All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich, I'm just playing.
.
.
.
Chapter 13: Ramon
.
.
.
"Ramon!"
Stephanie waves goodbye to Binkie as she heads my way. Looks like they just got back from another skip run; something that looks suspiciously like ice cream is smeared over the entire front of her t-shirt. She catches me looking and also glances down. She pulls the shirt away from her body, grimacing. "Skip decided to be difficult. Waste of good ice cream, if you ask me."
That pulls a smile from me; her love of desserts is legendary and throwing ice cream probably ranks high up on her list of unforgiveable offenses. I turn back to the SUV I'm unpacking from an install. The job was up in Princeton and involved multiple systems and alarms, necessitating me being onsite rather than just helping design it. Another bag of tools gets added to the cart I'm loading, and Steph grabs a box of CAT 6 cable and stacks it next to the bag.
Before she came to work at Rangeman, I hadn't seen Ms. Plum since Ranger called me in to help her break into a safe when her grandmother was in danger. I've been an adjacent party to some of the trouble she finds, but thankfully having to dress as a hot dog was the worst of it. Not like Tank, who was carted away with broken bones, or Hal, who's stupidity will live on in infamy (and in the video routinely played in the new hire orientation). She seems to be fitting in just fine, which is a relief. Ranger seems a little less… uptight and inflexible since she walked away from the cop. Of course, he could have been happy a long time ago if he'd have actually made a play for her years ago instead of watching and waiting. Whatever. We're here now, with everyone's limbs still attached and the building still standing.
"How've you been?"
I have to smile at her question. From what I understand, this is how the Bombshell fix-ups start out. "Doing fine, Miss Plum. How are you?"
"Stephanie. And fine."
I can tell I've thrown her off. Anyone else, I might have ignored them until they talked again but she's just so damn nice. "That's good. Is there something you wanted to ask me?"
Her eyes widen a fraction before she smiles. "I'd make a joke about my reputation preceding me, but…"
"It always has?"
She laughs. "Yeah, that. Anyway, I was at the pet store getting shavings and crunchies for Rex and ended up talking to a woman there buying some toys for her dog. And I thought of you."
"What kind of dog?"
Steph blinks a few times. "Pardon?"
"What kind of dog does she have?"
"A grey one?" When I don't say anything, she moves her hands around to try and describe it. "This big, maybe? Boxy body. Seemed friendly. Does the type of dog matter?"
It shouldn't, but it kind of does. I have medium sized dogs and if hers is a huge Irish Wolfhound or a tiny chihuahua terror, then things are over before they begin. I have a beagle and a Corgi, and Barkley, my beagle, is easily intimidated by other dogs. And now cats. Thanks, Tank. "Not so much the type, but the size and temperament. Gotta do what's best for my boys."
"Got it. I would say medium sized. As is the actual woman in question." She smirks as she says it and the way she's busting my balls, I'd say she's been hanging out with Lester a bit too often.
"So you thought of me just because she has a dog?"
Steph tilts her head. "Well, yes, but also because I noticed that you seem to have a type. And she fits the bill, plus she seemed really nice, smart, and normal."
"Normal?"
She blows out a raspberry. "Well, I mean, based on some of the reports that the guys bring back, that's a hard one to gauge and I don't always get it right, but Catalina seemed nice and normal." She starts to step back. "It's fine. It was just an idea."
I debate for all of five seconds. Life has been kind of boring lately. "Give me her number, I guess. It wouldn't hurt my feelings to spend some time with a nice, normal dog mom."
Steph beams, takes out her phone and starts tapping. A minute later, my phone pings. "Oh, and I showed her the picture I took when we were at Big Jim's meeting Kate. She said she hoped you'd call."
Pride and ego has me puffing up a bit as I finish loading the cart. Steph walks ahead and punches the button for the elevator. While we wait, I take another look at her. "So, tell me what happened with ice cream man."
.
.
.
The sun is shining and both Barkley and Roddy, my Corgi, are in good spirits. I called Catalina the same day Steph gave me her number and we ended up talking for almost two hours. She seemed to be everything Steph said she was. We agreed to meet at the dog park that is about halfway between our homes. My schedule varies, and her job as a transcriptionist allows her to mostly set her hours, so we're meeting on a weekday morning. As I hoped, the park isn't too crowded, which should help Barkley's anxiety.
Once we're safely inside the fence with the gate closed, I unclip their leashes. As is his usual, Roddy takes off to explore. Barkley stays close to me, more cautious. I'm a little early, wanting to let the pups settle. I've been leaning against one of the trees, enjoying the shade, when a gorgeous woman approaches the gate. Medium height, curvy, long brown hair. Yep, Steph was right, she's just my type.
After she closes the gate behind her, she looks around. Her eyes settle on me, and I'm graced with a little smile as she walks toward me. When she's close enough for me to take in her gorgeous hazel eyes, she offers a hand. "Catalina. Call me Cat."
I already know what's going to happen before it does. At the mention of cat, Barkley whimpers and hides behind my leg. He's always been skittish, but he's also still not over the fracas with Tank's cat at the vet a few months ago. I'm starting to wonder if he ever will be.
Her dog, a grey Staffordshire bull terrier, if I'm not mistaken, wags its tail and tries to move around my legs toward Barkley. Another whimper sounds from my boy and Catalina pulls on the leash to bring him back to her side.
"I'm so sorry! Drax would never hurt him, he's just really friendly."
"Drax, like Drax the Destroyer? From Guardians of the Galaxy?"
She shrugs. "He seemed like a Drax."
