If you would like to be an early reader of
The Billionaire and His Misbehaving Beagle, please message me at larry.kristy.tate@gmail.com
I'm considering this model, but I'd replace the Spaniel with this fat beagle.
The
muffled conversation halted and footsteps padded across the floor. Lincoln, his
grandfather’s attorney opened the door. “Ah, Wes, my boy,” Lincoln extended his
hand, “we were just talking about you.”
Wes
blinked at the attorney and shook his pale, limp hand. The man never seemed to
age. He’d been a senior citizen when Wes had first met him in high school when
Wes’s dad had died and now nearly fifteen years later, he looked exactly the
same: white hair, bushy eyebrows, red paisley bow-tie. Maybe he’d been born a
senior citizen. According to his mom, people never change.
Or
maybe Lincoln was a vampire.
In
which case, Wes should leave.
But
out of familial concern tinged with the promise of a billion-dollar
inheritance, Wes followed the attorney into the room where he found his
grandfather sitting in a wingback chair before a picture window overlooking the
ocean. Boats bobbed on the horizon. And although Wes wished he could likewise
sail away into the sunset, he took the chair across from his grandfather and
folded his arms and legs.
His
grandfather eyed him through the reading glasses perched on his sharp nose. Wes
knew that he took after his dad’s side of the family, making Wes wonder if
looking at his grandfather was like peering into a reverse mirror, giving him a
glimpse of the man he’d one day become. A chill that had nothing to do with the
air-conditioning passed over him.
Today,
his grandfather wore a Japanese silk robe over a pair of black pajamas. Wes
couldn’t remember ever seeing his grandfather in anything other than a suit.
The casual apparel sent a warning tingle down Wes’s spine.
“You’re
probably wondering why I asked you to come.” Even with leather slippers on his
feet, his grandfather still managed to be formal and stuffy.
“Lincoln
told me you weren’t feeling well. I’m sorry to—”
Grandfather
cut him off and shot Lincoln an annoyed glance. “I’m fine!”
“Good.
That’s good…” Wes refused to look at his watch, even though a part of him
itched to time the encounter so he could mentally prepare himself for the next
one. This was a trick his dad had taught him. “You can do anything for ten
minutes,” Dad had said.
So
not true…You can’t hold your breath for ten minutes, as his father had proved
when his car plunged off that bridge on the Northern Coast. Strangely, both
Wes’s mom and his grandfather blamed each other for Wes’s dad’s death even
though neither of them had been anywhere near Big Sur.
“My
recent…episode.”
Heart attack,
Wes wanted to correct him, but he bit his lip as his grandfather continued.
“As
given me pause.” The old man, clearly exhausted, leaned back in his chair and
dangled one had over the side of his chair and rested his fingers on the head
of Betty, the fat beagle who never left his grandfather’s side. “And made me
reflect on the heavier matters of life.”
He
studied Wes through his thick bifocals that distorted his eyes and reminded Wes
of the all-seeing bespectacled eyes in The Great Gatsby belonging to Doctor T.
J. Eckleburg that may or may not have been meant to represent God staring down
upon and judging American society as a moral wasteland…just like his
grandfather was judging him now.
“I
have a favor to ask.” His grandfather’s voice cracked with pain.
Wes
sat up. He’d never seen his grandfather emotional—even at his own son’s
funeral. And his grandfather had most certainly never asked for a favor
before—at least not from Wes.
“I
want you to look after Betty.” He spoke as if the words caused him great pain.
“What?”
“He’s
getting fat.”
Wes
gazed at the dog snoring beside his grandfather’s chair. Betty flicked one ear
as if he knew he was being discussed but couldn’t rouse himself to intercede.
Wes wished he would. He was certain that the dog’s opinion carried much more
weight than his own. And surely Betty wouldn’t/couldn’t think this…visit…please
let it be short-term…a good idea.
“What
do you know about beagles?” His grandfather steepled his fingers and gazed at
Wes.
Wes’s
thoughts scrambled. “They sniff out drugs at airports?”
“Yes.
They have a powerful sense of smell.”
If
that were true, Wes wondered how Betty, a fart factory, could stand being
around himself.
