Page 8 of True Sight (Nat. 20, #4)

CONRAD

Y ou know what they don’t tell you about dogs? That they’re a pain in the ass. And loud. And way more fucking work than people let on. I mean really, who knew that a forty-five pound animal could be so needy.

Margaret dragged me to the local animal shelter and forced me to walk around no matter how loud I protested.

As we did laps, looking into one chain-linked gate after another, we looked at dog after dog.

Some would come up to the gate and bark, others would sit patiently, wagging their tails and hoping to be let out.

I wasn’t sure what I was looking for and wasn’t even sure I wanted a dog in the first place.

Until I saw her.

Scared and cowering in the corner, something in me shifted when I approached her kennel.

She was small and visibly shaking, firmly pressing her body up against the back wall of her cage.

There was a small cot with a pile of blankets on it and an empty food bowl that she must have flipped over after she cleaned it.

There were a few discarded toys, some more shredded than the others, tossed around the concrete floor.

Margaret had wandered off, not noticing I hadn’t continued on, and came back to look at her with me.

“Her name is Annie,” she read from the card dangling from a zip tie on the gate.

“Are you serious?” I asked, squatting down and poking a few fingers through the chain links. They told us explicitly not to do this, but I wasn’t worried. She seemed too afraid to do anything to hurt me.

“It’s what the card says.”

“Annie,” I whispered to myself. “Like Annie the orphan. Just like me.” I felt what some might assume is a smile spread across my face and sit down on the floor.

“Annie girl, come here,” I called out to her and waited.

“ Annie girl ?” Margaret cried out, her voice pitching up as if it was the cutest thing she’d heard all year.

“Oh stop. Don’t even start or we’re leaving.” I craned my neck to look up at her to speak, leaving my fingers hanging off of the gate, and saw her raise her eyebrows at me.

“Yeah but when we do, it looks like we’re taking someone home with us.

” That’s when I felt it. The distinct feeling of soft and squishy muscle against my fingers, soaking them in slobber.

I whip my head back around to look at her and her stubby tail is running like the Energizer Bunny and the once scared and closed off dog is looking at me like I’m its mother.

When I looked at her again and saw the happiness on her face, my heart melted the tiniest bit for me to feel it.

Great.

After filling out the paperwork and taking her for a walk, I was the proud owner of a three-year-old Australian shepherd.

Margaret helped me buy everything I needed for her on the way home and we let her pick out a toy from the pet store which she happily pulled from one of the low hanging bins that I’m sure they set up that way on purpose.

Once home, Margaret spent a few hours with us, helping me set up the kennel we bought for her and taking her on another walk.

Since bringing her home I’ve learned that she loves toys, especially ones that squeak even though they make me want to bash my head into the wall.

She also enjoys lying on the couch even if I tell her to get down but most of all, she loves being close.

This dog is on me like fucking velcro and nothing I do seems to get her to want to leave me alone.

All day yesterday I’d sat at my desk with her lying at my feet or on the couch behind me, staring at me in case I moved.

If she wasn’t sleeping, she was staring at me.

If I wasn’t at my desk, she would follow me around wherever I went, including the bathroom.

I put her in her kennel before leaving for ten minutes to walk to the coffee shop just around the corner only to be able to hear her crying from down the hall when I came home.

The sound of her crying made me want to rip my ears off so I decided she could just stay out whenever I left.

But even with her being incessantly clingy, she and I fell into a routine quickly.

I’d done hours of research about Australian shepherds after bringing her home and learned that they’re high-energy dogs and need lots of training, which was on my list of things to set up and get scheduled.

The last three days I’ve taken her on three walks a day and tried to play with her as much as I could while also getting my work done.

But no matter how many times I’d throw her toy across my apartment, she would always bring it back, waiting for me to throw it again.

Today will be different though as I have my meeting with Henry, which I expect to take at least a few hours since we’ll be discussing his project at length.

I thought it was weird he wanted to meet in person, but he paid my five- figure invoice without question, in full, so I’ll be showing up bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to be as polite and cordial as possible.

Before leaving, I stare at myself in the mirror and practice smiling.

Why does this look so forced? Do I always look like this when I smile?

A small yip comes from my feet, causing me to jump and look towards the sound only to find Annie and her plush alligator toy staring back at me.

“Yeah, I know it looks like I have a stick up my ass. I’m working on it. That’s why you’re here, remember?” Hanna’s gonna love this.

Stuffing my backpack with my laptop, mouse, charger, and headphones, I throw it over my shoulder and start to head for the door.

Annie, always quick under my feet, sticks close and tries to follow me out when I open the door.

Not having time for a game of chase, I grab her by the collar and gently push her back inside.

“No, it’s not time for a walk. You stay here, I’ll be back later.

Go lay down or something.” She looks up at me with wide eyes and I try to ignore how cute she looks.

I take a step out of my front door quickly and close it behind me, mentally crossing my fingers that everything will be okay when I return.

As I walk down the street and the sun hits my eyes, my head starts to throb the tiniest bit.

Bringing my hand up as a shield, the spot where my head collided with the guy who wasn’t paying attention yesterday aches.

