On the day I opened the shelter, Rhiannon and Victoria brought a huge, red velvet ribbon. I have no idea where they found it. It didn’t wrap all the way around the building, of course, but it was large enough to tie from one end of the front to the other, and the bow at the center was massive.
I had selected five pets to start, and after cutting that ribbon, we brought them inside the building Mom and Dad had said I could use.
The barking, and the screeching, and the meowing wasn’t very regal, but it was a good precursor for the chaos to follow. Only, now that I’m officially closing down the shelter after more than six years, I’m not sure how to commemorate that. Or if I even want to.
“Have you found a new place yet?” Rhiannon asks.
My laugh sounds more like a wail. “Not really. Not unless I want to take up home renovation—or, shelter renovation?” I sigh. “Every place in my price point is a total dump.”
Victoria picks up a broom. “I feel bad walking out without cleaning at all.”
“Like you’ve ever cleaned in your life,” Rhiannon says.
“Not true,” Victoria says. “I always clean up the crossties when I’m done tacking up or down. And I scrub the bathrooms at the barn every week.”
“The girl can sweep, ladies and gentlemen,” I say.
“And scrub,” Victoria says.
I scrunch my nose. “Have you seen your bathrooms? I wouldn’t advertise that you’re in charge of keeping them clean.”
“It’s so quiet now,” Rhiannon says.
I look around then, slowly. We took the last pets to Kristy this morning, and now I have to lock up for the last time.
“They’re demolishing it?” Victoria shakes her head. “It seems like such a waste.”
“Tell my parents that,” I say. “Believe me. I have.”
“They really don’t care?” Victoria looks like she’d gladly punch them for me.
But I can’t really fault them. “It is their building, and they need the money.”
“Like the world doesn’t have enough warehouses,” Rhiannon says. “Just, ugh.”
“Richmond Steel,” Victoria says. “I still can’t believe that handsome boy hasn’t ridden in on a white horse yet—”
“Forget a white horse,” Rhiannon says. “Her horse just won its first Grand Prix, and she wasn’t even riding him.”
“He won?” I had specifically not looked, since I didn’t get to watch him myself. My heart lurches a little, but I shake my head. “I knew he would do great. I’m proud of him.”
“You made that little horse into what he is. You took something broken, and you turned it into a shining star.” Victoria beams. “That’s kind of your thing. That Emerson kid was a wreck, and now he’s telling off his grandmother and working for his rich uncle.”
“And marrying some other girl,” Rhiannon whispers. “Maybe ease-a up-a on-a eh-they Emerson-a.”
“Pig Latin was stupid when we were kids,” Victoria says. “Please don’t accost my ears with it now.”
“It’s better than actual Latin,” I say.
“Which we can only read, and then, just barely.” Rhiannon shudders.
I got a F in that class, but no one mentions that, blessedly. “Well, then, what do we do to commemorate closing the shelter?”
Victoria skips toward the door, leans down, and snatches a bag off the floor. “I brought wine.”
Rhiannon laughs. “That seems fitting.”
We drink the first two bottles. By the end of the second one, I’m not quite as depressed, which is nice. “I mean.” I stand up and hug the column near the door. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“You never wanted one,” Rhiannon says.
“Plus, you just told us he wasn’t really your boyfriend,” Victoria says.
Crap. I did?
Well, I couldn’t tell anyone it was fake before, but now that we’ve broken up, it’s not like I’m breaking rules. “Right. It was never real.”
“So, then you’re better off without him,” Victoria says.
“I don’t have an animal shelter anymore,” I say.
“Hey, we haven’t even left yet.” Rhiannon’s slurring a little. “It’s still yours. Your horrible boyfriend’s grandma hasn’t stolen it.”
I shake my head. “He’s not my boyfriend, and he’s not horrible. She is.”
“That’s what I said,” Rhiannon says. “Geez.”
“You said my horrible boyfriend, but he’s not horrible,” I say.
“We should’ve left the animals here,” Victoria says. “Then you could have climbed into a tree and refused to leave. Or if they bashed the building, they could run free.”
I think we may be mixing metaphors. But she does have some good ideas. “Only, now it’s too late for that,” I say.
“Ooh, call him and yell at him,” Rhiannon says.
“At who?” Now I’m really lost.
“At the boyfriend,” Rhiannon says.
“For what?” I blink. “Plus, I said he wasn’t horrible.”
“For not saving your shelter. Duh.” Victoria swipes my phone. “How did you have him saved?” She holds my phone up to make my own face unlock it.
“You know, this face technology is pretty lousy.” I’ve never thought of this before, but it’s how I know I’m not drunk. I’m having these big thoughts I’ve never had, and you don’t get smarter when you’re drunk. “If I got kidnapped, the napper could just use my own face to open my phone.” I shake my head. “Dumb.”
“You’re not a kid,” Victoria says. “You can’t get kidnapped.”
“Man, we are so smart,” I say.
And I hear a phone ringing. “Hello?”
Victoria has it on speaker. That’s better.
“Elizabeth?”
“I like how he says my name,” I say.
They both giggle.
“Elizabeth, are you alright?”
“She’s ticked at you for being a horrible boyfriend,” Victoria says. “Her horse is sold. Her shelter is gone. And now she doesn’t even have a hot boyfriend anymore.”
“Wait, am I horrible or am I hot?”
