Piper and Aiden’s relationship had been promoted from employment to dating status, and the new position came with a lot of perks. Piper stared across the restaurant table at Aiden, and she thought that the view from her new office had to be one of them.
He hadn’t wasted any time booking a reservation at The Dog and Bone, San Francisco’s latest in five-star dining for both two-legged and four-legged connoisseurs. It was booked up for weeks, but not, it seemed, if you were Aiden Caldwell.
The waitress sauntered over, carrying two steaks with a side of butternut squash and blueberries. A decadent meal fit for a king and his queen, which Colin and Sophie were. The waitress placed the dishes on the table, setting them in the depressions bored into the rich cherrywood so they wouldn’t move around the table as the customers devoured their meals.
Sophie sniffed at the food uncertainly. She glanced from the juicy slab of medium-rare to the waitress, wondering if she’d made a mistake.
What cruel joke is this? Sophie seemed to huff at her. Why are you teasing me, evil servant?
The idea of sitting at an actual table set with fine china clearly threw the doxie. Her dark eyes turned to Piper and Aiden, as if to ask permission to eat. Colin had no such reservations. He’d begun to gobble his New York strip loin before the plate was even on the table. Terrible manners for a date.
The waitress picked up a frosty bottle of beer. “Some specially brewed Hound Hooch for your friends?” she asked the humans.
“Is that safe?” Piper asked. “For dogs, I mean?”
“Don’t worry. There’s no alcohol. It’s supposed to taste like liquefied chicken.”
Piper wrinkled her nose. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“And for yourself?”
“I’ll go for the red wine,” she said. “Hold the chicken.”
“I’ll have the wine as well,” Aiden said. “In fact, why don’t you bring the bottle?”
The bottle? Piper worried about the cost of the fancy restaurant, not for the first time. She knew Aiden could afford it, but it still made her feel out of her depth.
The waitress finished serving them and headed for the Bow-wow Bar, where a row of wagging tails swished back and forth from holes in the backs of the stools. Like any good watering hole, it took all sorts to ensure a good party; the furry customers ranged from Chihuahuas to Great Danes. A blond English cocker mix near the end of the bar barked, and the bartender put his cloth down to refill her glass.
The pooches drank from their ergonomically designed wineglasses, tilted at the tops of the stems so the mouths of the glasses opened toward them. Next to Piper, Colin’s snout pressed into his own wineglass to sample his hooch. Between his lapping and Sophie’s eager meat chewing, they sounded like a couple of teenagers making out for the first time.
Piper turned to her own dish of baked salmon festooned with lemons and watercress in a display worthy of the Smithsonian. She was almost afraid to ruin the masterpiece. Digging in, she took her first bite, and her mouth exploded in a savory orgasm.
“Wow. The food is amazing.”
Aiden made a noise of agreement. “I think Sophie and Colin would agree with you.” Eyeing the room, he observed the oil paintings set in gilded picture frames and the dripping crystal chandelier casting a warm, romantic light on their table. “I didn’t expect it to be so”—he searched for the word—“decadent. I’ve never heard of this restaurant.”
“More and more restaurants in the city are starting to cater to dogs. The world of doggy couture is growing.”
“Doggy couture?”
“Yeah, you know, designer fashions, gourmet restaurants, puppy mansions.”
“Is that so? I wonder what kind of mortgage rates you could get for one of those.”
Piper laughed. “Addison owns her own dog spa. Business is booming. I heard about this restaurant from her after she came to the grand opening. She was promoting her business by offering complimentary pawdicures.”
“Well, I’m glad we came.” By the way he stared at her over his filet mignon, she knew he didn’t mean because of the menu.
“Me too.”
Of course, the second Addison told Piper how high-class the joint was she dug through Zoe’s closet to find something suitable. Her style fit the bill with her sleek sophistication. And since Zoe mostly planned weddings, up-and-coming designers would often send her free samples of their latest bridesmaid dress designs in hopes that she would recommend them to customers.
Piper caught Aiden eyeing her plunging neckline for the eighth time that night before they dropped back to his plate. The dress was a hit. While Zoe was a lot taller and leaner than her, the red asymmetrical number she borrowed managed to hug her curves just right—Lycra, she was convinced, had magical properties.
