Stuart by Alan Dean Foster

Author:Alan Dean Foster [Foster, Alan Dean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: FWRD MEDIA INC

CHAPTER NINE

Jen felt certain that Derek Jones’ house was going to be an easy sell. The asking price was fair, it was in a great neighborhood, and it was in like-new condition—probably because the owner hadn’t utilized half the rooms. Its internal layout made it suitable for an executive’s home or a sizable family. She felt fortunate to have the listing. As if that weren’t enough, the owner was…

Charming, she told herself. Just charming. Leave it at that. Don’t go down that road. Not now. There were other issues that had to be dealt with first. Her mother. Arthur. She glanced sideways at the good-looking chap striding along beside her. Her—dog. Brother, did she have issues.

As they approached the main entrance Stuart made admiring sounds.

“I told you it was huge.” Even as she was monitoring him her professional eye was making fresh mental notes of every section of fence, every stalk of landscaping. “I think he’s decided it’s much bigger than anything he needs. And he’s got two birds. I don’t know why. Maybe they remind him of the roar of the crowd. Or maybe he just likes birds.”

“Birds?” Stuart’s expression was child-like. “Real birds?”

Having come out to greet them, Derek had overheard. “Holly and Molly. I put them upstairs. They were in a very loud mood today.”

“’Today’?” Jen eyed him archly. “What were they doing the last time I was here? Whispering secrets?”

“You’d have to ask them.” His gaze shifted to her companion. “Or maybe Stuart here could ask them. Or does he only do dogs?”

Jen tensed slightly. Thankfully, Stuart didn’t respond. He was too busy sniffing the air emanating from the house. Interesting aromas arose from within. Derek noticed, and the distraction was enough for him to change the subject.

“I made us a Niçoise salad for lunch. I hope you like tuna.”

“You made?” Don’t go there, Jen reminded herself. Still, the fact that he had fixed lunch by himself instead of ordering in checked another box on her list of desirable male qualities. He might not have actually cooked anything, but it was still a step in the right direction. Not to mention the fact that he could correctly pronounce “Niçoise”.

“Sounds delicious,” she told him.

Stuart felt rather different about the midday meal prospects. Plainly grossed out, he leaned over to whisper to Jen as Derek led them into the house. He had learned enough to know not to say out loud what he was thinking. Most of the time, anyway.

“I thought I smelled tuna. That’s cat food. Cat food on top of rabbit food. I can’t eat that.”

She nudged him in the ribs. “Shhh, be quiet.”

Though doubtful, where an instruction from Jen was concerned he always complied. Feeling of his side where she had tapped him, he followed her in.

Bounding past Derek, Avery all but leaped into Stuart’s arms. His owner might have seen the retriever lick his visitor’s face enthusiastically. He likely did not see Stuart return the licking.

“Hey buddy.” Letting the retriever down easily, Stuart stroked the top of his head.

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