Batteries Not Required by Linda Lael Miller Read Free Book Online Page B

happen. “We’ve settled everything. We’re ready to go our separate ways.”
    Ted sat back, cupping his hands behind his head. “Really?” he asked, with a casual nod toward Sammy. “Who gets custody of the dog?”
    â€œI do,” Teague responded immediately.
    â€œNot in this lifetime,” Joanna protested.
    Teague looked at her in surprise. It always surprised Teague when anybody expressed an opinion different from his own; he was used to calling the shots, leading the charge, setting the course. Somewhere along the line, he’d forgotten that Joanna didn’t work for him. “ I was the one who sprang him from the pound when he was a pup,” he argued. “He’s my dog.”
    â€œWell,” Joanna answered, making an effort not to raise her voice, “ I’m the one who house-trained him and taught him not to eat sofas. I’m the one who walked him every day. I love Sammy, and I’m not about to give him up.”
    â€œJoanna,” Teague said darkly, “be reasonable.” Translation: Agree with me. You know I’m always right.
    â€œI’m tired of being reasonable,” Joanna said, examining her unmanicured fingernails. “I’m keeping the dog.”
    Teague rolled his blue eyes and, shoved a hand through his still-thick, slightly shaggy dark hair.
    A corner of Ted’s mouth quirked up in a smug little grin. They’d both known Ted since college, and they both trusted him, which was why they’d decided to let him handle the divorce. Now Joanna wondered if a stranger would have been a better choice, and Teague was probably thinking the same thing. “I guess you haven’t settled everything,” Ted said. “Sammy wouldn’t be the first dog in history to be the subject of a custody battle—but would you really want to put him through that kind of grief?”
    â€œJoint custody, then,” Teague grumbled, a muscle bunching in his cheek. “We’ll share him. My place one week, Joanna’s the next.”
    â€œOh, right,” Joanna scoffed. “I’d never see him unless you had a hot date.”
    Sammy whimpered softly, resembling a forlorn spectator at a tennis match as he turned his head from Joanna to Teague and back again. He wasn’t used to harsh tones—the Darby marriage had slowly caved in on itself, by degrees, after Teague and Joanna’s only child, Caitlin, went off to college. There had been no screaming fights, no accusations—or objects—flying back and forth. This was no War of the Roses .
    It might have been easier if it had been.
    â€œOne weekend,” Ted reiterated. He gestured toward Elliott Bay, sparkling blue-gray beyond his office windows. “You’ve got that great cottage on Firefly Island. When was the last time you went out there, just the two of you? Walked the beach? Sipped wine in front of the fireplace? Really talked?”
    Joanna felt a sharp pang, remembering happier times. She hadn’t been to the cottage in months—not once since she’d holed up there the previous summer, after Caitlin’s wedding, to finish her latest cookbook, with only Sammy for company. Teague had gone on a sailing trip, off the coast of Mexico. It had been a lonely time for Joanna, endurable only because she’d been buried in work.
    Now Teague got up from his chair, went to the windows, and stood with his back to the room, looking out over downtown Seattle and the waters beyond. “Are you a divorce lawyer or a marriage counselor?” he muttered.
    Sammy started to follow Teague, paused in the middle of the spacious office, then turned uncertainly to look at Joanna.
    She blinked back sudden, burning tears. Gestured for Sammy to go ahead, to Teague. Instead, he came back to her and laid his muzzle on her lap with a sad sigh.
    As Joanna watched her husband, an unexpected question popped into her mind. When did we lose each