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Leaning over the desk until his face was only inches away from Nick’s, the older man said, “Now, listen here, Nicky, I don’t know what’s had your shorts in a knot over the last few weeks, but I expect you to get over it and start giving me the type of show that got you syndicated in fourteen states and put all that damn money in your fat bank account. Now, get to work and give me an outline that will keep me laughing all day. Understand?”
When Nick refused to answer, the station manager stomped out of the office and slammed the door behind him, leaving Nick sitting at his desk in a stew. Damn, but this week has already gotten off to a rotten start, he thought. He hadn’t been at his desk long enough to take his first sip of coffee when the vet called to inform him that Earl was going to be a daddy. The woman also insisted on examining Earl as soon as possible. For what, Nick had no idea.
But with the way his luck had been running lately, Nick wouldn’t be surprised if Earl didn’t have some dreaded doggy social disease.
Caught off guard by the call, Nick hadn’t objected when Dr. Bishop gave Earl an appointment for eleven o’clock that morning. Of course, once he thought things over, he was thoroughly p-o’d that the lovely Miss Collins hadn’t bothered to contact him herself. Nick resented being ordered around by a hired associate, and he intended to tell Miss Collins so himself before the day was over.
Glancing at his watch, Nick sighed, knowing he barely had time to dash home and grab Earl, then hurry back downtown to make the damn vet appointment. Calculating he probably wouldn’t return to the office until well after noon, he figured he’d have only a few hours to do the new outline his surly station manager had just requested.
“Damn, I hate Mondays,” Nick grumbled to himself as he grabbed his leather jacket from the back of his chair.
Heading for the elevator, Nick ignored the scowling station manager and banged against the down button with the ball of his fist.
“And where the hell do you think you’re going?” yelled his boss from across the cluttered radio station.
“I’m going to see a lady about a dog,” Nick yelled back, then disappeared into the elevator, cutting off a string of angry curses when the doors finally slid together.
“CALM DOWN, DEE, I can’t understand a word you’re saying,” Cassie said as she listened to the excited voice on the other end of the telephone line. However, when it finally registered what her best friend was trying to tell her, Cassie’s eyes grew wide with concern.
“I mean it, Cassie, get out of that office before Nick Hardin gets there. I’ve never seen anyone so angry.”
Cassie jumped from her chair and hurried to the window behind her desk. Peeking through the miniblinds, she searched the parking lot below her second-story window. She would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so serious. Pulling into a parking space near the building entrance was Nick on his big Harley, with Earl perched between the handlebars looking like Snoopy in his Red Baron pose.
“It’s too late, Dee,” Cassie gasped. “He’s already here.”
Hurrying back to her desk, Cassie rummaged through her top drawer, searching for her compact. A madman was on his way to her office possibly to end her life, yet her first instinct was to make sure she’d make an attractive corpse. Satisfied with her appearance, she slipped the compact back into the drawer, then quickly flipped the intercom switch.
“Sally, a man in a black leather motorcycle jacket is going to burst through the door any minute carrying a dog under his arm,” Cassie told the law student who was her assistant for the summer. “Give him an appointment if you have to, Sally, but don’t, and I repeat don’t let him into my office under any circumstances.”
“I beg your pardon?” came a shocked reply from the voice box on Cassie’s desk.
“Just do it, Sally,” Cassie begged, knowing that the young woman who had promptly adopted Cassie as her role model was probably now making the assumption that the usually professional Miss Collins had suddenly resorted to taking heavy doses of some mind-altering drug.
Trying to quiet her rattled nerves, Cassie forced herself to pick up the brief she’d been working on, but tensed at the sound of raised voices filtering through her closed office door. Within seconds, her office door burst open and Nick stormed inside, holding his fuzzy companion in the crook of his arm.
“I’m sorry, Miss Collins, he rushed past me before I could stop him,” the freckle-faced student wailed as she hovered in the doorway.
“That’s okay, Sally,” Cassie said, then forced a smile at Nick when Sally quickly closed the door and sealed Cassie and the enemy inside the room alone.
Show no fear, Cassie told herself, then calmly rose from her desk. “Is there a problem?”
“I’d say that’s putting it mildly,” Nick growled.
After plunking Earl down on one of the expensive leather chairs that faced Cassie’s desk, Nick pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his inside jacket pocket. When he tossed the paper on Cassie’s desk, she saw the name Dr. Dee Bishop printed across the top of the page.
“Is this some kind of a joke?” Nick demanded.
“Do you see me laughing?”
“What I see is a woman who has a vivid imagination if she thinks I’m going to fork over fifteen hundred dollars for one vet appointment.”
Cassie glared at Earl, who had not only spent the past few minutes digging at the expensive leather of her chair, but who now held one leg high in the air while he expertly licked himself where no human could. “The cost of passion runs high these days, Mr. Hardin.” Cassie nodded toward Earl. “If your dog had spent more time engaged in the activity he’s enjoying now, none of us would be in this mess.”