“But
there is so much more to them. Did you know beagles can be traced back to
Ancient Greece? And it’s thought that in the 11th century, William the
Conqueror brought the Talbot hound to Britain. The Talbot is the ancestor of
the modern-day beagle which can run prey to ground. They’re hunting dogs, meant
to run free and wild.” Grandfather cocked his head. “Men are not meant to run
free and wild. The animal-man is an enemy to God.”
What did that even mean?
Was he referring to the work of Zoologist
Desmond Morris who argued man was not a fallen angel, but a risen ape?
Grandfather
must have read his mind because he answered the unspoken question. “My greatest
wish is to see you settle down and shoulder responsibility. Be a Godly man! Get
a wife! Father children! Teach them to love and serve God.”
Huh.
Wes guessed that his grandfather hadn’t read Morris’s The Naked Ape. Which was
disappointing since he would have liked to talk about it with him.
“But
since I can’t force you to marry,” Grandfather continued, “I’m giving you my
dog.” He wagged his finger in front of Wes’s face. “You two need each other.”
“Huh…I
think Betty would disagree.”
“He
doesn’t have a choice!” Grandfather barked. “And neither do you! I’m going to Hacienda
Hot Springs. It’s a healing and recovery center. My doctors think it best. Betty
can’t come. They don’t allow pets.” His tone of voice told Wes that his
grandfather had tried to persuade the hospital otherwise. “This, of course, is
a short-term arrangement.”
“I
hope so,” Wes breathed out. “For Betty’s sake,” he tacked on. “I’m sure she’ll
miss you.”
“Are
you still living on that floating coffin?”
“The
Seabird, yes.”
“You’ll
move in here while I’m gone.”
Wes
glanced around at the lush penthouse filled with his grandfather’s antiques and
mementos. A giant stuffed swordfish hung above the dining room sideboard and a
moose head sat over the fireplace mantle. All these dead trophies spoke of
violence. Wes preferred living with books and live creatures…other than Betty
of course.
“Not
here, here.” Once again, Grandfather read his mind. “You can have your own
suite.”
Wes
let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to be surrounded by his grandfather’s things.
Already, he felt his youth slipping away after only the five…or was it ten…?
Minutes he had spent in his grandfather’s home.
“I
don’t need to tell you that if anything should happen to Betty while he’s in
your care, you will be immediately disinherited.”
“Huh,
what?” Wes tensed.
Grandfather
beckoned Lincoln who stepped forward and placed a briefcase on a side table,
clicked it open, and withdrew a sizeable legal document. “You must learn to be
a wise and capable steward.”
Wes
knew that he should be offended that his grandfather didn’t think he was
responsible enough to care for a dog, but since he shared his grandfather’s
doubts, he couldn’t muster any outrage. “I don’t know what to say,” Wes said.
“Just
say you’ll take care of my dog,” Grandfather said through clenched teeth.
“Of
course!” Wes eyed Betty. The beagle was so fat he could hardly waddle. How much
trouble could he be? And staying at the hotel would be okay. He could have room
service deliver his meals. Maybe this would be good—give him more time to
finish his screenplay about the Civil War.
“I’m
not asking you to oversee the hotels.”
Relief
whistled through Wes. After his grandfather’s return from his recovery center,
Wes would take that research trip to Gettysburg.
“At
least not yet.”
Images
of the Pennsylvania countryside vanished. “What? Aren’t there managers?” He
stumbled over his words and thoughts. “I mean, I don’t want to interfere…or jeopardize
anyone’s job.”
“While
I’m gone, you’re going to live here at the hotel and work at every position
starting with bellboy.”
“But
I did that for years before college!”
“And
if I remember correctly, you weren’t very good at it.”
“Look,
that thing with Mrs. Hendricks was not my fault. The judge threw out her case—”
“There
should never have been a whiff of scandal!”
A
vein throbbed in Grandfather’s neck.
“You’re
right,” Wes back-pedaled, eager to calm his grandfather. The last thing he
wanted was for his grandfather to die and make Wes in charge of…anything. “I
should have avoided her.”
“Wrong!”
Grandfather struggled to stand.
Wes
didn’t know what to say. He pleaded with his eyes for Lincoln to do something,
but Lincoln stood like a stiff sentinel.
