Dog Park Diaries: Sienna

No, no, no.

“Eeyore, no!”

Sienna ran toward the impending disaster, but since her Great Dane was about ten times faster than she was, she was too late to keep the collision from happening. 

The man in Eeyore’s path was mowed down and, in almost the same breath, her gray monster was licking his prey’s face with wide swipes of his pink tongue.

“No, buddy.” She grabbed her dog’s collar and pulled, but it was like trying to haul away an elephant.

The man Eeyore was stepping on let out a grunt, and she recognized the flame-red hair even without seeing his face.

Oh no.

Eeyore had just plowed over her boss. Technically, Parker was her boss’s boss, which seemed silly because he had to be about the same age as she, about twenty-five. She didn’t know for sure. She’d never actually spoken to him. Or seen him smile.

And he wasn’t smiling now as she finally got Eeyore under control. Parker pushed to his feet.

He towered over her. She was short even in heels, but today she was wearing sneakers. It was too dangerous to walk her mammoth in dress shoes. Or sandals. Or bare feet. 

“I’m really s-sorry,” she stammered. “He doesn’t usually knock people over like that.” Which was a tiny stretch of the truth because he could knock over a kid with an accidental brush of his hips.

Eeyore slumped to the ground with a great whiff of air and promptly rolled onto his back. What–?

And then she saw the diminutive white-and-brown dog that was probably the reason he’d rushed Parker in the first place.

It was a Papillon—French for butterfly—and had pointy ears complete with a fall of fur from each one. And a rhinestone collar. And pink toenails.

The little dog was doing her best to ignore Eeyore. And he knew it because he whined softly. 

Her boss owned a tiny diva dog. Who would’ve guessed?

She couldn’t help grinning but wiped the expression when she looked up at Parker to find him frowning fiercely at her.

“Uh-oh, your shirt.”

What had been a crisp white dress shirt was now wrinkled and had several muddy paw prints staining the front.

She didn’t want to guess what the seat of his slacks looked like. 

“I can pay to have them dry cleaned,” she said quickly.

He couldn’t fire her for this, could he? It was the weekend, not office hours. Which begged the question, why was he dressed like that? The other people enjoying the dog park were in shorts and T-shirts and sneakers, like her.

“That’s not necessary. C’mon, Peaches.”

She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling at the name. Seriously?

Peaches didn’t follow Parker, who stopped several feet away and looked back.

Eeyore was still lying prone on his back, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. 

The smaller dog was standing stock-still.

“I think she’s playing hard to get,” Sienna joked.

Nothing. No hint of a smile cracked Parker’s face. He snapped his fingers. Clapped his hand against his thigh. The tiny dog still didn’t move.

“This is our first time at the dog park,” he muttered. 

“Oh. Well, maybe she’s a little uncertain.” Sienna dropped to the ground right there beside her Dane and crossed her legs. She held out her hand toward Peaches. “Hey there, sweetie.”

The small dog promptly jumped into her lap and curled into a ball. Eeyore rolled to lie on his chest, resting his huge droopy snout on Sienna’s thigh. Good thing she hadn’t showered yet today. Blech.

“You’re a cutie, aren’t you?” Sienna scratched behind Peaches’ ear, and the little dog’s lips split in a doggy smile.

And then Parker loomed over her. “What are you doing?”

“Making friends.” You should try it. She bit her tongue to keep the sarcastic words in. She had to squint up at him because he stood just between her and the morning sun. “I’m Sienna.”

His frown deepened, which she wouldn’t have guessed possible a moment before. “I know.”

He knew. She wasn’t sure he would since he mostly ignored everyone in the office who wasn’t a senior manager.

“And this is Eeyore.” She gestured to the big galoot lying next to her.

How did Parker do that? He didn’t have to say a word, but his expressive eyebrow tilt was just as effective as him saying, Really?

It was too bad he was so attractive. People who looked like Parker shouldn’t be allowed to have chips on their shoulders or whatever it was that made him constantly frown.

Too bad he wasn’t as pretty on the inside as he was on the outside.

His face started to flush. “What?”

Uh-oh. Had she said that last part aloud?

Surely not.

But judging by the thunderclouds gathering on his brow, she had.

“Um. You should smile more. You have a great smile,” she babbled. And then she winced. “Am I fired?”

#

On Wednesday morning, Parker strode into the employee break room to find Sienna inside, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

He briefly considered abandoning his quest to refill the mug in his hand. If he backed out of the door slowly, she might not even know he’d been in here.

And then, as if she sensed him, she glanced over her shoulder.