Slightly embarrassed, Nick thumped Earl on the head, prompting the dog to stop the lewd performance and sit obediently in the chair. Locking eyes with Cassie again, Nick said, “Excuse the pun, counselor, but as far as I’m concerned, there’s never been a piece of tail worth fifteen hundred dollars.”
Cassie blanched slightly but quickly recovered. “I have no doubt you’re well versed in what the going price for human flesh is these days,” she said, pleased when his eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “But I warned you from the very beginning that your negligence would be expensive.”
“Negligence?” Nick shouted. “You seem to be forgetting it takes two to tangle, counselor. What I don’t understand is why you think you’re automatically exempt from being negligent. If you’d been keeping an eye on your precious show dog, Earl couldn’t have jumped her in the first place.”
Cassie placed both hands on her hips, her lips puckered in annoyance. “Excuse me for bringing it up, but Duchess was in her own fenced backyard.”
Nick’s eyes hardened. “Just as Earl was in his fenced backyard when I let him out that morning. I had no more control over him digging out of my yard and under your fence than you had when the queen of the dog world decided to lift her groomed tail when Earl sniffed in her direction.”
His heated glare left Cassie slightly singed and more than a little shaken. She watched as he ran his hands through the long, sun-streaked strands of his hair. When he looked at her again, his eyes had lost a little of their anger, but the tension in the room was still bouncing off the walls like supercharged Ping-Pong balls.
“Look,” Nick said. “We can stand here and insult each other all day, or we can try to settle this problem like two rational adults. You tell me. What’s it going to be?”
Cassie had no intention of giving an inch, but she was willing to hear what her opponent had to say. Giving a tense nod to the leather chair that wasn’t currently being occupied, Cassie took her own seat behind her desk. “I’m open to suggestions if you have any.”
Nick dropped into the seat facing her, but Cassie found she had trouble ignoring the way his muscled thighs strained against the faded material of his jeans. The way his leather jacket was unzipped low enough to expose the golden hair peeking over the top of his V-neck polo shirt didn’t do much for her concentration, either. Feeling her willpower ooze out of her like air from a leaky balloon, she had to use every ounce of her self-control to keep from grabbing the lapels of his jacket and dragging him across her desk for another one of his mind-blowing kisses.
Unaware that he was on the verge of being attacked, Nick sent her a semifriendly smile that was a hair short of being a smirk. “Before we go any further, do you think you could humor me during this conversation and stop calling me Mr. Hardin?”
“If you’ll stop calling me ‘counselor.”’
“Okay, Cassandra.”
“Cassie,” she corrected him.
He seemed surprised. “Cassie,” Nick repeated in that deep southern drawl that drove her crazy. “Yeah, I like Cassie much better.” The smile he gave her this time was breathtaking, weakening her defenses even more.
“Well, the way I see it, Cassie, we’re both victims of circumstance in this situation. I happen to know this famous show dog belongs to your mother.”
“That doesn’t have anything—”
Nick held his hand up. “Now, wait a minute. All I’m saying is that I’ve already figured out the main reason you’re so upset about this dog siring a bunch of unregistered pups is because it was your responsibility to take care of her while your mother is in Europe. Am I right?”
Cassie couldn’t disagree. “And you’re a victim because…?”
“Like I said before. Neither of us have any control over Mother Nature. The dogs got together. All we can do now is deal with it.”
Cassie licked her lips involuntarily when Nick leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him. Despite her determination not to look, the healthy bulge between his legs caught Cassie’s attention faster than if a flashing neon sign had been sewn to the metal tab on his zipper. Forcing herself to look away, Cassie realized he was still talking, but she only caught the tail end of his next sentence.
“…so, I think it’s only fair that we work together on this, and split the expenses fifty-fifty.”
Cassie leaned forward and rested her arms on her desk. “You realize, of course, this one vet bill won’t be all of the expenses incurred during this ordeal.”
Nick shrugged. “Sure, I figured the dog would have to be seen regularly by the vet while she’s carrying the puppies. And then I guess the puppies will need shots—”
“There’s also a weekly fee for the sitter,” Cassie interrupted without thinking.
A dark cloud crossed Nick’s face as he sat upright in the chair. “What did you say?”
“I’ve hired a sitter to stay with Duchess during the day until I get home from the office,” Cassie answered nonchalantly. “I do work for a living, you know.”
“But a sitter? I mean, we are talking about a dog here.”
“A world-class champion,” Cassie reminded him. “Besides, I leave home at seven in the morning and usually don’t get home until seven or later in the evening. Duchess is going to have to be fed properly and exercised at least three times a day.”
