She gives me a knowing look as a loud chorus of whistles, chirps, and the clicking of nails on concrete can be heard when a few of the otters come running in through the doggie door that leads from their outdoor habitat and into this building connected to it.
“Saw what?” I just know I’m going to regret entertaining this line of questioning.
“The sparkle,” Nanci says with an easy shrug as she moves toward my desk and grabs a handful of treats out of the container I keep next to my computer.
“I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”
I watch Nanci walk back over to the dutch door in my office, lean over the top opening, and hand out treats to whichever otter is currently screaming his or her head off on the other side. A door that is cut in half horizontally is a must when your office can be overrun at any time by otters—otherwise known as ferrets on crack—but you still want to be able to look out and check on them when you’re doing paperwork.
“The sparkle in your eyes, you big dummy,” Nanci says as she turns to face me, brushing her hands together to get the treat crumbs off of them. “I see that sparkle every once in a while when you’re with the otters, and I definitely saw it when you looked at Harley earlier.”
I narrow my eyes at her, but it doesn’t have the same effect as it does with the other employees here. When they just go running away if I look at them in annoyance, Nanci takes that as a green light to be even more meddlesome.
“Nice hair,” Nanci says in a low, deep voice, trying to impersonate me again but making me sound like a big idiot. “Looks good on you. I think you’re really pretty, and I’d like to court you, milady.”
“That is not at all what I said or sound like,” I complain. “Also, it’s not the 1800s. People don’t court.”
“Well, they should. And you should have flirted with her more. First pretty girl I’ve seen you show any kind of interest in since you’ve been back here, or in years for that matter, and you were just boring. I could see it in your eyes you wanted to say something cute and charming, but you held yourself back.”
Actually, what I wanted to say was neither cute nor charming, and it probably would have made Harley kick me in the balls while I was still handcuffed.
“Nice hair. I’d rather see it spread out on my pillow in the morning.”
Why in the hell my knee-jerk response to hearing Harley’s voice was to suddenly turn back into the old Dax is beyond me. I just know there was something about her that made me want to annoy the hell out of her, just to see her roll those beautiful blue eyes at me. And I screwed it up by being my typical, grumpy self and so short and clipped with her that all I saw on her face was pure fucking confusion. Although the lumberjack beard, extra thirty pounds of muscle, body covered in tattoos, and lack of a recent haircut or expensive hair products was probably just as jarring for her.
“Look, I know you still have a lot of things to work out with your father, and I know you’re still holding on to a lot of anger. But you’re living your dream because of him, and it’s time for you to be happy in other parts of your life as well,” Nanci reminds me.
“Oh, you mean the dream I stopped talking about when I was a teenager, because he called me a pussy and told me to man the fuck up and do something he could actually respect with my life?” I ask with a laugh, minus any traces of humor.
I stopped talking about it, except for that one night at McCallahan’s….
“It doesn’t matter how you got here. You’re here now. As much as you want to deny it, you are exactly like your father in one important way—I always saw something good in him, just like I’ve always seen it in you.”
“Good?” I mock with a snort.
“You can call it guilt all you want, but this is a good thing he did here, and he did it for you. Anonymously, so you could be free to be who you want, without the weight of him on your shoulders. Quit your bitching and start appreciating what you have instead of what you’ve lost,” Nanci finishes her lecture, holding her hand out to me. “Now, give me your phone. I left mine back up at the farmhouse, and I need to check on something.”
With a sigh, knowing I’m defeated for now, I pull my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans and drop it down into her hand. Quickly looking at something she must have written on her palm, she starts typing away on my phone while she continues talking.
“I know you’re self-conscious about all your scars now, but you covered them up beautifully with all sorts of pretty artwork that I think is a shame to keep hidden. I’ve heard the ladies really like tatted-up hunks these days.” Nanci smiles as she continues typing on my phone, making me roll my eyes even though she’s not looking at me. “You’ve been out of the game for too long, but don’t worry. I’m here to help.”
“What did you do? In case you’ve forgotten, we have two missing otters I need to worry about right now,” I remind her, pushing away from my desk and standing up when she hands my phone back to me.
“Don’t insult me. I’m killing two birds with one giant boulder!” Nanci announces happily before her smile quickly falls. “That was a tad darker than I intended, but you catch my drift. You’ll be happy to know I left out a bunch of information about Lincoln and Chris when I was talking to her earlier, so you two will have a lot to discuss in an hour on your date-slash-crime-stopping-meeting. Emphasis on the date part, please and thank you.”
Nanci gives me a big smile as I look down at the text message she just sent, realizing what she had written on her palm when I carelessly handed over my phone was Harley’s phone number.
“Oh, dear God,” I mutter, seeing not only what Nanci has typed to her from me, but the little fucking typing bubbles indicating that Harley is presently drafting her response.
“What’s the problem? I heard you call her sweetheart outside earlier, and you also said something about cinnamon. So, I tied it all together and added a little something extra. It’s cute, what I typed, right?”
I watch as the little typing bubbles show up, disappear, show up, disappear, and wonder if it’s because Harley has to keep stopping to use the thesaurus so she can find every synonym there is for the word douchebag.
I don’t think this is going to end well for me. If Claws and Effect is my only hope of finding Lincoln and Chris, I should probably prepare myself to never see them again.
While Nanci chatters away, still giving me tips about the dating world that I’m tuning out, I wait a few seconds before looking down at my phone again.
My worry that Harley would refuse to work with me and I’d be fucked and on my own finding Chris and Lincoln is instantly replaced with something I haven’t truly felt in a long time, except when I’m with the otters: Amusement. And maybe even a little spark of happiness. For the first time in a really long time, I try not to keep the old Dax buried so deep as I take up where Nanci left off.
Dax: Your place or mine in an hour, sweetheart? I’ll bring the cinnamon and otter information. You bring your smile.
Harley: Listen here, dick tits, are you on drugs or something? I’ve got a serious business to run, and if I’m going to find your otters, I’m not dealing with your meth mood swings.