He watched as the happy, welcoming light in her eyes faded, as the beginnings of the smile that had been on her lips disappeared.

You should smile more.

He couldn’t believe she’d dared to say that to him last Saturday at the dog park. Most of his employees were so frightened of him that they gave him a wide berth. No one ever told him what they really thought to his face.

And she wasn’t any different, donning a tight, fake smile as she held up the carafe. “Can I pour you some?”

He held out his mug in silent entreaty and pretended he couldn’t see her hand trembling as she poured.

Am I fired?

Was that really how they all saw him? The big, bad beast? Ready to lay off anyone who dared displease him?

He’d been more stunned than anything else after her huge monster of a dog had mauled him. When he’d come face to face with one of his employees, his brain had wracked itself for polite conversation, but he’d been so discombobulated—and let’s admit it, making small talk had never been his forte—that he’d pretty much been staring at her like a twelve-year-old boy who’d just bumped into his first crush.

Okay, he’d been that socially-awkward twelve-year-old. He’d been taking freshman-level classes at the high school and had accidentally run into one of the prettiest girls on campus, a cheerleader. He’d nearly wet himself.

This might have been worse.

She finished pouring and slid the carafe back on the burner. She’d filled a small round tray with not one, but four coffees on it. Each one was a slightly different shade of mocha as if she’d doctored each one differently.

“Do we need to institute a daily limit on coffee consumption?”

She blanched slightly. “Uh. That one is mine.” She pointed to the caramel-colored one. “And those are for Teri, Brandon, and Tate.” She pointed to the other three in sequence.

“I gathered as much. It was meant to be a joke.”

But as usual, his sense of humor wasn’t up to spec. 

She smiled, but it was obviously forced.

And some part of him—the part that was obviously a glutton for punishment—forced himself to blurt out, “Maybe next time you’ll bring me a cup.”

She’d begun to pick up the tray—it was maybe an inch off the counter—but now it clattered back down.

“Umm. Really?” Her gray eyes narrowed. “Or was that supposed to be another joke?”

He hadn’t meant it as one. He formed his lips into an approximation of a smile. “Of course it was.”

She reached for her tray again, giving him the side-eye as she walked past. He went to the fridge and took out the creamer. Maybe he hid his burning cheeks in the cool air wafting off of the open appliance.

“It’s just…”

He abruptly turned, sloshing coffee over his fingers. He set the mug on the counter and tore off a paper towel.

She was standing just inside the doorway, clutching that tray in front of her.

“It’s just what?” he asked, striving to present a calm facade. What was it about her that threw him off-kilter? These last two times in her presence he’d felt both hot and cold. He wanted to talk to her and he wanted her to go away. What was that?

“I wasn’t sure…you never talk to the junior accountants. I didn’t think you knew my name because I’ve never seen you speak to anyone who isn’t a senior manager.”

“I know the names of everyone I employ.”

She frowned. Not the right thing to say. What had she said before? You never talk to the junior accountants.

“Do you know how many hours per week it takes to run this firm?”

Based on her growing frown, that hadn’t been the right thing to say either. 

“It doesn’t take that long to say hello to someone in the hall. Or ask how their weekend was.”

Maybe it didn’t take a lot of time, but figuring out social cues and devising small talk took a toll on him. They were not skills he had in his repertoire. 

But her chin raised, and somehow it almost felt like a dare. He found himself saying, “How was your weekend? Sienna.”

Stupid. That was something to be asked on a Monday. Not mid-week.

But her entire face lit up in a smile. “Kind of an adventure. I ran into my boss at the dog park. And Eeyore ran over him.”

The name hit him all over again, just like it had the first time. “Eeyore? For that energetic bunny?” The only thing that dog had in common with the donkey was the color of his fur.

“You’re one to talk. Peaches?” She wrinkled her nose.

It probably wasn’t a good thing that he found it adorable.

Discomfort followed on the heels of that realization, and he gave her his shoulder as he poured creamer into his mug. It wasn’t appropriate for him to find one of his employees attractive.

She shifted her feet in the doorway.

This was the problem with starting conversations. He had no road map for them. No idea how to end this one before she realized he found her attractive.

“She’s my niece’s dog,” he finally said. “Abby is gone for a spring break trip, and I got saddled with the mutt.”

Abby would rail at him if she ever heard him call the dog that, but he and Peaches didn’t exactly get along.

He picked up his mug, ready to go back to his office. And shut the door. No one but him would know he was hiding.

“That’s really nice.”

Why did she sound so surprised? He couldn’t help the scowl that escaped.

