Free Your Wish Is My Command by Donna Kauffman Page A

she still hadn't come to any firm resolutions on how to handle his appearance in their lives. “No. I never got the chance to talk with him.” A seniors group had chosen the bookstore as a refuge from the storm right after Jamie had called the vet. She'd been tied up answering questions and guiding everyone through the stacks when Sebastien had slipped out to pick up some dog food. He'd apparently met Jack en route to the shop and sent the food back with him.
    “What else is there to talk about with him? Have you called any of the hospitals?”
    Jamie nodded. “I figured I had to at least do that for our own protection.”
    Ree rubbed her hands. “Oh, I have to hear this. What in the world did you ask them?”
    Jamie gave her a look. “I just asked if they'd released anyone lately, either voluntarily or involuntarily, who was delusional.”
    “And?”
    “Nada. Zip. Zero.”
    Ree sat down on one of the barstools. “So what next?”
    Jamie shrugged. “What else can we do? Call the cops and claim harassment? I don't really want to go that far.”
    Ree smiled knowingly, humming as she went back to her napkin piles.
    “Don't you hum at me like that.”
    “Why, sugar, whatever do you mean? I'm merely enjoying my day's work.”
    Jamie muttered under her breath, then turned to the door when the bell announced another customer. The gentleman that came in was average height, with sandy brown hair and smiling brown eyes to match.He was dressed in jeans, a pale blue cotton shirt, and a lightweight blazer. No tie.
    Well, Jamie thought, at least he'd made some deference to the scorching heat. He had to be dying in that jacket.
    “Good morning.” His smile was as infectious as his understated British accent.
    Jamie found herself smiling back. “Good morn-ing, yourself. Is there anything I can do to help you?”
    “As a matter of fact, I think you already have. Apparently you've taken over the dog-sitting duties my cousin abysmally failed at.”
    Jamie's smile fell. “You're Baxter's owner?” This guy didn't come close to the Snidely Whiplash type she'd envisioned. He seemed … nice.
    “Yes.” His own smile faded and he looked anxious. “He's okay, isn't he?”
    “He's fine. More than fine,” Jamie answered. No thanks to you, she added silently.
    The man sighed in relief. “Good. I'm already not speaking to Jane. I'd hate to have to put a contract out on her for killing my dog.”
    Ree gasped. Jamie's mouth dropped open.
    “I'm kidding,” he reassured them, then, with a straight face, added, “I wouldn't have the first clue who to call to put out a hit on anyone.” He shrugged. “Guess I'd have had to kill her myself. Such a bother.”
    Jamie and Ree just stared at him. Then Jamie turned to Ree and said, “What, do I have a sign on me somewhere that says,
Send meyour tired,your wretched, your delusional?
”
    Ree laughed. “You always have had a way with men.”
    “I really am terribly sorry,” he offered, sounding sincerely contrite in a way only a Brit could. “I have a somewhat unconventional sense of humor. My familynever understands it either. We writers tend to get weird from spending long hours alone talking to ourselves.” He stepped forward and stuck out his hand. “Name is Bennett Graham. I write young-adult books. Possibly you've heard of me.”
    Jamie had heard of him. He wrote a popular, offbeat fantasy series for the young teen set. But that didn't automatically make him an okay guy. She very tentatively shook his hand.
    He turned to Ree Ann and gave a small salute. The fact that he didn't do a double take or fall all over himself once he'd actually looked at Ree raised him a tiny notch in Jamie's estimation. A very tiny notch.
    “That's why I need my dog back,” he went on. “People are much more tolerant of one talking to one's dog than they are of talking to oneself.”
    “As long as the dog doesn't answer.”
    All three of them turned at the sound of Marta's voice.
    Bennett laughed.