With that said, she reached for the calculator on her desk. “That will average out to the sitter working about twelve hours a day. At $6.50 per hour, that will be…” Cassie started punching in the numbers, but Nick’s quick mind did the math before she could finish.
“That’s seventy-eight dollars a day,” Nick barked in disbelief. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You’re talking about over fifteen hundred dollars a month. And the dog still has to carry those puppies for…”
“At least one more month, maybe a little longer,” Cassie provided. “The vet says there’s no way to know when she’ll deliver. This is Duchess’s first litter. The puppies could be early or they could be late.”
Nick stood up and unzipped his jacket the rest of the way, giving Cassie the impression that he suddenly found the room much too warm. After walking back and forth in front of her desk several times, he stopped and shook his head in disbelief. “So what you’re telling me, is that on top of these outrageous vet bills, you expect me to pay someone to come to your house and sit with a dog?”
“You said fifty-fifty, Nick,” Cassie reminded him smugly, using her first opportunity to call him by name.
A muscle twitched along his lower jaw. “I know what I said, Cassie,” he snapped, “and I will pay my half of the vet bills, but paying a personal nursemaid to sit for a dog is where I have to draw the line.”
Cassie bristled. “Then I’m afraid we’re back to square one, aren’t we?”
Instead of trying to negotiate a plan B as Cassie had expected, Nick snapped his fingers, prompting Earl to propel himself from the chair and into his master’s arms. “Then sue me,” Nick said, his voice full of confidence.
Cassie was so shocked, she couldn’t seem to find her voice. Before she was able to respond, Nick strolled to the door with his furry friend tucked under his arm. But when he reached for the doorknob he looked back over his shoulder and sent Cassie that cocky grin she was quickly growing to despise.
“But I’ll make you one wager, counselor. This will be the damnedest fight you’ve ever had in a courtroom.”
As furious as she was, Cassie wouldn’t permit herself to dignify his last remark with a comeback. And even before the big Harley-Davidson thundered to life and roared out of the parking lot, Cassie’s fingers were already pounding her computer keys, typing up the paperwork that would put Nick Hardin’s latest challenge to the test.
5
“ALIMONY, PALIMONY…but pet-imony? Remember, you heard it here first, folks. It looks as if the world really is going to the dogs. As if our courts aren’t already overloaded with senseless lawsuits that clog the system and stand in the way of justice, it seems yours truly has been hit with a ridiculous lawsuit that will make all others pale in comparison. In fact, I’m willing to conduct a public-opinion poll here at the radio station to see if my faithful listeners don’t agree that the lawsuit I’m sharing with you today shouldn’t win first prize in the Stupid Lawsuit of the Year Contest…”
Cassie switched off the kitchen radio and began devouring her bagel with the ferocity of a man-eating tiger. Her only satisfaction was the fact she’d been the one to draw first blood. Thanks to modern technology and that wonderful little invention called the fax machine, his truly had been served with her lawsuit less than four hours after he strolled confidently out of her office.
“Stupid Lawsuit of the Year Contest, my elbow,” Cassie mumbled under her breath, then whistled for the ball of white fluff that was lying in the middle of the kitchen floor. When Duchess refused to acknowledge her, Cassie left her chair and drew the tiny bundle into her arms. “You have to eat something, sweet girl,” Cassie cooed as she stroked the dog’s soft fur. “You have little puppies to think about now.”
The old woman standing beside Cassie sent Duchess a worried look of her own. “I prepared her food just like Dee instructed,” she said.
“I know you did, Louise. I’ve tried to get her to eat this morning, but she won’t even take a nibble.”
“Well, the poor little thing’s gonna have to eat something.” Louise sighed, wiping her wrinkled hands on her bright-colored apron. “She’s as limp as a dust mop now. She sure can’t go on like this much longer.”
Cassie gave the dog a final pat and smiled when Duchess rewarded her with a halfhearted kiss on the chin. After handing the dog over to her new nursemaid, Cassie picked up her attaché case from the kitchen table and glanced at her watch.
“I’m running late, Louise, but I’m going to call Dee as soon as I get to the office. In the meantime, you might try tempting Duchess with those milk-bone treats she likes. I bought her some new toys, too. They’re in a box in the sun-room.”
“Don’t you worry about us. I’ll take good care of her,” Louise said as Cassie headed down the hallway. “Me and Miss Duchess will do whatever it takes to get some food inside that little tummy of hers.”
Cassie pulled out of the driveway minutes later, feeling a twinge of guilt for running off to work when Duchess was in such a fragile state. After the initial shock had worn off, Cassie was actually looking forward to having a few more bundles of white fur romping through the house. Or was her ticking biological clock just using this opportunity to bring out her maternal instincts?
Sliding her hand over her taut stomach, she wondered briefly what it would be like to have another life stirring inside her. She’d never given much thought to marriage or to motherhood before, especially since her work had always been the driving force in her life. But now that she thought about it, she realized that she would want a large family. Possibly because being an only child had been such a tremendous burden to bear.
