“Hi, Nathan. It’s Shannon.”
“Hi, Shannon.” I popped another bite of chicken into my mouth. She had called twice that week and had texted me steadily since she left town. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about it—definitely not sure enough to postpone my dinner for the duration of our conversation.
“How was your day?” she asked.
I swallowed. “Not too bad. Still working. What’s up?”
“I wanted to let you know that I spoke to Caroline Bryson today. Leslie’s mom.”
My boots landed on the floor with a thud as I sat up straight in my office chair. “Oh, really?”
“Yes. She said she would be happy to speak with you, since you’re a friend of mine,” she said. “She wants to know if you can come back to Asheville this weekend.”
Sure she does. I could talk to Caroline Bryson on the phone and we both knew it.
I thought for a second. “Yeah, I could drive back tomorrow after work.”
I swear to God, I could hear her smiling.
“Great! I’ll let her know to maybe plan for Saturday,” she said.
“Awesome. Thanks, Shannon.”
“Hey, Nathan?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you… um… Do you want to stay with me?” Her voice cracked on the other end of the line.
If I were a better detective, I wouldn’t have been surprised by the question. I thought for a second. Free place to stay, probability of sex… “Sure, I guess.” Then I remembered her damn dog and almost winced audibly.
“Great! I’ll text you my address in case you don’t remember how to get here,” she said, her voice bubbling over with excitement on her end of the line.
“Fantastic. I’ll head that way tomorrow after work,” I said. “Thanks, Shannon.”
“My pleasure. Bye, Nate.”
I hung up the phone and stared at it for a long minute.
Reese was right. I have a girlfriend.
* * *
It was dark and the sky was spitting snow by the time I pulled up in front of Shannon’s apartment building Friday night. My door creaked as I slammed it shut and slung my backpack over my shoulder. On the walk up to her door, I continued my internal deliberation over how I wanted this weekend to play out. ‘The Talk’ was coming. I could feel it in my bones.
My three sharp knocks on the door triggered the nerve-shattering yelps of Baby Dog who was no doubt lying in wait for me inside the apartment. Even through the thick metal door, I could hear her growling.
The door opened a half a foot, and Shannon was using her leg to barricade the dog inside. Satan was losing her shit, head-butting the back of Shannon’s calf as she tried to charge me.
“Your dog hates me!” I shouted over the incessant barking.
She reached down and picked her up. “I’m so sorry.” She backed away from the door so I could walk inside.
Baby Dog bared her teeth viciously.
Shannon tried to soothe her ruffled fur. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into her!”
I laughed and shook my head, dropping my bag at the door. Shannon carried the dog down the hall and locked her in the bedroom. She was still barking.
I ran my fingers through my frost-covered hair. “Is she like this with everyone or am I special?”
Shannon sighed. “She hates men.”
I rolled my eyes. Great. A cock-blocking canine.
My nose detected the scent of roasting meat.
“It smells amazing in here. Did you cook?” I asked, unzipping my jacket.
Shannon reached to help me. “Here, let me take your coat.”
Surprised, I let her pull my jacket off my arms.
Her blonde head tilted in the direction of the kitchen. “I figured you didn’t take time to stop and eat, so I made dinner. I hope you like beef stroganoff.”
“I like beef anything.” I straightened my shirt as she hung my coat by the door. “Thank you.”
It was then that I noticed the effort Shannon had put into my visit. The table was set with more plates than we needed. There were candles and a bottle of wine in the center. The apartment looked like it had been professionally cleaned. And Shannon, well… even though she was just wearing jeans and a sweater, Shannon looked like she had just walked off the cover of a magazine. There could be worse things than having a girlfriend, I suppose. I stretched my hand toward her, and she blushed as she took it. I pulled her close and kissed her.
She smiled and put her hands on my chest when I pulled away. “Are you hungry?”
“Starved.”
The next morning, I awoke to a blonde head on my shoulder and snow on the ground outside. It felt good. Damn good—the blonde, not the snow, that is. The snow was cold, very cold, but it wasn’t quite deep enough to prevent a trip out to the Bryson’s house. Shannon was in the passenger’s seat, a spot I was getting used to seeing her in.