A Fine Line by William G. Tapply

was a pleasant restaurant-bar on Boylston Street, just around the corner from Ben’s office on Temple Place.
    “You can buy me dinner,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop being pissed at you. I’ll see you there.”
    It wasn’t until I hung up that I remembered Henry.
    What the hell was I going to do with Henry? I couldn’t bring a dog into the restaurant.
    He’d been with me for just two days, and already I felt like I had a cinder block chained to my ankle.
    I went out to the reception area. Julie looked up at me with her eyebrows arched. “What?” she said. “You’ve got that look on your face.”
    “Please come in,” I said. “We’ve got to talk.”
    She followed me into my office. I pointed at the sofa. “Have a seat.”
    She remained standing there. “You act like you’re going to fire me.”
    “I’m thinking about it.”
    She smiled. “No you’re not. Why don’t you just tell me what’s on your mind.”
    “Actually I was thinking of giving you a raise.”
    Julie looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “Come on, Brady. For heaven’s sake, spit it out.”
    I went over to the sofa, sat down and patted the seat beside me. Julie came over and sat.
    I cleared my throat. “I really need . . . I mean, I wonder if I could convince you to take Henry for the weekend.”
    She shrugged. “Sure. Okay.”
    “Please? It would—what did you say?”
    “I said sure. I wouldn’t mind taking Henry for the weekend.”
    “You wouldn’t?”
    “No. If it would help you.”
    Henry, who’d been sleeping in the corner, apparently heard his name mentioned. He stood up, stretched, came over to where Julie and I were sitting, lay down in front of us, and gazed up at her.
    “Do you mean it?” I said.
    “I sort of expected this, Brady. Megan will love it, and Edward likes dogs. I like dogs, too, of course. Henry seems like he’ll be easy. Just for the weekend, though. You’ll have to take him back on Monday.”
    “I thought Megan was allergic to animals.”
    Julie smiled. “I made that up.”
    “What if she falls in love with him?”
    “That’s the only thing that worries me,” she said. “It’s not like you can give him to us. He’s not yours to give away.”
    “It feels like he’s been my dog for years,” I said. “He’s running my life. He woke me up at five-thirty this morning.”
    “Thanks for the warning.”
    “You sure you want to do this?”
    “Are you trying to talk me out of it?”
    I reached over and gave Julie a hug. “You’re amazing.”
    “True.”
    “I was prepared to order you to take him off my hands,” I said.
    “That would never work,” she said.

    Around four-thirty, Julie came into my office. “I turned off all the machines,” she said. “I’m leaving.” She went over to where Henry was snoozing in the corner, scooched down beside him, and scratched his forehead. “You ready to go?” she said to him.
    He looked up at her and yawned.
    “He likes three scoops of the dry stuff and half a can of Alpo at suppertime,” I said, “plus a little smackerel of something in the morning. He likes to sleep on a ratty sweatshirt. I think he likes the smell of manly sweat. I bet Edward’s got one he can spare. He’ll wake you up by lapping your face sometime between five-thirty and six. You should let him off the leash so he can ramble around the backyard. He needs all the exercise he can get. He’ll come when you call him. He’s really a very obedient dog. He loves to be scratched between his ears. Oh, and don’t forget . . .”
    I stopped. Julie was grinning at me.
    “What?” I said.
    “You sound like a new parent, giving instructions to your very first babysitter.”
    “Hell,” I said, “it’s just a dog.”
    “Don’t worry about Henry. We’ll be fine.”
    “Worry? I’m not worried.”
    She smiled.
    “It’ll be a relief,” I said. “Not having that damn dog running my life.”
    “I’ll have him back to you on Monday.”
    I waved