Boomer's Bucket List Read online

  Of course, it didn’t help that he was starting to obsess about the woman at the speedway. Or rather, the mystery of what she’d been doing there. Why had she gone to all that trouble—the limo, the dog harness, the dark glasses—just to get her dog into a NASCAR race? Had she done it on a dare? It did seem more like a prank than anything else. Or maybe it was a test of some sort, a way to check and see if the security guards were on their toes. Like a puzzle he couldn’t solve, the problem kept nagging at him whenever his mind wandered. What was it about her, he wondered, that had captured his imagination?

  Was she good-looking? Sure, in a prim, I’m-so-perfect way, but the hair, the clothes, the makeup? Definitely not his type. Women like that were too high maintenance, too controlling to be much fun. Take her out a few times, and the next thing you know, she’d be buying you a day planner and organizing your sock drawer. He’d take a blowsy blonde with less on the ball than she had in her bra over that any day.

  So, if it wasn’t the woman he was obsessing about, maybe it was her dog. Nathan smiled. He’d been standing outside the press area when Boomer came bounding over. Seeing the wayward retriever running toward him, his first thought had been that it was Dobry, and as he bent down and embraced the velvety golden coat, he’d felt a lump in his throat. It was like taking a step back in time.

  Being an Army brat hadn’t been easy, and Nathan took the long separations from his father especially hard. As the jock of the family, Rudy spent most of his time either working out or on the field—football in autumn, track in the spring—and Nathan’s sister, Amelia, had little time for her annoying little brother. With their budget tight, his mother had had to pick up part-time work whenever she could, and money worries and her husband’s deployments left her short of both time and patience. Everyone agreed that Nathan needed a dog.

  He named him Dobry, which is Polish for “kind,” and the people at the shelter said he was a Lab/retriever mix, but the only thing that mattered to Nathan was that he was full to the brim with unconditional love for a lonely boy whose life up until then had been a series of dislocations. From the day they brought him home, Dobry had been his best friend.

  Nathan saw a Shell station up ahead and put on his signal. Thinking about Dobry always left him feeling a little downcast. When his parents had split up, the only apartment his mother could afford didn’t allow pets, and Dobry had to be sent back to the shelter. The sudden loss of his home, his father, and his best friend had cast Nathan into a pit of depression that manifested itself as behavior problems at school. He was a smart kid—smart enough to know that picking fights would only get him beaten up, anyway—so he’d turned his sharp tongue and quick wit into cutting remarks that provoked as many tears as laughter, earning his teachers’ censure and a grudging respect from his peers. It had been the perfect training ground for the kind of biting commentary that his column at the Trib had been famous for. Maybe that was why he’d taken its loss so hard. Without it, Nathan felt defenseless.

  He pulled up to the pump and got out of the car. So, he thought, it wasn’t the blind woman he’d been obsessing about at all—just her dog, and only because it had reminded him of Dobry. Nathan ran his credit card through the pay slot and grabbed the nozzle. Now that the mystery was solved, he felt almost giddy with relief. He had enough trouble in his life without mooning over some stuck-up princess.

  As he removed the gas cap, he heard footsteps approach and stop next to the car.

  “Hello, there,” a woman said. “Remember me?”

  Nathan looked up and nearly dropped the nozzle. It was her, the woman from the speedway, looking like a Midwestern farm girl in a chambray shirt, jeans, and work boots. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a haphazard ponytail, and a few stray tendrils had pulled loose, framing her bare face like a nimbus. The change from the day before was so complete that he might not even have recognized her if it hadn’t been for those long legs. Nathan stood just over six feet, and the two of them were standing eye to eye.

  “I was just thinking about you,” he said, and winced. “Sorry. That didn’t come out right.”

  “That’s okay.” She laughed. “It’s not every day you witness a miracle, right?”

  He stuck the nozzle into the gas tank and turned on the pump.

  More often than you’d think, apparently.

