Free The Pink Ghetto by Liz Ireland Page B

soliloquy. “ My dog?”
    “Of course. He’s a gift.”
    The dog was having a hard time balancing on my lap, so I put him on the ground. He proceeded to try to crawl up my leg. I had to admit he was awfully cute. His fur was short and bristly in appearance but soft to the touch, and his little face was like something you’d see in a Puppy Chow ad. The tips of his ears folded downward, giving him a look that was goofily rakish.
    “He’s a purebred Norfolk terrier,” Fleishman said. “He’s even got papers.”
    It was hard to believe something so small and silly looking had a pedigree. Also, pedigree was usually accompanied by a healthy price tag. Last I heard, Fleishman was supposed to be broke. “What did you do, rob a pet store?”
    Fleishman laughed. “I put him on American Express.”
    “Since when do you have one of those?”
    He looked offended. “I’ve been a proud member since ten AM this morning.”
    “You know AmEx makes you pay off in full at the end of the month, don’t you?”
    “Okay, so at the end of the month I’ll find some money.”
    Shame he couldn’t have found some when we were scrambling for the rent.
    He laughed. “Rebecca, will you lighten up? I charged the pizza, too—and you don’t mind that.”
    Speaking of pizza, I grabbed a piece and chewed as I stared at Maxwell. At the first whiff of food, he plopped down on his rump and started to wag his stubby little tale. His big brown eyes melted me. They could have melted the polar ice cap, what was left of it. “Hey Maxwell, you want some pizza?”
    “No—no pizza. I got some Science Diet puppy formula.”
    He said it with such paternal sternness, I drew back in surprise. “I can’t believe you got a dog. Dogs are a lot of work, you know. They’re a responsibility. They have to be fed regularly, and walked, and housetrained…”
    Not to mention, I started thinking about Ann and her Maltese. No life. Pathetic. Would that be me soon?
    “Yeah, but puppies are so cute,” Fleishman said. “How can you resist?”
    Maxwell was chewing on my shoestring. The truth was, I couldn’t resist. Outside of a goldfish, I hadn’t had a pet since I was a little kid. I had always wanted a dog.
    “I felt it was time,” Fleishman said. “We’re getting older, you know. Besides, won’t it be nice to have a warm body to come home to?”
    I glanced into Fleishman’s eyes and felt the pizza like a lump in my throat. I looked back down at Maxwell, who was still gazing at me adoringly. Or maybe it was just hungrily. It would be nice to have a warm body waiting for me, I supposed, even if it was canine. And as long as I kept food in my hand, I would always have his undivided attention. How many relationships could you say that about?
    “So what do you say…” Fleishman looked at me. “Can we keep him, ma?”
    I laughed. “Did you really think I could get rid of that? ”
    As if knowing his cue, Maxwell barked. Which reminded me. “Did you check this out with the landlord?”
    “It’s okay. I bribed the super when I got home.”
    “How did you do that?”
    “Cash advance.”
    I would have loved to lecture on the fact that he would regret being so financially reckless someday, but the fact was that he probably wouldn’t. Fleishman lived in a parallel universe where the chickens never came home to roost. Or when they did come home to roost, they ended up laying golden eggs.
    “So how was your day?” he asked. “I mean, up to now. I know you’re blissfully happy now.”
    “Half okay and half awful.” I told him about what had happened with Cassie after I talked to him on the phone. “I think she has it in for me, I really do. If you could have seen the look in her eye when she was sitting there with those tip sheets…”
    “Some people are just like that.”
    “Right.” And some people were just psychopaths. I was pretty sure I had put my finger on our office psycho, but I didn’t have the evidence. “Plus I have all this work