Grandfather
collapsed back into his chair, defeated by his own weakness. “You’ll be a
bellboy, a valet, a waiter, a member of the housecleaning staff, a security
guard...”
“Wait,
while I’m doing all of this, what’s going to happen to Betty?”
“What
do you mean?”
“What’s
he going to do?”
His
grandfather clearly hadn’t thought of this. “He can stay in your room, but
you’ll need to make sure he’s well taken care of in your absence.”
“Of
course.”
“And
I don’t need to remind you that there are security cameras throughout the
hotel. I’ll be watching.”
“Right,”
Wes said, even though he secretly thought the entire situation was completely
wrong.
#
Letty wanted to be happy for her
sister, but as she helped her mom transport the wedding cake from the kitchen
to the idling Subaru, her anger burned just below the surface.
“Your dad feels terrible about
missing this.” Mom eased the cake into the gaping hatch-back, stood, and sent
Letty and watery smile.
Letty gave her mom a one-armed
sideways squeeze.
“He’s so proud of you girls.” Mom
briefly sagged against Letty, exposing her fatigue for a moment. “You should
visit him.”
“I know.” Letty sorted through her
standard excuses, but in the end, decided against sharing one. They were all
beginning to sound thin and weak—two adjectives that could also be used to
describe her mom. Mom had always been thin, but since Letty’s father’s
incarceration, her mom had dropped at least two dress sizes and now the mother
of the bride dress that had fit her two months ago hung on her like a deflated
balloon. Letty brushed her lips against her mom’s pale cheek and inhaled her
mom’s Chanel 5 perfume. “Come on. We can’t be late or Donald will kill us.”
“He’s a fussy little man.” Mom
slammed closed the Subaru hatchback and climbed in the driver’s seat.
Letty followed and clicked into her
seatbelt, careful not to smush her fluffy crinoline bridesmaid dress. “After
today, he’ll no longer be a part of our lives.”
Chet, Harper’s soon to be husband,
had hired the wedding planner and had stepped up with his parents’ credit cards
to pay for the enormous wedding. Letty, her mom, and Harper had tried to scale
back but many things had already been paid for and Chet’s parents “didn’t want
to be embarrassed (any further.)”
After today, Letty secretly hoped
that Chet’s parents would ease out of her life. She imagined only needing to
see them at the christening and maybe marriages of Harper and Chet’s unborn
children.
Mom rolled out of the driveway,
past the for sale sign on the front lawn, and through the gates of Cathedral
Glen. Minutes later, they were zooming down the Pacific Coast Highway, headed
for the Montlake Hotel.
“It’s silly to have a beachfront
hotel named after a lake,” Letty said.
“You know there are hundreds, if
not thousands, Montlake hotels.” Mom tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
“Besides, it’s not named after a lake, it’s a family name. I’m thinking of
applying there.”
Letty sat up. “And do what?”
“I don’t know. I have to do
something and it seems like a beautiful place to spend my days. Maybe I could
work in the kitchen? I really like helping out in Florence’s shop.”
“That’s craziness.”
“Is it any crazier than moving in
with Grandma in Mesa?”
Thinking about Mesa’s heat made
Letty shiver. Which just didn’t make sense. “You can move in with me. I need a
roommate now that Harper is moving out.”
“We’ve been over this,” Mom said,
her voice tight.
“I know, but we haven’t come to an
agreement.”
“We don’t have to make any
decisions until the house sells.” Which meant that Mom didn’t want to talk
about it anymore.
Letty blew out a frustrated breath
as they crawled along the crowded PCH. Minutes later, they pulled onto the
Mountlake property and followed a flagstone drive through the manicured lawns,
past the castle-like hotel to the curb where they could unload the cake.
Donald and his team of black-clothed
caterers rounded the hill. Backlit by the late afternoon sun, they reminded
Letty of a small band of warriors set to conquer the natives. She and her mom
were defenseless against their powers. With as few words as possible, they
handed over the cake. Letty made to follow them, but after a quick glance at
her mom battling tears, she slipped back into the car.
“It’ll all be over soon.” Letty
squeezed her mom’s knee. “We’re halfway done.” The wedding ceremony had been
lovely and there wasn’t any reason to suppose that the reception wouldn’t
follow suit.