  “I’m sorry to come charging over here like this, but I didn’t get a chance to thank you for rescuing me at the speedway yesterday. We would have been kicked out if you hadn’t helped with that security guard.”

  Nathan nodded, trying not to stare. Without the makeup and the designer duds, there was a delicacy about the woman that was breathtaking. He’d thought she was good-looking before. Now she was stunning.

  “No problem,” he said, trying to sound as if rescuing damsels in distress was an everyday occurrence. “I take it you and Boomer got back to your suite okay.”

  “Yes. The escape actually helped me get out of a—Hey, you remembered his name.”

  “Of course. I’d remember yours, too, if you’d told me.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and stuck out her hand. “Jennifer Westbrook.”

  He wiped his hand down his pants leg before offering it. Jennifer’s grip was firm, businesslike.

  “Nathan Koslow. Nice to meet you.”

  She was staring at the Mustang, obviously impressed. So, Rudy had been right about the sports car, Nathan thought. Too bad they weren’t in Chicago. He might have screwed up his courage and asked her out for a drink.

  “Did you stay in Joliet last night?” she said.

  “I did.”

  “I thought so. When we were at breakfast this morning, I saw your car in the motel parking lot next door.”

  He cringed, thinking about the fleabag motel where he’d spent the night.

  “Yep,” he said. “That was me.”

  The pump shut off. Nathan hung the nozzle back up and replaced the gas cap.

  So much for first impressions.

  “Your sunglasses are in my truck,” she said. “You want to say hi to Boomer before you go? I’m sure he’d like to see you again.”

  “Sure, I’d like that.”

  Jennifer looked around at the other cars.

  “We should probably clear out of here first. There’s a dog park just down the road, if you’d like to meet us there.” She hesitated, and a shadow crossed her face. “Don’t expect too much, though. He’s been kind of tired lately.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Jennifer pulled into a parking spot and waited for Nathan to arrive. Nathan Koslow, she thought, frowning thoughtfully. Why did that name sound familiar? She met a lot of influential people in her job at Compton/Sellwood, but she didn’t think he was one of them, and if he was someone she ought to know but couldn’t place, she’d never let on. In her experience, most truly famous people were happy to be left alone; it was only the minor celebrities who hated to go unrecognized. Unless she could remember where she’d heard of him, it was probably best not to ask.

  She saw the Mustang pull into the parking lot and reached back to untether Boomer’s harness. A quick hello and then an easy walk might be best, under the circumstances. She grabbed his leash and walked around to the passenger side, expecting she’d have to coax him out. Instead, when she opened the door, Boomer leaped out of the truck and went barreling toward the Mustang. Before Jennifer could stop him, he’d launched himself into Nathan’s arms. She stood there watching, dumbfounded. What had gotten into him all of a sudden?

  “I thought you told me he was tired,” Nathan laughed, dodging a lick to the mouth.

  “He was,” she said, hurrying over to attach his leash. “I guess all that resting on the drive out here must have helped.”

  Boomer leaned against Nathan’s leg and stared up adoringly.

  “Looks like you’ve made a friend,” Jennifer said. “Care to join us on our walk?”

  “Sure. Just let me lock up the car.”

  The park was busy
that time of day. Mothers watching their children on the playground, joggers wearing earbuds and heart monitors, and businessmen on their lunch hour had all come out to enjoy the sunshine. While she waited for Nathan to return, Jennifer continued to rack her brain for where she’d heard his name before.

  Nathan Koslow.

  He wasn’t a client—she’d have remembered that—nor was he someone from her former life. Maybe he worked at city hall, she thought. Every election seemed to usher in a batch of unfamiliar faces, and she could never keep them all straight. As he started back across the parking lot, Jennifer saw him glance at her black Toyota Tundra and raise an eyebrow.

  “Is that thing yours?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “No reason,” he said, swatting dog hairs from his shirt. “You just don’t seem the type.”

  And what type was that? she wondered. She held out his sunglasses.

  “Here, you don’t want to forget these.”