“I’m meeting up with a couple of friends at the dog park tonight. You should come.”

With that, she left the break room entirely.

And also left him reeling.

 

#

Sienna was ninety-five percent sure that Parker wasn’t coming to the dog park. The summer sun was already setting.

She stood with her friends Rosalee and Micah as they watched their dogs frolic with the few other animals on the premises. 

“Is that him?” Rosalee asked.

To her complete surprise, it was Parker fumbling with the inside gate to the dog park. She watched as he set Peaches on the ground, straightened to his full height, and squared his shoulders as if he were preparing to face a firing squad.

Micah snorted softly. “What exactly did you tell this guy about us?”

Thank goodness Parker was too far away to hear.

“I don’t think he has very many friends,” she said softly.

Any. After the awkward conversation in the break room earlier today, she doubted he had any friends. 

Either that or she drove him crazy.

Maybe it was both.

He walked directly toward them. 

“Hey, Parker,” she called out when he got within hearing distance.

“Is it safe? Where’s your terror… I mean, your Eeyore?”

Micah snorted again.

She rolled her eyes and pointed to the far side of the enclosure, where some poor guy was throwing a tennis ball for the five dogs that kept fetching it back to him.

“These are my friends.” She made introductions and Parker shook hands. So far so good.

He glanced around. “Not many dogs here tonight.” 

It was a thinner crowd than it would be on Saturday, for sure.

Micah said, “Did you know that having too many dogs is known as a roverdose?”

Both Sienna and Rosalee groaned at Micah’s joke. Sienna had heard it maybe a thousand times.

Parker just did the eyebrow raise.

And of course, Micah couldn’t leave it alone. “Wow. You were right.” He elbowed Sienna. “His eyebrow power is crazy.”

She blushed furiously but also laughed helplessly as Parker turned his incredulous expression on her. 

“Come on,” she said through giggles. “You have to know you’ve got a very expressive face.”

Or maybe she just noticed more because before a few days ago, he’d rarely spoken in her presence.

She stifled the last of her giggles. “Sorry. I wasn’t… I wasn’t making fun of you.”

His expression had gone carefully blank. She couldn’t tell whether she’d made him angry or he was flattered. Nothing.

An awkward pause descended. She glanced to Micah—he had no dumb puns available?—and Rosalee, but they were no help.

She cleared her throat. “Are you and Peaches getting along? When do you have to give her back to your niece?”

He glanced around as if he’d forgotten he’d even brought the dog. “Sunday.” But Sienna caught his little sigh of relief when he spotted the tiny dog sniffing another furry friend about her same size.

He grimaced as he looked back to Sienna. “I don’t think she likes me.”

“Why not? She seems pretty sweet.”

He shrugged. “She barely eats. She doesn’t want to play ball or anything. She just curls up in a ball on my pillow.”

“Maybe she wants to snuggle.” 

He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I can’t tell if you’re teasing me or not.”

Yeah, she was getting that.

“Some dogs like to snuggle. Eeyore does.”

Now she saw the return of that eyebrow. 

“He does,” Micah confirmed. “If you visit Sienna’s apartment, never sit on the yellow sofa. You’ll find yourself with a lap full of Great Dane.”

It was slow coming, but a smile spread across his lips. And it was so unfair because it made him even more handsome. He had a dimple, a slash in his left cheek that looked like the perfect place to plant a kiss.

Bad brain. Don’t think like that about your boss.

She tried to play off the moment, holding one hand in front of her eyes. “I’m blind! I’ve seen the holy grail.”

“Ha ha.” Even though she wasn’t looking, she could hear the smile in his voice. “You’re the one who told me to smile more.”

She dropped her hand. “This is true. You have a great smile.”

If she wasn’t mistaken, he was the one blushing now.

“It wouldn’t kill you to use it more at the office,” she said. “It might keep us underlings from being frightened of you.”

His smile disappeared. He squinted across the field. 

And she should do the smart thing and leave it alone, but she didn’t. “What?”

“I worry about getting too friendly with others in the office.” He’d said the words in the most stilted tone she’d ever heard from him. 

“Good call,” said Rosalee. Sienna had almost forgotten her friends were still standing close, listening to the entire exchange. “Gotta keep your aura of authority.”

He glanced at Rosalee briefly and back to where Peaches was playing. “It’s hard enough having to give evaluations to employees twice my age.”

She’d focused so much on the fact that he wasn’t fraternizing with her group that she hadn’t given a thought to the fact that he might feel uncomfortable in his role, at his age. 

When he glanced at her, she could read the question in his expressive face. Did she understand?

