Page 112 of When He Was Mine
He waited until I was safely in the elevator and the doors closed to walk to the concierge desk. I wondered what he was up to. I went inside and changed into a pair of dark blue sweats and a gray Columbia t-shirt. Oliver strolled through the door about ten minutes later.
“What’s going on?” I asked with suspicion in my voice.
“Nothing. I had to get the mail,” he said as he held up a few envelopes then shucked out of his coat. I settled on the couch and picked up a magazine when I heard whining coming from outside the door.
“Oliver?” I called him but didn’t answer me and I listened closely, tossed the magazine on the coffee table and edged to the door. It was a soft whine and I yanked it open to find a blue hard-shell carrier with a red bow on the top. A card was attached that read “Merry Christmas, Mommy.”
Inside was a small black and white French bulldog, who looked strikingly similar to Blackie. I knelt on the floor and popped open the wire door, gently taking the pup into my arms. Instantly in love, I pressed my nose to the top of his head, cooing softly and cradling him.
"Do you like him?" Oliver’s voice came from behind me, filled with excitement.
I looked up to see him standing there, a huge smile lighting up his face. "He’s beautiful. How did you know I wanted a dog?"
"Come on, sweetheart. You think I don’t hear you? You talk about how much you love Blackie," he said, his smile growing even wider.
"How old is he?" I asked, marveling at the little bundle of joy.
"Ten weeks. He’s had his check-up and shots," Oliver informed me, his eyes twinkling with pride.
"We have nothing to feed him. We have to go out," I fretted, already planning a list in my head.
Oliver scowled playfully. "On Christmas Eve? Not a chance. Everything is taken care of. I have toys, training pads, a bed, bowls, puppy chow, and a leash. I wanted to get you a collar, but you need to pick out his name first."
"I can’t believe you did this," I said, my voice full of wonder.
"Merry Christmas," he said warmly.
I stood up with the puppy in my arms and went to Oliver. His sapphire eyes shone with affection, and I stood on my tiptoes to give him a kiss on his sensual lips.
"I guess I’ll be taking a back seat to this little fellow," he teased.
"Not a chance, but you are very high on my list," I replied with a smirk.
I carried the puppy inside, and Oliver took the carrier, placing it in the foyer. I put the puppy on the floor and sat down with him. He walked around, sniffing and stopping every few seconds to look around, unsure of his surroundings.
"What shall I name him?" I mused aloud.
"It’s up to you. He’s yours," Oliver said, watching us with a contented expression.
The puppy eyed the tree and made a beeline for the many presents stacked under it. Before I could grab him, he was hidden in a sea of red, green, silver, and white gift bags of different sizes, moving further underneath. I shoved them out of the way and grabbed him before he got lost.
"I should call him Mischief or Trouble. He’s already getting into some," I said, laughing.
Oliver disappeared into his office and came back with a doggy bed, bowls, and training pads. I wondered if he got some cleaning solution for dog urine, remembering Blackie’s accidents on Matthew’s carpets. Our home had expensive furniture and carpets, and I was sure Oliver wouldn’t be pleased if the dog used any of them as his toilet.
I put the puppy down again, and once more he made a beeline for the tree. I managed to grab him before he burrowed in and out of reach.
"Definitely Trouble," I declared.
"Then Trouble Fox it is," Oliver said with a chuckle.
"Where was he?" I asked, curious about how he had kept the surprise.
"With the concierge. I had my security staff taking care of him," he replied nonchalantly.
I rolled my eyes. "Really? That’s not their job."
"They were guarding him. He is part of the family," Oliver said, his tone serious but his eyes twinkling with amusement.