  He slipped them on, and the three of them started down the path.

  Even after being cooped up in the truck half the morning, Boomer was on his best behavior, staying close and gazing up from time to time at the two of them. The fresh air and sunshine felt good, and Jennifer felt her irritation begin to ease. Nathan Koslow wasn’t the first person to comment on her choice of vehicle, after all, and Boomer seemed to be enjoying his company. A walk in the park might not be very special, but at least he wasn’t begging to get back in the truck.

  “Boomer usually tries to yank my arm off when we’re out for a walk,” she said. “He must like you.”

  “I like him, too. He reminds me of the dog I had as a boy.”

  “Really? What was his name?”

  Nathan stared at the ground and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  They came to the fenced-in area where dogs were allowed to run free. Nathan opened the gate, and the three of them stepped inside. A solitary white oak stood in the middle of the flat, grassy expanse, its massive crown of leaves already turning the distinctive brownish red of autumn, and acorns littered the ground. On their right were benches for people to sit down and relax.

  “Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves,” he said.

  “Yeah. Kind of surprising, considering what a nice day it is.”

  Jennifer removed Boomer’s leash and lobbed the stick she’d picked up on the way there. The dog took off, caught the stick in midair, and brought it back, bypassing her outstretched hand at the last second and offering it to Nathan. After a brief game of keep-away, Nathan was able to wrestle it free. He drew his arm back and threw the stick again. It flew end over end, landing just inside the opposite fence.

  “You should feel honored,” Jennifer said as Boomer scrambled after it. “He doesn’t usually like men. Or at least none of the ones I know.”

  Nathan took a seat next to her on the bench.

  “He’s obviously a very discriminating animal.”

  She smiled. “I’ve always thought so.”

  Boomer had lost his stick in the tall grass; Jennifer watched as he began a frantic search to recover it. Over at the playground, the happy squeals of delight had turned to wails of outrage. Someone had commandeered the slide.

  “So,” Nathan said, “I saw you at the speedway and you saw my car at the motel; now we’re both here in Atlanta. What gives?”

  Jennifer pursed her lips. Was this just an innocent question, she wondered, or was he angling for information? It would help if she could remember why his name sounded familiar. She could almost hear Stacy whispering a warning to her about serial killers.

  Oh, don’t be ridiculous.

  “I’m on vacation,” she said. “Boomer and I are taking Route 66 out to the coast.”

  He laughed. “Why, did your book club just read On the Road? Take the freeway; it’s faster.”

  Jennifer felt her lips tighten. The sarcasm, coming on the heels of her own disappointment, felt like a rebuke. What business was it of his?

  “It’s not just about getting there quickly,” she said. “It’s about appreciating the history, and the scenery, and the … the—”

  “Broken asphalt, run-down buildings, cows?” He scoffed. “Come on. You’re a little young to be nostalgic, aren’t you?”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” she said coolly. “Since it looks like you’re going the same way.”

  “Ah, but you see, I’m not on vacation. I’m getting paid to do this.”

  Jennifer turned away, pretending to watch Boomer as she absorbed this new piece of information. So, he was out here because of his job. Who did this guy work for, she wondered, the Department of Transportation? Public Works? If she didn’t figure it out soon, it was going to drive her crazy.

  Boomer came bounding back with the stick and started teasing Nathan with it, pretending to give it up and then snatching it away again.

  “So, what is it you do?” he said. “When you’re not on vacation, that is.”

  He was awfully curious for someone she’d just met, Jennifer thought. Hadn’t she read somewhere that Ted Bundy had seemed like a normal guy?

  “Public relations.”

  Nathan threw the stick again, and Boomer took off.

  “Oh, so you’re a spin doctor.”

  “It’s not the term I’d use,” she said, watching as the dog went streaking away.

  He smiled. “So tell me, what wonderful, historically significant things have you appreciated so far?”