Of course she did, but still… “Maybe there’s a balance to be struck. Surely a few smiles wouldn’t undermine your authority that badly.”

“Hmm.” Was his only response.

#

Midmorning on Friday, a soft knock came on Parker’s already-open office door. 

Sienna stepped in, a steaming coffee mug in hand. 

“Hey. Brought you this.” She was quick to set it down on the edge of his desk and then back away a few steps.

But she didn’t leave.

And he found his attitude oddly buoyant even though he’d been staring at an endless scroll of blinding Excel columns only a moment ago.

“Thank you.” He sipped the coffee and then hummed in appreciation. “This is good. How’d you know…?” She’d doctored it with just the right amount of creamer.

“Lucky guess after I watched you the other day.”

Her smile hit him right in the gut, just like it had two days ago at the dog park. When she’d laughed, he’d felt like a chorus of angels was singing.

And then he’d felt foolish for conjuring such an overblown sentiment. It was just a laugh.

Her feet stayed put, but her gaze shifted around his office. “How’s Peaches?” she asked absently.

It wasn’t as if there was much to see. His degrees were framed on the wall, but he hadn’t hung any personal photos. Too incriminating.

“Peaches…” He trailed off and her gaze returned to him. “She did want to snuggle.”

She laughed a tiny incredulous laugh, but it was enough to hit the pit of his stomach.

“I invited her into the recliner with me, and she curled up in my lap. Didn’t move the rest of the evening.”

Her eyes were dancing. He’d read that expression in a novel before and scoffed at it. Imagine someone’s eyes popping out of their head and jitterbugging around the room.

But Sienna’s dancing eyes made him want to smile back at her like a complete dope.

Luckily, he had better impulse control than that. He steepled his fingers on the desk.

“Look, I don’t think—”

“How old were you when you graduated high school?” she said at the same time.

What did that have to do with anything? “Fifteen.”

“Wow.” Her blue eyes flashed. Not with humor this time. Something else, something he didn’t recognize.

“And college?” 

“My bachelor’s only took me two and a half years.” His words held an impatient bite. Her curiosity was poking at his sensitive underbelly. “If you’re quite done psychoanalyzing me…”

He saw the flicker in her eyes. 

The questions she didn’t dare voice after his harsh words.

Yes, his education had come first. His mother had declared very early on that he was a boy genius. 

He didn’t know about that. He liked learning, that was all.

It had been his mother’s idea for him to enter high school early. He’d never made friends because all the kids around him were older. He had been the butt of many jokes. And some bullying. 

The bullying had gone away at college, but not the jokes. By then, he’d resigned himself to being friendless.

He didn’t need anyone. He’d bought into the accounting practice last year and taken over fully this year. Work kept him busy. Work was something he could understand.

Until the past few days, he had been reasonably content with his life.

Until Sienna.

“All of what you’re thinking is true,” he said. He summed it up as succinctly as possible. “Great education, no friends, no social graces.”

“No girlfriend?” she murmured.

There was no humor in her voice or expression, but he felt the blow of her words anyway.

It made it easier to do what he’d planned before she’d even stepped foot in the door.

“Miss Perle, I considered your suggestion and rejected it. I think it best if we don’t waste time trying to be friendly at work. Or anywhere else.”

Of course, she tried to argue. “I read the company handbook. I didn’t see a rule about employees being friends. Or even dating.”

Dating? It was like taking a punch to the gut. She’d thought about the two of them dating? She had never said she thought about him that way. Only hinted at it. And he was crap at reading hints.

“There is no rule,” he said. “But my decision stands.”

He saw the way her eyes darkened, the slight hitch in her shoulders.

And he drove the last nail in the coffin of their would-be friendship. “I can fetch my own coffee from now on.”

When it came, her smile was distant and fake. “I’m sorry I distracted you from your work.”

She left his office without a parting comment or an invitation to join her and her friends again at the dog park. There was no smile thrown over her shoulder.

That was good.

He tried to make himself believe it as he turned back to his computer. He stared blindly at the screen, not seeing the columns of numbers that had kept his focus before Sienna’s interruption.

He didn’t need a distraction like her in his life. It was easier to keep her in the box where she’d started. Employee. 

It was safer that way.

Now he couldn’t disappoint her.

And she couldn’t abandon him when she discovered just how limited his knowledge of working relationships was.

Safer.

But it didn’t feel safe.

It felt awful as his gaze fell to the mug on his desk.

It felt like the one person who’d dared to step out of line, to care about him in even the smallest sense, was gone. He’d sent her away.