“So,” Aiden said. “Did you grow up here in San Francisco?”
“No. I was raised in Oregon on an onion farm.” She automatically smiled. It sounded like the start of a bad joke. Hell, most of her life felt like a bad joke.
“An onion farm?” His eyebrows shot up. “Do they grow a lot of onions in Oregon?”
“They do. In eastern Oregon mostly, around the Snake River Valley.”
He took another sip of wine. She could tell by the comical look on his face that those bad jokes were running through his mind.
“So did you have a lot of animals on the farm?”
“We did. A horse, a few pigs, a couple of dogs, about a billion barn cats, oh, and some Araucana chickens. They’re the breed that lays green eggs.”
“Green eggs? So Dr. Seuss wasn’t kidding?”
“Nope. We ate green eggs and ham for breakfast,” she said. “We wouldn’t have had so many animals, but every year or so I’d find a new friend. I would beg and beg, and eventually, I’d get my way.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He grinned.
“Old habits die hard.” Although that wasn’t entirely true. If she had her way, she’d already own a veterinarian clinic and she wouldn’t need to beg, borrow, and steal her friends’ clothes for a date. But she couldn’t complain too much. She did get Aiden.
“I decided at a young age that I wanted to work with animals. Not just wanted to. Had to. It’s part of me.”
“So you left Oregon to come here for school?”
“Not exactly. My mom found a job here after I finished high school, so I moved here with her.”
“So do you still live with her?”
“No. We lived together for about two years. After that, she moved to Washington to be near my brother, Ethan. He’s a lawyer there.”
“You have a brother?” He sounded surprised, like he should know this by now. They’d talked almost every day for two weeks, and the subject never came up. But it wasn’t by accident.
Inevitably, Aiden asked, “And your dad? Where’s he?”
“He died,” she said.
Aiden put down his fork. “I’m sorry.” And he looked it.
Guilt crept through her, like maybe she should have told him all this before. After all, he told her about his father when they’d first met. Then again, until Monday he’d just been her boss.
“Sometimes the farm seems like an entirely different life from this one.”
As though Colin could understand her as well as she could understand him, he leaned over and gave her neck a steaky kiss. She patted his head and poured him some more Hound Hooch.
“I don’t cook with onions much,” she said, trying to sound upbeat. “Even now, when I chop them up I can’t help but get a little teary.”
He huffed through his nose, acknowledging the joke, but didn’t laugh. This was a date. Their first date. She didn’t want to drag it down.
“It was a long time ago.” She tried to wave it away. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
But he stared at her like he could see right through her bullshit. He wasn’t going to let her off that easy. “It’s not fine. It never is.”
Her plastic smile melted. He knew. He’d been there. And by insisting it was fine, it would only cheapen what he went through.
“You’re right,” she said finally. “It wasn’t a joke. Not really. For years after, I couldn’t tell if it was the onions making me cry, or…” She shrugged. “Now I stick to shallots and leeks. The cousins of the onion. Far less emotional.”
This time he did smile a little. “I didn’t realize that food could be so emotional.”
“Oh yes, you should see me at Halloween time. All those pumpkin craniotomies. Then to top it off they get their guts scraped out. I’m a basket case.”
“I’ll never look at a jack-o’-lantern the same way again.” He picked up his fork and laughed to himself. “Actually, when I was a kid, I had my own food issues. After reading Charlotte’s Web”—he ducked his head—“I became a vegetarian for two years.”
She almost choked on her wine. “Really? That’s adorable.”
Blushing, he focused on cutting his steak, and when he’d finished that he decided the pieces needed to be smaller. The next time Aiden looked up, he took a sip of wine, and his gaze focused on Piper over the rim of his glass. His eyes flicked away from her for only a moment, but this time it wasn’t her cleavage that distracted him. It was something behind her.
He cringed like his wine had turned sour in his mouth.
“What’s wrong?” Piper shifted to look behind her, but he stopped her with a wave of his hand.
“Don’t look. I don’t want to draw attention to us.”
“Why? What is it?”
“Trouble.” He sighed, putting his fork down. “Holly Hart just walked in.”