“Same thing,” he hedged.
“It’s not!”
“Whatever. It’s definitely you who lost the dog.”
“The house is locked, man. Nothing’s been touched. He’s gotta be in here somewhere. I just can’t find him. We’ve gotta be just missing each other or something.”
“Missing each other? Like he’s just in constant motion?” he asked with a laugh, and I imagined choking him.
“I don’t know! But he’s got to be in here.”
“Did you call Kline?”
“No,” I rejected. “He’s busy. I don’t think I should bother him until I have to.”
“Well…I guess you better start making flyers.”
“To post inside my house? Julia and Ace already know he’s missing, thank you very much. They’re on the hunt.”
“Julia and Ace.” He laughed. “I guess at least you didn’t lose them.”
The line clicked dead, and I pulled the phone away from my ear slowly.
Good Christ, thanks for nothing, asshole.
Ten minutes into our lunch and Stan appeared content by his dog mommy’s side. His giant head rested on Georgia’s lap while his eyes never lost focus of our food. Beef jerky or not, I had a feeling Stan the Man was probably getting a little hungry.
“Here, buddy,” I whispered and held out a piece of my chicken salad croissant. Stan lifted his head off of Georgia’s thigh and opened wide, smacking his jowls together in absolute delight once the creamy goodness touched his giant tongue.
“Stop. Feeding. My. Dog,” Georgia admonished, and I just smiled.
“I think he’s hungry.”
“He’s always hungry.”
“You think we should get him a cheeseburger or something?” I asked and glanced around the terrace for our waiter.
“For the love of God, no. He didn’t need beef jerky earlier, and he definitely doesn’t need a cheeseburger now.”
“He’s not a fan of burgers?”
Georgia snorted. “Uh…he’s never had one.”
“Really?” I asked in surprise. Philmore ate cheeseburgers all the time. Hell, he was even really fluffing picky about it. If we’d tried to hand him one without pickles and ketchup, he’d outright squeal his refusal.
Don’t worry, we’ve never given him bacon cheeseburgers.
Morals, remember?
“What exactly do you feed your pig?”
I shrugged. “He usually eats whatever we’re eating.”
“Pigs, and most animals for that matter, aren’t supposed to eat people food, Cass.”
I scoffed. “Says who?”
“Uh…Veterinarians.”
“Meh.” I waved her off with my free hand. “Half the time we just take Philmore to The Little Clinic up the street for his checkups.”
“Isn’t that a pediatric urgent care?”
“Yep.” I took a bite of my food and nodded. “Talk about convenient if Ace needs a checkup, too.”
“Good Lord, isn’t that illegal?”
“No,” I refuted. “I’m pretty sure Nancy would have told us that.”
“Who the fluff is Nancy?”
“Philmore’s nurse practitioner.”
Georgia sighed. “Sometimes, I wonder how you and Thatch manage to talk people into doing sh—stuff like that.”
“It’s all Thatcher.” I grinned. “He’s very lovable. Like a giant toddler inside of a sexy-as-fluff body.”
She laughed and shook her head. “One day, I swear to God, I won’t be surprised by some of the things that come out of your mouth.”
Before I could offer a retort, her phone buzzed across the table. We both glanced down to find Wes calling flashing across the screen.
“Jesus.” She looked up at me with annoyance in her eyes.
“Just play it cool,” I instructed and took a quick sip of water. “He’s probably not even calling about work.”
When the third ring vibrated her phone, signaling she wouldn’t be able to put off answering the call much longer, she groaned audibly. “Fine, but I’m putting it on speaker just in case you need to take over and tell him you made me leave work early,” she said and finally accepted the call.
“Hey, Wes,” Georgia greeted with nervousness more than apparent in her voice.
Her sweet innocence just wasn’t built for subterfuge.
“Listen, Georgia, I tried to call Kline, but it went straight to voice mail. I just got off the phone with Thatch, and I don’t want you to panic, but it’s very possible that Stan is missing…” Wes paused, and Georgia’s eyes went wide in confusion. And then she looked at me.