I did it. I got rid of the ring. I couldn’t turn it over and over in my fingers at night anymore, pining away for someone who didn’t give a damn about me.
Things would be better from here on out. I just had to keep believing that.
Chapter Two
Elena
A loud bark nearly startled me out of my seat. “Sorry, buddy,” I told Chauncey, scratching his fluffy poodle coat. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for us to go back there.”
Chauncey regarded me scathingly, then walked off and flopped down with a huff beside one of his many bones.
I sighed too. It had been two days since Chauncey had slipped out of the backyard through an unseen hole in fence beside the hedge row. I had found said hole and placed a decently heavy wooden board over it, but I was worried the excitable one-year-old labradoodle would push it out of the way and escape again.
“And we can’t have that, buddy, can we?” I murmured to the dog. My face was turning red, remembering how I’d been yelled at by that man on the beach. I had deserved it, though. Chauncey was my responsibility since I was dog sitting for the owners of this opulent estate, and he had escaped on my watch. Whatever the man had been holding could have disappeared down the labradoodle’s throat if he had been a little slower at moving his hand.
Just a few more days, anyway.I could tire Chauncey out with long walks and tug-of-war. He liked to run around the backyard, but if that wasn’t an option because of the hole, well…it would be okay. I had learned that the inquisitive dog never gave up looking for toys I had hidden or the location of a hole in the fence, either. So, the backyard wouldn’t be safe until a professional patched the fence.
I sighed again, looking around the massive living room. At first, I hadn’t known what to do with myself in this enormous home. The marble floors shone and showed even the slightest specks of dirt. The furniture looked as new as the day it had come off the assembly line – or, as was more likely with the owners of this place, been hand-crafted. Everything was just…fancy. The refrigerator in the kitchen had way too many little features that mine certainly didn’t have, the lights and other electrical devices in the house could operate on the sound of my voice, and the high ceilings lacked a single spiderweb or discolored spot. The mansion wasn’t new, but everything about it felt pristine, untouchable.
Now, I could cross my legs when I sat on the sofa without grimacing at the idea of possibly leaving a mark on the cushions. I could make food in the kitchen without cleaning it from top to bottom when I finished. I could slide in between the sheets of the guest room at night without feeling stiff as a board in the unfamiliar, massive bedroom with its looming furnishings. It had taken me a while to find some level of comfort here, but today I was ready to finish this house and dog sitting gig and go home.
Almost, anyway. My house wasn’t exactly a safe haven right now.
I didn’t have time to think about that at the moment, though. Clearly, Chauncey wasn’t willing to just settle down on his own. The pup needed more playtime, and it was part of my job to give it to him. Grabbing his favorite toy – a red and orange lizard with the words “Ruff, Tuff and Tumble” stitched on the side – I clicked my tongue at Chauncey, who was sniffing inside the elegant fireplace, exploring.
“Chauncey!” I interjected some excitement into my voice; Chauncey was genuinely the cutest dog ever. “Come here! Want to play? Huh?” A wave of the lizard brought him running over, and he seized the front half of the toy.
I could have held onto the lizard forever, even with Chauncey tugging at it for all he was worth, but I let him have it a few times. He would shake it back and forth, happily panting, then come back to me for another round. I obliged him until we both grew tired. “Good enough?” I asked him, standing up to get us both some water.
Chauncey lapped happily away, then followed me out onto the second-floor, enclosed porch. I sat on one of the comfortable deck chairs, holding a notebook and a pen, and Chauncey plopped down at my feet with a happy sigh.
I might actually miss this dog. Maybe I should get one of my own…but no. Getting a dog had crossed my mind once or twice before, but it wasn’t a good idea. Bree, my little girl, was only two-and-a-half years old, the perfect age to be bowled over by an overexcited dog. Besides, I barely had time for work and Bree. I didn’t need to add a dog to the mix.
And it would cost more money.I had to remind myself of the biggest issue I had and the reason I was here in this mansion right now – money. I didn’t need another drain on my bank account, not right now. Not right after…
Just as I opened my book to try and pull my mind away from dark and nervous thoughts, my phone vibrated on the glass table beside me. Chauncey glanced up sleepily as I answered, leaning forward a little when I saw the caller ID. “Hey, Payton. Is something up with Bree?”
“No, of course not! She’s sleeping right now. I just called to chat.” My best friend sounded apologetic for worrying me.
“Sorry. I guess I’m still a little on edge. I’ve actually been having a really nice time here,” I told Payton, looking out the stretching windows to watch the surf lap at the sand below. “It’s pleasant, and quiet. Mostly.”
“Mostly? Did something happen?”
“Not really. The dog got out and bothered one of the neighbors. It wasn’t a big deal.” Well aware I was underselling the issue, I changed the subject. “So, how’s Bree?”
Payton spent a few minutes talking about my daughter and her own young son and how they loved to play together, creating exciting characters out of their toys and composing make-believe stories. I listened with a smile on my face, thrilled to hear my little girl was doing well in our break from living at home.
“So, how are things going?” Payton asked during a lull in the kid talk. “Have you heard anything from the police yet?”
“Not lately.” My foot moved just a little, reminding me that Chauncey would bark if anyone came to the house and the alarm system would notify me and the police if anyone dared to break in. “They said that vacationing kids probably slashed my car tires.”
“That makes sense,” Payton mused. “Kids that drink too much think destruction is fun.”
“I guess,” I said unhappily. “But I’m not so sure. Wouldn’t there have been some beer bottles around or something? And wouldn’t they have messed with more than just my tires? And why mess with a house like mine when there are so many mansions right there in Montauk? It seems like kids would be a lot more interested in those mansions than my dinky house.”
“It does seem kinda odd,” Payton agreed. For a moment, we sat together in silence, pondering.
“I just… I want my daughter to be safe, you know? I’m a little nervous about going home,” I admitted, thinking of the few days remaining here before I returned home and to my everyday job as a legal aide.
