Crazy People: The Crazy for You Stories Read Online Free PDF Page B

puppies come home.”
    Zoë felt annoyed at the thought of Ben stretched out with Jeannette. Jeannette? “Who’s Jeannette?”
    “My wife,” Ben said. “Who did you think it was, the babysitter?”
    “I thought her name was Julie something,” Zoë said. “What puppies?”
    “The kids like
101 Dalmatians
—“ Ben began.
    “I
love
that movie.” Zoë kicked her foot in the water again as she remembered, envy sweeping over her. “The cartoon one. That’s a
wonderful
movie.”
    “Well, it’s not
Citizen Kane
,” Ben said. “But I do admit to feeling a real bond with Lucky. Now there’s a dog—“
    “Not Lucky,” Zoë said. “Roly. Roly is the best.”
    “Women.” Ben shook his head. “Lucky is obviously—“
    “Why weren’t there any little girl puppies?” Zoë said. “I never thought of that.”
    “Roly was a girl,” Ben said. “Whence the term, puppy fat.”
    “Sexist,” Zoë said.
    “Jeannette is not a feminist,” Ben said. “She has nothing to prove.” He considered the distance for a moment and then added, “She also has no puppy fat.”
    “Sylphlike, is she? How nice for her,” Zoë said, and then relented. “Ignore me. I’m having a bad day. You’re a lucky man.”
    “Yeah, that’s me.” He seemed depressed suddenly. “Tell me about you and Nick.”
    “Oh, we’re like you and Jeannette,” Zoë said. “Sometimes we put the kids to bed and lie in the hammock together and look up at the stars.” She pictured it all, and it was lovely except her rogue imagination put Ben in the hammock and that depressed her. He was married. He had no business in her hammock.
    “A hammock?” Ben looked annoyed. “The two of you in one hammock? Nick must be a real lightweight.”
    “Nick played fullback in high school,” Zoë said, telling the complete truth for the first time that afternoon. “He’s an ex-Marine.”
    “Better reinforce that hammock,” Ben said. “Those guys run to lard in later years.”
    “Thank you,” Zoë said. “You may want to feed Jeanette up a little now; those skinny women look like hell when they age.”
    “I’ll pass that on.” Ben cocked an eyebrow at her. “Why are we fighting?”
    “I don’t know,” Zoë said, and then she looked at him and thought,
because I don’t want you to be married and watching videos with Jeannette, I want you in a hammock with me
. The thought was ridiculous, born of biology, which was, God knew, nothing to base a decision on.
    “I have to go,” she said, standing up.
    “Why?” Ben said.
    “I have a meeting.”
    He stood up and looked across the fountain to her. “Tell Bianca I said good luck.”
    “Same to Harold.” Zoë took a step forward and held out her hand, and he met her half-way, his hand warm in hers, and they stood for a moment, calf-deep in green fountain water, while the sounds of the traffic came muffled through the buildings across from them. Zoë thought,
I don’t know a damn thing about him, and he’s married, and I’ll never see him again
, but her hand refused to let go of his.
    “We could forget the meetings and get a cup of coffee,” Ben said, and Zoë dropped his hand.
    “Can’t,” she said and backed away from him, disappointed that he was the kind of married guy who would ask strange women to coffee and even more disappointed that she wasn’t going to go. She turned and waded to the edge of the fountain to climb self-consciously over the edge, and when she turned back, he was gone.
    * * *
    Fifteen minutes later, Zoë sat down at the conference table, turned to the man at her right, and froze. It was Harold’s father.
    “Zoë, this is your client contact, Ben O’Donnell,” her boss said, introducing them. “Ben, Zoë McKenzie.”
    “Hi,” Zoë said faintly and turned away to listen to her boss’s description of their project, only to leap a foot off her seat when Ben nudged her arm.
    She looked down to see a folded paper in front of her. She slid it into her lap and