Tina Wainscott - The Best Of Me

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“There are so many creatures here.”

“Haven’t you seen them yet?”

She glanced to her left, finding him right beside her. “Just a cursory glance. I wanted to look at the numbers first.”

“Of course.” He glanced back at the desk. “Did you inherit a moneymaker or a money pit?”

She turned to face him, finding him still too close to her personal zone. “I don’t care about the money aspect. I just need to figure out what I’m going to do with this place.”

“Surely not move here to run it, not the advertising princess.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I am not an advertising princess.”

He scanned her styled hair, gold-plated barrette, and continued slowly, agonizingly down the rest of her body. “Look like one to me.” Despite his words, his eyes gave away some appreciation of what he saw.

The man was infuriating, but she tried her best to hold her mouth firm and not show him the effect his appraisal was having on her. She locked her knees and stood straighter. “Is there some reason you’ve chosen to pick on me? I mean, am I lucky, or are you holding my father’s treatment of Liberty against me?”

“Neither.”

“Okay, then for some reason you think I’ve, what, set my sights on you? That I’m attracted to you in some bizarre way, and you want to anger me so I’ll change my mind?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. Leaning closer, he said, “Maybe I just enjoy getting your ire up.” His hand slid past her and snatched a file from the drawer. “I’ll return this when I’m done.”

“Keep it!” she shouted after his glistening, retreating back.

Ooh, he was a wicked man.

LATER IN THE DAY, she took a cab into the shopping district to find appropriate attire. She felt out of place wearing tailored clothing among a population dressed for fun. Unfortunately, she was out of practice for fun.

Had she really thought that?

She was darn well going to get back into it, then. She bought several outfits, changing into white shorts and a flowery shirt before returning to the park.

The sight of Chris’s moped made her smile and wince at the same time. He probably didn’t even own a car, yet he could make fun of the car her friends, employees and most importantly, her ex, drooled over. What did the man know about being happy, anyway? The Great Green Lie, indeed.

She was surprised to find Chris absent from Liberty’s pool, more surprised at feeling disappointed. Her leather sandals quietly took her over where Liberty swam in circles beneath the surface. She crouched down and watched him, pleased when he lifted his head out of the water to look at her. What secrets of the universe did he hold? Looking into that horseshoe-shaped pupil, she believed he knew them all.

“Hi there, fellow,” she said, returning his grin.

She glanced around to see if Chris had left the bucket. “Sorry, guy, no fish to give you. I’m sure the creep will give you something soon.”

She squeezed her eyes shut when she heard the creep walk up behind her. Not only had they gotten off on the wrong foot, they were walking a mile on it. Oh, but he was a gentleman as always. No snide remark from him, no rubbing in her tactless remark.

He simply threw a fish in her lap.

She screamed as the slimy, headless thing landed on her, inadvertently batting it into the water where Liberty scooped it up. She jumped to her feet and faced Chris.

“You, you….”

“Creep?” he supplied with a lifted eyebrow.

“Yes!” She wiped at her new clothes, hoping they didn’t smell of fish. “And a few other words I’m too much of a lady to use.” No other man, even her ex, ruffled her the way Chris did.

He shrugged with one shoulder. “Sounded like you wanted to feed him, so I obliged. Shucks, I thought women liked chivalry.”

She couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped. “Chivalry? I’m surprised you even know the word. How many women do you know that like fish thrown at them? Tell me that, hmm?” She turned back to the dolphin, her hands still clenched at her sides. “And what is it around here with people sneaking up on me?”

Chris sat down at the edge of the pool, and Liberty seemed to know the bucket had arrived. He bobbed his head and made whistling, clicking noises. Chris lifted up his hand, and Liberty met his palm with a touch of his nose. Something tightened in Lucy’s stomach at that simple act of trust.

“Aw, that is so sweet, touching his nose to your hand.”

He broke the moment by pointing out, “That’s not his nose. His nose is here.” He gestured to Liberty’s blowhole. “That’s where he breathes. He touched my hand with his snout.”

“I’m just learning more and more each day.” Despite the teacher, she did want to know more about Liberty.

“I’d ask if you wanted to feed him, but I know the advertising princess wouldn’t want to touch a dead fish.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Give me the stupid fish.” Why was it so important to prove him wrong? “And this time not in my lap, if you don’t mind.”

“Come to think of it, I didn’t get very high scores in chivalry class.” He handed her a Spanish mackerel, trying not to laugh as she took it with the very tips of her polished fingernails. He was goading her and enjoying the heck out of it. What he wasn’t sure of was exactly why he was doing either.

“Hold it beneath the water,” he said. “I’m trying to get him to eat underwater from now on, like wild dolphins do.”

She dangled the fish by where the tail used to be, and Liberty lifted himself up out of the water. “No, no, you have to let me put it in the water,” she said earnestly, all traces of her ire gone. She dunked the fish in the water, and Liberty took hold of it. Her delight caught him in the gut, a look of pure amazement on a heart-shaped face that was prettier than she thought. Not Marilyn Monroe pretty, but pretty enough.

Liberty came out of the water and tossed the fish to position it before swallowing it. Lucy giggled, then turned to him. “Can I feed him again?”

He should have told her to scram. He had work to do and he wanted as little human contact with Liberty as possible. But before he could form those words, his hand was already passing her another mackerel.

“Why don’t you just free him now?” she asked.

“Because he’s not used to fending for himself.” He threw another fish to the far side of the pool. “He’s been humanized. Everything a dolphin is comes from his hierarchy within the pod.”

“You mentioned a pod before. What exactly is it?”

“The school or any group of dolphins. Together, they can protect each other and hunt for food. Liberty here is a nobody. He probably doesn’t even know he’s a dolphin anymore.”

She watched Liberty with such compassion, he was actually touched for a moment. Then he remembered who she was, what she represented.

“I have to teach him to become a dolphin, to catch live fish, and to swim in a straight line again. It’s not only Liberty’s health I want to restore, it’s his spirit.”

She looked at him with those deep brown eyes. “I think that’s…wonderful.”

He looked away, uncomfortable with that gaze. “It’s just what I do.”

“Do you get paid for doing this?”

He laughed, because that sounded more like the advertising princess. “Untraining dolphins is not on the list of professions a woman looks for in a future husband. In other words,” he said before she could get too huffy, “no, I don’t get paid. Someone usually contacts me about a dolphin in trouble, and I ask them to get someone to sponsor me to come out and investigate. I get proof and go to the authorities for permission to free the dolphin. People send in donations, and when I’m home, I work odd jobs to get by.”