  After the spin-doctor comment, Jennifer wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him. The truth was, most of what she and Boomer had been doing were pretty lame. Nevertheless, it seemed churlish not to answer.

  “Lots of things,” she said. “We ate at the Route 66 Diner, then we drove to Wilmington and saw the Gemini Giant—”

  He grimaced. “What did you think of that? Disappointing, huh?”

  “A little,” she said, her teeth clenching. “We saw several covered bridges, too, and stopped at most of the scenic lookouts. Then we saw Paul Bunyon and now we’re here.”

  “All of that just this morning?” Nathan whistled. “I’m tired just hearing about it.”

  Jennifer struggled to control her temper. Why was he being so snide? One act of kindness on his part hardly gave him the right to criticize what she was doing. When Boomer trotted back with the stick, she stepped forward and took it away.

  “You know something? I think Boomer’s had enough exercise for now. We’d better get going.”

  Nathan seemed nonplussed.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll walk you back.”

  “No need,” she said, forcing a smile. “I think I remember the way.”

  Boomer, however, was reluctant to leave.

  Typical male, she thought as she snapped on his leash and started tugging him back out of the gate. He’d been showing off for his new pal, and now that she wanted to leave, he was sulking.

  Jennifer gave Boomer the stick to carry, hoping to mollify him, but as they headed for the parking lot, he kept trying to turn around and go back, giving Nathan time to catch up with them.

  “So, where are you heading to now?” he said, as they crossed the parking lot.

  Jennifer closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Yes, he was annoying, but Nathan Koslow—whoever he was—had done her a good turn. She would not be rude, she would not be uncivil, but neither would she tell him anything more than good-bye. He had her thanks, he had his sunglasses—they were done.

  “I don’t know,” she said, unlocking her truck. “I think we’ll just wing it from here and see what happens.”

  She opened the back door and patted the seat encouragingly.

  “Come on, Boomie. Drop the stick and get inside,” she said. “We haven’t got all day.”

  Boomer looked away. The stick stayed where it was.

  “I said, drop the stick.” Jennifer snatched it out of his mouth and tossed it aside.

  “Maybe he’s tired,” Nathan said. “H
ere, let me help.”

  “No, don’t do that,” she said. “He can get in by himself.”

  “It’s no trouble,” he said, scooping Boomer into his arms.

  Before Jennifer could stop him, Nathan had set her dog in the backseat and started securing his harness.

  “If you’re looking for something Boomer would enjoy, there’s a fire hydrant museum about ten miles from here.” He glanced back at her. “Twenty-two in a row and a fountain at each end. You should check it out.”

  She sighed. Just when she’d been ready to give this guy the heave-ho, he had to go and do something nice.

  “Thanks. Maybe we will.”

  “There you go.” Nathan stepped back and closed the door.

  “I’m curious,” Jennifer said. “How did you know about the fire hydrants? They weren’t mentioned in any of my guidebooks.”

  “Oh, I’m full of travel info. It’s what I’m doing these days.”

  As the penny finally dropped, Jennifer almost choked. Nathan Koslow! No wonder she hadn’t figured it out sooner. She’d been thinking of him as the nice guy who’d helped her out at the speedway, not the Trib’s erstwhile attack dog. To read his columns, you’d think the man didn’t have a heart.

  “I just realized who you are,” she said. “You write for the Trib. I used to read your column.”

  He nodded, but the smile had dimmed a bit.

  “Thanks,” he said. “It’s always good to hear from a fan.”

  “Oh, I was never a fan,” she said. “You’ve eviscerated more than one of my clients in the past.”

  Nathan shrugged. “Well, if I did, then they deserved it.”

  Jennifer wanted to wipe the smile off his face. Nathan Koslow had been a big deal around town before he started slinging mud at the wrong people. She’d be willing to bet that she wasn’t the only one who’d breathed a sigh of relief when his column got pulled.

  “No one deserves to have his public image manipulated like that,” she snapped.

  “Oh, but it’s okay to manipulate it the way you do? Come on.”