Better this way.

But he didn’t believe it.

#

One week later, Sienna sat at her cubicle’s desk. It was after lunch, and she was considering clocking out early. It was too hard to concentrate.

To be honest, she was surprised she still had a job. That first Friday after Parker had dismissed her from his office, she’d expected to walk in and be handed a pink slip.

It hadn’t happened, but it didn’t change her expectation.

She’d really stepped in the dog poo when she’d decided to try to be Parker’s friend.

Whatever loneliness or wistfulness or whatever she’d thought she’d seen in him had been all in her head.

He hadn’t come back to the dog park. Why would he? His niece had surely returned to claim Peaches after her trip.

She hadn’t sought him out. She’d kept her coffee to herself and her head down.

She shouldn’t miss him. They hadn’t even had time to develop a friendship, not really.

But she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

She should clock out early. Maybe go get her head examined.

She was reaching for the desk drawer where she kept her purse when a soft jingle stopped her.

Was that…?

Peaches pranced down the hallway in her direction.

Sienna bent from the waist, still in her desk chair, and snapped her fingers. “C’mere sweetie.”

The dog came right to her.

She patted her lap, and Peaches didn’t hesitate to jump up onto her knees while wearing a wide doggie smile.

And then Parker was coming down the hall. He didn’t look harried and frustrated as if he were chasing the dog.

He looked like a man on a mission. Holding a mug of coffee.

Her stomach swooped as if she were sitting on a rollercoaster at the top of the first giant hill.

“I found your puppy.” 

As he neared, Peaches started wagging her tail. It bumped against Sienna’s side.

She couldn’t help a rush of gladness to match the dog’s.

She tried to mask it, ducking her head to scratch the tiny dog’s chin.

“This is for you.” He offered her the mug.

When she reached up to take it, their fingers brushed.

It was hot to the touch, and she set it on the edge of her desk.

“Two sugars. That’s right, isn’t it? I asked Jimmy.”

He’d asked one of her co-workers how she took her coffee?

“I…am not sure how to respond here,” she said. “I thought we weren’t going to speak to each other during business hours.” Or any other time.

He winced. Then rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s possible I made a mistake. I—“

“Parker, wait,” she said.

Some expression she couldn’t identify crossed his face. “Let me finish, please.”

Oh, this was going to backfire on her in a major way.

His frown deepened as he spoke. “I like you. As a human being but also as a… as a woman.”

She shook her head slightly, her eyes widening in distress.

And he stopped, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I’m too late? You’ve decided against me?”

Oh dear. “Parker,” she said softly. “You know I work in a cubicle, right?”

He looked around at the desk with scattered papers, her picture of Eeyore that she’d pinned to the shoulder-high wall, her laptop open on the desk.

“Yes, I am aware that you work in a cubicle.”

He didn’t get it. 

“Parker, the walls are like paper. Everyone’s eavesdropping on us right now.”

His cheeks flushed a dark pink. Now his eyes darted from left to right. “Everyone?”

“Sorry, sir,” Maddie said from her cubicle to Sienna’s left.

“Uhh…” Jimmy’s head popped up from the cubicle catty-corner to the right. He crossed his arms on top of the cube wall. “I think we are missing some vital information though. Sienna, fill us in?”

A muscle in Parker’s jaw was jumping.

But then he exhaled forcibly, and his shoulders relaxed.

He raised that one expressive eyebrow. Not quite a question.

More of a dare.

And the rollercoaster inside her took off down that crazy-big hill. 

She grinned at Parker but spoke to Jimmy and her other coworkers, who were listening in. “Parker wants to join us for karaoke on Friday night. He’s not a great singer but he wants to get to know us—all of us—better.”

Parker rocked on his heels. He was almost vibrating with tension. As if he were… nervous?

Her stomach was jittery. She hugged Peaches to her.

“And he’s taking me out for coffee tonight after work.”

All the tension went out of Parker. One corner of his mouth tipped, and she knew she was a second away from seeing that killer smile again.

“And the rest is none of your business. Get back to work, Jimmy.”

She was right. Parker’s smile was bright enough to blow her away. 

She stood up and handed Peaches over, edging closer as the dog settled into the crook of his arm.

She was conscious of the nosy ears still listening to them. And also of how she was glowing with pleasure.

“Six o’clock?” she asked. “The Eatery?”

“That’s not a coffee shop.” His brows creased.

“They serve coffee. And if we talk long enough, you can buy me dinner, too.”

He clasped her hand, squeezed it, and then let it go. “See you tonight.”

The end.