More than once Cassie had wondered if having brothers and sisters may have made life with Lenora a little easier. Dee scolded her on a regular basis for being the “dutiful daughter,” and she had been, but Cassie had done so out of love, not fear. Despite Lenora’s overbearing personality, Cassie loved her mother dearly. And like her father, she had just found it much easier to bend to Lenora’s will.
Thinking about her parents now, Cassie realized how quickly things had gotten out of hand in their short absence. Duchess was pregnant, and Cassie may as well have been pregnant since everyone in Asheville was buzzing about the rumor Evelyn Van Arbor repeated to anyone who would listen. Cassie hadn’t missed the snide looks people sent her way, or the fact that everyone she ran into lately had their eyes focused directly on her stomach.
“Oh, well, I don’t have time to worry about the rumor now,” Cassie said aloud as she pulled into her reserved parking space. She had more important things to occupy her mind at the moment.
Things like whether or not Dee had the ability to pull a magic potion out of her bag of doggy tricks and make Duchess well again.
“NICK, OLD BOY, you’ve really hit pay dirt this time.”
Nick barely grunted when the station manager strolled into his office with a silly grin plastered across his fleshy cheeks. Ignoring Nick’s cool regard, the man perched a hip on the corner of the desk, looking like the Cheshire cat who followed Alice around in Wonderland.
“I’m not kidding, Nick,” his boss said when Nick still failed to respond. “The damn phone’s been ringing off the hook all morning, and the e-mail’s piling up faster than a bar tab at a Shriners convention. Everybody in town seems to have an opinion about this lawsuit of yours, and so far, those for you outnumber the nay-sayers ten to one.”
“I’m flattered,” Nick mumbled, though he really couldn’t care less.
Sure, he’d been fired up when he went on the air that morning, especially on the heels of receiving that lawsuit. But by the end of the day Nick’s rage had evaporated around him like the lifting of an early morning fog. And what settled in its place was much worse than anger.
Like a multimega amplifier, the same name kept reverberating through Nick’s mind in an endless chant: Cassie. Cassie. Cassie.
“Are you listening to me, Nick?”
“Sure, I’m listening,” Nick said as he reluctantly met the man’s gaze.
“I’m serious about this, boy. I want you to milk this story for all it’s worth. I mean, I want this story broadcast right down to the minute when the judge bangs his gavel and ends the courtroom proceedings.”
“I’m hoping the judge will throw the damn case out of court,” Nick grumbled.
“Even better,” the station manager assured him. “Think about it, boy. You’ll be an instant hero to all those little people out there who have their doubts about their ability to fight city hall and win.”
Deciding his boss had evidently lost a few shingles since the last storm, Nick shook his head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves on this, Bob. I talked to my attorney yesterday and he said there’s a good chance I’ll lose this case.” Pointing to the legal document on his desk, Nick added, “Those papers charge me with being in flagrant violation of the City of Asheville’s leash law. And whether I like it or not, my dog was running loose.”
The manager frowned for a moment, but the frown quickly faded. “Hell, who cares whether you win this case or not? The way our ratings are going up, I’ll pay your damn court costs myself. We’re on a roll, son. Don’t drop the ball now.”
Nick should have felt comforted by the friendly slap on the back before his boss left the room, but he didn’t. Leaving his chair, he walked to the window at the end of the room and stared out at the majestic Blue Ridge Mountains that surrounded Asheville like a protective barricade. He’d fallen in love with the sleepy town several years earlier when he’d attended a radio convention as the guest speaker. Though his friends in Atlanta declared him insane when he turned his back on the big-city lights and headed for a town with a population of less than 100,000, Nick hadn’t regretted his decision once since his arrival.
In fact, it was almost as if some outside force like an imaginary magnet had drawn him to the mountains.
Of course, he hadn’t exactly been welcomed with open arms. His neighbors didn’t care for his unconventional ways. But despite the fact that he would never conform to their ridiculous social protocol, he secretly admired the old families who held their traditions sacred, and who were determined to preserve a heritage for upcoming generations. Nick had been bounced back and forth over the entire nation by the time he turned sixteen. Now, for a reason he still couldn’t explain, it seemed as if he’d finally come home.
Deciding a long ride on the Blue Ridge Parkway might lift his spirits, Nick walked back to his desk and glanced at the outline he’d drawn up for the next day’s early morning program. Despite his foul mood, he had to admit the material was extremely funny. He intended to thoroughly explore what he’d called “Earl’s Day in Court,” complete with a scenario where Earl would have to raise his right paw when he took the witness stand in his own defense.
After stapling the papers together, Nick motioned to one of his co-workers who was passing by his door. “Make sure Bob sees this outline for tomorrow’s program,” he instructed, then grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