“I’m sorry.” Mom dropped her chin.
“This is supposed to be a happy occasion.”
“And it is, for Harper.”
“But I have to face all those
people...”
“Your friends,” Letty reminded her
mom.
“That your father stole from.”
“Well, there is that.” Anger
flashed through Letty.
“It’s so embarrassing.”
“Mom, you did nothing wrong.”
“They don’t know that. I worked for
him. How could I not know he was embezzling?”
“Because he’s smart and he hid it
really well…for a very long time. Remember, it’s a good a thing he got caught.
Now, he can get the help he needs for his gambling. That’s what you taught me.”
Mom lifted her chin. “You’re
right.”
“No, you’re right. I’m just
parroting your words.”
“I do want him to get better.”
“Of course, you do. We all do.”
“Then he can come home and we can
live like normal people.”
Letty wasn’t so sure about that.
Her dad wasn’t like normal people. He never had been and most likely, never
would be.
#
After
Chet and Harper left to change into their traveling clothes and Letty thought
she couldn’t take one more minute of fake politeness, she slipped away.
The
reception had been held on a bluff overlooking the ocean. Now that the sun was
fading into a pink puddle on the horizon and strings of outdoor lights were
flickering on, Letty hoped to find a bench where she could slip out of her
awful shoes and enjoy the gathering dark.
She
wandered down the path until she spotted a bench overlooking the ocean. The sky
and sea had turned to the same color, making it impossible to tell where one
ended and the other began.
The
glooming, her grandmother’s word for twilight—that brief between time when the
sun had set but the moon had yet to rise. Her grandmother had a song about it.
Something about two lovers “lovely roamin' in the gloamin.”
“You
okay?” Claris’s voice surprised her and made Letty start.
She
jumped to her feet and turned to her best friend for a hug. “Kind of
mad…still.”
“I
get it.” Claris pulled away and swept a searching glance over Letty.
Letty
sank back onto the bench and pulled Claris down beside her. They were similar in
size but different in almost every other way. Letty had her dad’s dark hair and
eyes while Claris was a classic beach Barbie. In high school, they used to call
themselves the Oreo team.
“I
really hate these shoes.” Letty lifted her feet to show Claris the pink satin
strappy heels Harper had made her wear.
“They’re
not as bad as my dress.” Claris plucked at her skirt.
“No
one made you wear it.”
“I
know, but what with UCS’s tuition hike, I couldn’t ask my parents for one more
penny, and this dress was free.”
“Free?”
“Anything
left in Courtney’s closet is free game. Her rules, not mine.”
“Do
we need to get back? I don’t want to miss the send-off.”
“I
think we still have a minute.”
“Good.”
Letty wiggled her toes and followed Claris’s glance over her shoulder at the
Montlake monstrosity. The hotel’s lights shimmered in the fading light. Music
from the reception floated over the rise. Out on the water, a few boats bobbed
along the horizon. For most people, this was the stuff of fairytales.
True,
it was the only world she’d ever known, but her father’s fall from grace had
kicked her and her mom out of Orange County’s glitzy glow. Her mom would go to
Arizona. Harper and Chet were moving to New York. Only Letty would remain in
her tiny Irvine apartment. She loved nursing, but the pay barely covered her
rent. Now that Harper was moving out, she’d have to pick up another shift if
she wanted to buy groceries. She clenched her jaw to keep the tears at bay and
struggled to regain her anger to keep her from dissolving into tears. But the
sound of screaming roused her from her funk.
“What’s
that about?” Claris stammered.
Standing,
Letty tried to ignore her aching feet. When she realized the screaming and
mayhem seemed to be coming from the wedding reception, she took off running as
best she could in her high-heeled satin shoes. Claris jogged beside her down
the path, and over the bluff.
A
beagle stood on the table wolfing down the wedding cake while wedding guests
tried to fight their giggles and Donald and his team flapped their arms and
shouted expletives.
A
man in dripping wet swimming trunks and not much else dashed through the party,
knocking over chairs and bumping off guests as he scrambled toward the dog.