I could listen to his voice all day. “Both,” Victoria says.
“Who thinks I’m hot?” he asks.
“We all do,” I say. “But mostly me.”
“Is that you, Elizabeth?”
He said my name again. That makes me smile. “Yeppers.”
“How much have you had to drink?”
“I have to surrender the shelter today by five p.m.”
“That’s an hour,” he says.
“But we might climb into a tree,” Victoria shouts. “We could refuse to leave.”
“There aren’t any large trees on the shelter property.” Emerson’s so smart. So, so smart.
“How did he even notice that?” Rhiannon shakes her head. “No trees at all.”
“We need a new plan, then,” Victoria says.
“We’ll think of something to save the shelter,” I say, “but Emerson.”
“Yeah?”
I have no idea what I was going to say.
“Emerson, Elizabeth’s too scared to ask, but if we save the shelter, can you come here and be her boyfriend again?” Victoria asks.
“Hey.” I can’t believe she just said that. But then I really want to know what he says. I crawl closer to the phone and press my ear close to it.
“I thought you said I was horrible,” he says. “Why would she want me back?”
“Well, you didn’t save her horse or her shelter, but you are hot.” Rhiannon chuckles.
“He is hot,” I say.
“And what about her horse?” Rhiannon asks. “Who’s going to buy her horse back if you don’t?”
“Or buy a nice big white one,” Victoria asks. “That might be better.”
“Shh,” I say. “He has to answer about the boyfriend thing still.”
But when I look down at the phone, somehow the call has disconnected. “Hey.” I poke at buttons, and then I realize my battery must have died. Nothing is lighting up.
I swear under my breath.
“Hey, we should clean up,” Victoria says. “There are, like, trucks pulling up outside.”
“In the afternoon?” Rhiannon’s muttering swear words under her breath. Someone as posh and classy as her should not use words like that. It makes me laugh.
We gather all the trash into one bag, and then we manage to get all our stuff together. Finally, we’re ready to leave the shelter. In a bizarre moment of clarity, I realize that I can’t just get sloshed and walk out. It’s not a fitting departure.
“Hey, is there any wine left?” I ask.
Rhiannon clutches the bottle against her chest. “Just one, and you can’t have any. You definitely won’t be able to drive.”
Driving. Well, that sucks. I doubt any of us can drive.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I’m not drinking it. Here.” I hold out my hand and wiggle my fingers. “Hand it over.”
Rhiannon glares, but eventually she passes it over. I open the front door and dance onto the porch. And then I spin round and round and round and smash the wine into the support beam that Richmond Steel is going to knock down tomorrow.
The bottle actually breaks, and wine splashes all over.
“Whoa,” a man says.
I spin around, and I realize that right behind me, Emerson was climbing the stairs to the shelter. I’ve just soaked him.
“I guess I deserve that,” he says.
“What?” I blink.
“The first time we met, I covered you in champagne.” His eyes are sparkling.
“You did.”
He nods. “And now we’re even. The first time you see me after our breakup, you soak me in wine.”
“It was an accident,” I say.
“I noticed that too.” He shakes his hands and wine flings all over.
“You’re not even supposed to be here,” Rhiannon says. “And you cut your hair. You were hotter with longer hair.”
He laughs. “Duly noted.”
“I agree,” Victoria says. “But you’re still okay now.”
“You two are a fun bunch of friends.” He looks back at me. “I thought, in the interest of the trees in the neighborhood, I should come by.” His smile’s adorable. He’s way, way better looking than I remembered, even with short hair.
And I remembered him as being really handsome.
I swear under my breath again.
“What?” He steps toward me, his eyes searching for the problem.
“You’re hot,” I say. “Way hotter than I remembered.”
He starts to laugh. And he steps closer yet again. So close I can almost feel the heat from his body. And even though it’s hot, I still like it.
I lean just a hair closer, and I breathe in deeply. “You smell good.”
“I do.” His voice sounds disbelieving.
“Like that cologne I love, the oceany-floraly-one. And also like grapes.”
“Fermented grapes?” he asks. “Because I think that part came from you. . .”
“Right.” I bob my head.
“How about I give you three a ride to wherever you want to go?”
“A knight in shining. . .wine.” Rhiannon laughs uproariously at her bad joke.
“You’re not very funny,” I say.
“You’re all delightful,” he says.
“Then why don’t you sit down and have a drink with us,” Victoria says.
“I see two issues with that,” Emerson says. “First, we have no more wine. I think I’m wearing the end of it.”
“And?” Victoria says.
“And they’re all waiting for us.” He points.
As if they appeared out of nowhere, I suddenly notice not one, not two, but three different groups of men, and a few big trucks, hovering.
“What’s happening?” I ask.
“The ownership changes hands at five p.m.,” he says. “And that’s three minutes away.”
“Are they really tearing it down right now?” It brings tears to my eyes. I knew they’d tear it down, but I don’t want to see it.
Emerson drags me toward his chest, and I collapse, breathing him in. Grapes and ocean and a surprising amount of muscle on a lean guy. “Do you work out?”
He laughs. “Only as much as Jake badgers me into doing. Mostly I play soccer.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “I like slender guys when they’re smart.”
He chuckles again. “Why don’t you come with me, Elizabeth. I’ll get you three home.”
And he does. But by golly, I wish he’d just have come home with me. If anything, time away from him has only made me miss him more.