At No Time || Bruno Mars

41

When Peter awakened the next morning, it was nearly noon, and Christine was gone—just as he liked it. He knew the rest of his week would be heavy with meetings and deadlines, so the extra hours of sleep and solitude Christine had been able to give him he was thankful for.

He sat up and stretched, having not had such a fitful sleep in a long time, and took the small amount of stairs to the kitchen to fix himself a cup of coffee. He was surprised when he saw that Christine had already made a pot, a green sticky note on its exterior saying - I only saved you some because the sex was good :*

Peter chuckled at her comicality before pouring himself some. He was on his way to the living room, ready to open his laptop and login to the barrage of e-mails he had to answer to before the work-week began, but stopped when a rancid smell invaded his nose. Through the years, he had become a stickler when it came to a clean house, and knew the foulness could have not been by his own doing. He turned his head to the left, the smell strongest there, and almost dropped his cup of coffee when his eyes landed on the animal crate.

"Shit!" he cursed and set down his mug before hurrying over to Jewel, who began barking when he kneeled before her. She licked at him through the skinny bars and scampered into his arms when she was let out. Peter realized the culprit of the rank smell was that Jewel had relieved herself inside the cage. He had no one but himself to blame—she was too young to be completely housebroken and he had been so busy sleeping he had forgotten the puppy was there in the first place.

He was giving his adoption second thoughts as he went outside to clean the crate, Jewel's leash wrapped tightly around one of the sidewalk's tree trunks. He had no idea how to raise or train a pet. Hell, most of the fish he owned as a kid ended up being flushed down the toilet because he had forgotten to feed them. He could ask Roger, who had owned several dogs growing up, but he knew his friend would never let him live down Jewel's accident. He could hire a professional and a dog sitter, but he did not know how well Jewel would react to being in another person's care for too long.

"You're not gonna make this easy, are you?" He asked the small pup, who looked up at him with a silly grin before running around his legs.

" . . . The branch isn't looking to borrow any money, Seymour. The cash flow is supposed to come from the specific percentages within the contracts. If that becomes a problem, I'll have to look into it when in I get in the office tomorrow."

"Workin' hard or hardly workin'?" Bill chuckled as he watched Peter enter Lenny's, a look of somber professionalism peaking on the younger man's face.

Peter ended the call and stuffed his phone into his pocket, genuinely smiling at Bill for his face was a pleasant one to see after hours of business e-mails and endless phone calls. "If it wasn't for your food, Bill, I would've gone crazy by now."

Bill playfully held his hand to his chest, "I'm flattered, kid. What can I get for ya?"

"The usual."

"Coming right up."

Bill left to put the order in, leaving Peter to his lonesome for the moment. His eyes scanned the small restaurant, and he was proud to admit that he could finally sit within the facility without being reminded of Trystan.

For a long time, he had avoided the eatery because of the memories that were there—the moment he first introduced her to the place and they had talked for hours on hours, or how she ordered French toast even though she preferred waffles because she knew how much he liked them, or how creamy and sugary she loved her coffee.

When he did manage to step through the front doors after her departure from his life, he was confronted by a friendly Bill, who asked, "Where's Miss New Yorker? Haven't seen her in a while."