“Sorry! Sorry! Excuse me!” He lunged for the table and pulled the dog off the
table. A floral garland caught around the dog’s paws and soon the man and
beagle were tangled in the string of flowers. With his naked chest and garland,
the man looked like he could pose for a statue of a Greek god.
“Who
is that?” Claris breathed.
Letty
bit back cursing. “I don’t know, but he and that creature just ruined my
sister’s wedding.”
“You’re
right,” Claris whispered, “we should be outraged, but holy crow, he’s
beautiful.”
“And
I bet he knows it.” Letty marched over to the man, planted herself in front of
him, and let out all the anger she’d been shoring up for the past two months.
“Get that creature out of here!” she hissed.
“I’m
trying.” He juggled the dog who made another leap for the table. “That must be
some amazing cake.”
“Yeah.
My mom stayed up all night making it and now look at it! It’s dog chow.”
“No,
it’s gorgeous. At least that part is.” He waved at the untouched by dog-lips side
of the cake.
Tears
gathered in Letty’s eyes as she remembered all her mom’s hard work. But then
she heard laughter. Stunned, she turned to watch her mom dissolve into tears
and giggles and fall onto a nearby chair. Mom hiccoughed, spread her legs, grabbed
her belly, and laughed some more.
Was
she drunk? Oh please, don’t let her be
drunk. Letty didn’t think she could handle one more ounce of humiliation.
Many
of the guests followed Mom’s example. Giggles, guffaws, and laughter floated
around Letty. Even the man grinned, but his smile only fueled Letty’s rising
anger. She stepped in so that the toes of her satin shoes were perfectly
aligned with his bare toes and peered into his eyes and pushed his chest.
Obviously
stunned, he dropped the dog, stumbled back as if she’d zapped him, and stared
at Letty. The same electrical current that had passed between their brief
physical contact continued to sizzle. Did he feel it, too?
“Oh
no you don’t!” Claris sprang for the dog and caught him by the collar.
“Claris!
Your dress!” Letty called out.
Claris
sank to the grass, her legs splayed out in front of her, the dog with his
frosting smeared fur wriggled in her lap. “It’s okay. It’s only a Vera Wang.”
The
man unwrapped himself from the garland and grinned at Claris. “Here, give him
to me.” He glanced around. “I wonder what happened to his leash?”
A
college friend of Harpers came running up, holding the leash in her extended
hand like a banner. “I found it!”
A
man carrying a briefcase and wearing a bowtie appeared. “He must have slipped
out of it.”
The
man clipped the leash onto the dog’s collar. “Hey, it’s a chocolate cake. Do
you think it will make him sick?”
As
if to answer the question, the dog hunched over and vomited all over Letty’s
shoes.
“Oh
look, here comes Harper and Chet!” Mom pointed a wavering finger at the couple
emerging from the side of the hotel. “Nobody say anything to them about the
cake! Grab the sparklers!”
Claris
jumped to her feet to help Mom distribute the sparklers and matches while Letty
slipped off her shoes and stepped out of the vomit. She wrinkled her nose as
she picked up the dripping shoes and carried them to a trash can. She dropped
them in and tried to collect her thoughts. She wrapped her anger around her
like a protective cloak. It had momentarily slipped when she’d laid her hands
on that man’s naked chest, but she could muster it back.
The
man and dog trailed after her. “Again, I’m really sorry.”
“Yeah,
well, so am I.” She glanced over her shoulder at the line forming for her
sister’s send off. “This was supposed to be the happiest day of my sister’s
life and your dog just made it…disgusting.”
“Can
I make it up to you?”
“How?”
She waved her arm at the destroyed the table where the cake had turned into a
mountain of mush. The bulk of the flowers had been cast to the ground, but shredded
and torn petals and leaves scattered the once pristine white tablecloth like
dying corpses on a battlefield.
“I
don’t know…” he stammered. “Can I pay for a new cake?”
“Oh
yeah, good idea.” She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Because
we’ll need a new wedding cake tomorrow.”
“You
don’t need to be bitchy.”
She
planted her fists on her hips even though she longed to touch him again. As an
experiment. Just to see if that sizzle would return. “And you don’t need to be
here.”
He
bit his lips. “Right. I don’t.” And he stalked away while the dog limped after
him.