I can’t believe someone can be so self-centered and so into themselves that they just run into another person like that.

And then to tell me that I need to stand up straight or I’ll get a hunch?

I mean, who the hell says that to another person?

My neck starts to get warm as I remember the interaction and the way his green eyes scanned my body after we ran into one another. Fucking prick .

Having reached the coffee shop, I pull my phone out and open my email.

Henry had sent me a message this morning letting me know he would be sitting in the back corner table and to come find him when I got there.

Quickly ordering a large black coffee, I take my drink and head towards where I assume I’ll find him.

As I approach the table, I see someone familiar already sitting there.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

He sees me coming and looks up, taking his headphones off his head and slowly sets them on the bench beside him. He squints at me, nearly glaring, and blinks a few times.

“I see you haven’t taken my advice about your posture,” he quips, his British accent coming out thick. “Look, I don’t have time for another verbal sparring match, I’m meeting someone, maybe another time though.”

“Are you Henry?” My voice drones.

“Yes, why are you— oh .” When the realization hits him, his face falls and his voice becomes small.

His eyes flick towards his computer and he pushes his lips out, making himself look like a duck suffering from constipation.

My lips pull into a line as an uncomfortable energy settles between us.

Quickly standing from the table, he shimmies his shoulders and takes a deep breath before plastering a smile on his face and extending his hand towards me.

I glance at it, then back at him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m starting over,” he says confidently, still smiling at me like a maniac. Who the hell smiles this much? And why are his teeth so annoyingly straight?

“Starting over?” I asked indignantly.

“Yes, starting over. It’s something I do. Whenever something is hard or challenging, or in our case incredibly awkward, I start over. It’s like a fresh start to try again when things didn’t work out the first time.”

Glaring at his hand again, I realize the kind of person I’m going to be working with.

He’s the kind of person who’s favorite motto is probably ‘look on the bright side’ and more than likely has motivational posters hung on his wall.

The kind of person who is always happy and acts like they have an entire rainbow shoved up their ass.

The way he’s looking at me reminds me of Bailey on a frighteningly high level.

Knowing that we will be working together over the next several months, I decide to play along.

“Fine, we can start over,” I agree and take his hand in mine to shake. When I do, my fingers react as if I just touched a hot stove and I pull my hand back immediately.

“You okay?” he asks, raising a brow at me.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get started.”

Over the next three hours, Henry and I walk through every part of his project and what he’s looking for.

What he wants isn’t necessarily complicated but it will be time intensive.

It’ll take me the next three months to get everything he’s looking for up and running which is perfect timing as he’s predicting the studio will open in January.

We talk about timeline, budget, features, soft launch dates, and everything in between before finally wrapping up just after lunch.

“Do you want some lunch? On me, please,” he offers, sliding his computer into his bag. When he smiles, his jaw flexes, making the sharp edges of it more defined.

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I need to get home and let my dog out.

” The words feel foreign as I say them but what feels stranger is knowing that someone is at home waiting for me.

Sure it might be my dog, but I haven’t had anyone waiting up for me in almost ten years.

It feels odd, but comforting, knowing I’m not going home to an empty house.

“You have a dog? That’s nice, I’ve always wanted a dog,” he exclaims as we stand from the table. He runs a hand through his warm brown hair and slings his backpack over his shoulder.

“That’s funny, I never wanted one,” I scoff.

“Then why’d you get one?”

I look at him for a beat before answering. “It was kind of a last minute decision,” I lie.

“Maybe I could meet them one day?” It’s a question, as if he’s asking me instead of making a suggestion. I hope he doesn’t think we’re friends because we are definitely not friends. I have all the friends I need.

“Uhh, sure. Maybe,” I reply, not wanting to be rude. We make our way out of the coffee shop and are standing in almost the exact same spot we had run into one another yesterday. Unsure of what to say, I simply wave and start towards my apartment.

“Hey, Conrad?” I turn and find him rubbing the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable.

“Yeah?”

“Can I—can I have your number? To text you about questions I have or whatever,” he quickly adds on. Normally I only ever talk with my clients over email or Zoom, but I have a feeling nothing will be normal about working with him.

“Sure, yeah, that’s fine,” I mutter, taking a few steps closer to him. I open a new text in my phone and hand it to him to punch in his number. When he hands it back to me, I text him my name so he has it.

“Thanks so much. Now I can just send you a quick note when I have them.” He smiles again for what feels like the four hundredth time. This guy should be the spokesperson for antidepressants.

“No problem. I’ll talk with you later then.” I wave again and hope that he doesn’t ever text me. The last thing I need is a needy dog and client.

It takes me ten minutes to walk home and I’m excited to eat and sit back down at my desk to finish my work day.

When I open the door though, my afternoon plans are instantly changed.

Several of the toys I’d purchased are shredded and unstuffed.

The pillows from my couch are destroyed and a couple lamps are on their sides.

Chew marks can be seen on the side of my couch, the plastic food bin sitting next to the front door is half empty.

It looks like a bomb had gone off while I was gone.

And sitting in the middle of it all is a very excited looking Annie, happy to see me now that I’m finally home.