too closely at my life.

It was easier to just carry on, even if I was miserable.

As I walked the sidewalks of the downtown area, I decided to head to Cass’s shop. I did have friends, and I was done isolating myself. Yes, some of them were nosy and exuberant and could be overwhelming, but they also loved me just as I was, and I loved them.

The little bell chimed above the door as I walked in, and I saw Q behind the counter scowling at a customer. I almost laughed out loud. Some things never changed, and I was glad of it.

“Are you sure you want pumpkin spice? It isn’t even fall, for fuck’s sake,” Q was asking the woman.

She was smiling at him, and I thought I recognized her as a regular. “Yup. I just love pumpkin spice. It’s so delicious. ”

I thought everyone in the shop was staring at Q and the woman, and half the shop was smiling. I wondered if Q realized that the woman was baiting him.

“No, pumpkin spice is not delicious. It’s a fucking abomination.

Okay, fine, I’ll give you that some pumpkin spice isn’t bad, but that’s because most ‘pumpkin spice’ doesn’t even have fucking pumpkin in it.

” Q was ranting now and even using air quotes, and everyone in the shop was staring at him with amusement.

“You want a coffee with cinnamon and cloves and nutmeg and allspice, then go for it. That’s a good fall blend, even though it isn’t fucking fall .

But Cass doesn’t do shit half-assed here, so our pumpkin spice actually has fucking pumpkin in it.

And who wants pumpkin in their coffee? Pumpkin tastes like old socks and regret,” Q ranted.

“Regret?” the woman asked, trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, like the morning after Halloween when a bunch of kids smashed your beautifully carved pumpkin because they’re fucking assholes, and there’s stinky orange pumpkin guts just scattered everywhere like a slaughterhouse.

Who puts pumpkin in coffee, anyway? Why not have squash coffee?

Or sweet potato coffee? It’s fucking absurd.

Get a nice spring flavor. We’ve got coconut and mixed berries.

We even have fucking lavendar, although why anyone would want that in coffee, I have no fucking idea. It smells like grandmothers.”

“There’s nothing wrong with grandmothers!” an elderly woman called out from one of the nearby tables.

At that moment Cass came out of the kitchen, glared at Q, and pushed him out of the way, smiling at the customer. Q just kept grumbling as he walked into the kitchen. Cass took the orders and another barista made coffees, moving the line along.

When I got up to Cass, I was smiling. “You know your customers were baiting Q, right?”

He glared over my shoulder at the woman who was sitting at a table. “Oh, I know. They seem to find his grumpy-as-hell attitude endearing. Which is fine until he insults someone who isn’t a regular.”

“I can’t imagine someone getting bent out of shape over his opinions about coffee flavors,” I said.

Cass rolled his eyes. “You have no idea.”

I laughed at that, and Cass looked more closely at me.

“You look good, Josh. I’m glad,” he said.

I figured one of the guys probably told him about Rick, or at least about the break up. Rick and I had come in before, and he had kind of been a dick when we ordered. I hadn’t brought him here again.

I ordered a coffee and some lunch, thinking about just how much Rick had made my life miserable.

I hadn’t even realized all the things I’d stopped doing because he didn’t like them, or all the places I didn’t want to take him.

Looking back, it was almost like I was waking up from a dream. Or maybe a nightmare.

I took my coffee and lunch over to a table by the window and ate, alternating between looking at emails on my phone and people watching out the window. I heard a chair scrape and looked up to see Aiden sitting down.

“Hey! The ham and cheese croissant is amazing, and you totally outdid yourself with the cranberry brie bites. I haven’t tried the lavender cupcake yet, but after Q’s rant, I couldn’t help buying one,” I laughed.

“Yeah, I heard him from the kitchen,” Aiden admitted. “Cass was out back taking a delivery, or he would have intervened sooner. The cupcake has a very light lavender flavor, and it’s mixed with vanilla and has a cream cheese frosting, so it’s really subtle.”

“I’m sure it’s delicious. You made it, and I don’t think I’ve had anything I didn’t like that you made,” I reassured him.

Aiden beamed at me, and then he got a serious look on his face. “How are you?” he asked .

I knew he was asking about everything that happened, but he was also giving me an out to not talk about it. Aiden was good like that.

“I’m okay, I guess. Still processing, I think. Really glad it’s over, and really unsure why I stayed so long,” I admitted.

Aiden nodded his head. “Sometimes it’s easier not to make a change, even if you’re in a really bad situation. Change is scary, and sometimes what you know seems safer, even if it totally isn’t.”

“Yeah, our brains are funny like that, huh?” I asked. “I keep looking back and kind of wondering what was wrong with me.”

Aiden reached out and patted my hand. It surprised me, but it was nice at the same time. Other than Wilder holding me while I cried, I really hadn’t had much physical contact lately. Another thing that had been wrong in my life that I just hadn’t seen.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Josh. Hindsight lets you see a lot of things, but when you’re in something, you can’t see the whole picture. Give yourself grace.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” I admitted. “I still feel kind of… I don’t know… stupid or something.”

“Don’t. No negative self-talk. Helene would tell you that if you wouldn’t say it to your friends, then you shouldn’t say it to yourself. I’m not sure that advice would work on Q, but you’re really nice to your friends,” Aiden added.

I laughed, just like he meant for me to. He was also right, though. “Helene? She’s your therapist, right?” I asked, voice low.

Aiden smiled at my lowered voice. “It’s okay. I don’t mind everyone knowing about therapy. I think everyone could probably use someone to talk to.”

“Yeah. Maybe I should get her number from you,” I said.

Before I could think twice about it, Aiden pulled out a little pad of paper and a pen from a pocket, jotted something down, and then handed me the paper. “Tell her Aiden recommended you. She’s really fantastic.”

I took the paper and nodded. Aiden smiled and took his leave, heading back into the kitchen.

I finished up lunch—the cupcake was light, fluffy, and just the right level of sweet—and headed back to the office.

I wasn’t totally sold on making an appointment with Helene, but it was something to consider.

I got back to work, and I was lost in a spreadsheet—this particular business was a hot mess with regards to keeping track of expenses and categorizing anything at all—when my phone rang. It was a number I didn’t recognize, and I figured it was the new client.

“Good afternoon, this is Josh. How can I help you?” I answered.

“Babe! Thank goodness you’re okay!”

I just sat there, frozen. It was Rick’s voice on the line, and he sounded relieved and happy to hear me.

“I’m so sorry, babe. I know you’re upset with me. I was really worried when I couldn’t get a hold of you. I thought something had happened to you.” His voice was vaguely reproachful at the last comment.

“Rick?” I asked stupidly.

“Of course, babe. What happened to you?” he asked.