Taking in his stocky body, grey fur, and boxy face, I can see where she'd get that. Right now, his tongue is hanging out on one side of his mouth, and I'd swear he has a half grin on his face. He does seem pretty friendly, and Barkley eventually leaves the safety of his spot behind me to check out Drax. They sniff each other a bit before Catalina slowly leans down and unhooks the leash. We watch as the two slowly wander off toward the water fountain in the middle of the park. A quick glance shows that Roddy is running along the fence with a Dalmatian that is frequently here the same time as us. His owner gives me a thumbs up from the bench he's sitting on, and I relax a little.
"Sorry about that."
"Do you even know what you're apologizing for?"
She shrugs. "Not really, but whatever it is, I upset your little one."
"That's Barkley." She smirks at the name. "He's always been a little anxious, but several months ago we were at the vet at the same time as one of my bosses and Barkley got a little too close to one of his cats. That resulted in the scar you can see on Barkley's snout, some skittishness, and a fear of all things cats. Apparently even just hearing the word."
Her eyes are sympathetic. "Makes sense. Cats are little assholes." She offers her hand again. "How about we try this again. Catalina, call me Lina."
"You don't need to—"
She shrugs and cuts me off. "It's fine. Between family, friends, and work, I go by so many names it's a surprise I don't have multiple personality disorder."
That makes me laugh, making her smile again. Steph was right, she is nice, and I find myself a little more interested. We watch as all three dogs meander and explore the park, ending up as a small pack when Roddy joins back up with Barkely and sniffs out the new guy. Conversation flows and we go through the usual getting to know you questions. She's lived in Trenton her entire life, moving from foster home to foster home as a teen until she aged out of the system. Not a great student, something we have in common, but not a troublemaker like me.
She kind of fell into the transcriptionist job by accident, but since it didn't require any sort of degree, she decided to make a go of it. She worked a second job until she had a steady stream of regular clients and a cushion in the bank. It's a work ethic I can admire and a similar story to how I ended up at Rangeman. I was courted by the gang in the neighborhood, specifically because of the skills honed working at my grandfather's locksmith company after school. Knowing I didn't want to head down that dead end road, I walked down to the recruiters office and shipped out to boot camp two weeks after graduation. I was back at Pop's place after getting out of the Army when Ranger approached me with a job offer. I could do without the patrols and bodyguarding, but picking locks, cracking safes, and designing systems suits me just fine.
The boys play for an hour before Roddy comes up and sploots at my feet. Lina looks down, taking in his flat on his belly with his legs stretched out behind him. Her lips quick up in a smile before she slowly squats down to rub under his chin. Not wanting to be left out, Drax lumbers up and uses his head to bump my hand, demanding some love. Barkley approaches much more slowly. Lina sits down on the ground, continuing to pet Roddy with her right hand. She holds her left hand out toward Barkley, who sniffs it for a long time before coming close enough for her to scratch behind his ear. Gratified that he seems comfortable with her, I sit down next to her. We stay like that for another half an hour, enjoying the shade and the quiet conversation. Neither of us say anything when Barley climbs into her lap and rests his head on her knee. Looks like she's earned his approval.
She smiles at me. "I was just going to say that I promised Drax a Puppaccino if he behaved himself, but now I'm not sure I can move!"
Drax's head snaps up and I swear he's smiling. Both my boys also love the cup of whipped cream that Starbucks offers pups, so I figure they'd be onboard with that plan. "I could go for a cold drink myself, and they never turn down treats. Want to head over? There's a shop about 6 blocks east of here."
She debates, but only for a minute. "Sure. We walking or driving?"
I look at the dogs. "Probably drive. They look a little droopy from the heat."
Lina nods and gracefully gets up, still holding Barkley. He looks like he's perfectly content to stay in her arms. I might be a little jealous. We form a little parade on the way to the small parking lot attached to the park. She nods her head toward a small 4 door truck. "I was going to offer to drive, but I'm not sure I want to put this guy down."
Barkley nuzzles up under her neck. I wouldn't mind doing the same. Other than the initial handshake, there hasn't been physical contact, which is a shame. With that thought, I place my hand at the small of her back, gratified by the small intake of breath I hear. "How about we take mine, then."
With another smile, she lets me lead her and our pups over to my car. This date is a complete 180 from the mess with Astrid and her mother, and I'm thankful as fuck. I'm no prude, but I like to get to know a woman before I take her to bed. Adding in someone else, let alone her mom? Just no.
Once Lina and the pups are settled, I get behind the wheel. As I'm backing out, I realize I wouldn't mind if this became a regular thing. The drive to Starbucks is short but filled with easy back and forth. Still holding Barkley, Lina laughs when both Roddy and Drax climb over me to hang their head out the window as we move through the drive-thru. The barista laughs at their antics before handing over our iced drinks and a tray with three Puppaccinos, commenting, "Cute family!" Lina blushes but says nothing. I find a quiet side street to pull over before handing Barkley's cup over to Lina. My boy is smitten, and I can't blame him. When I go to grab the other two, I find Drax and Roddy with their heads wedged between the seats, snouts in their cups. I pull out my phone and snap pics of all three dogs, happy with how the day is going.
Treats finished, the two in the backseat flop down on the seat (or sploots, in Roddy's case). Barkley still hasn't moved but is now gently wagging his tail as Lina tenderly rubs his ears. I'm a little jealous of the attention, until she reaches over and rests her left hand on my arm while we talk about the Eagle's chances this year. It's coming up on lunch, and she might have plans, but I'm not ready for this date to be over. I like her, and I want the chance to get to know her more. Taking a chance, I ask, "You wanna grab some lunch?"
"I can do lunch."
No hesitation. Nice. Yeah, this needs to become a regular thing.
