My Penthouse Harem

  (Part 1)

  A Slice of Life Men’s Fantasy

  Lena White

  This book is copyright © 2024 Lena White. All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover characters are models. Images are licensed from depositphotos.com

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  I can’t say for sure that I adopted my rescue dog so I had an excuse to see Bettie at the dog park again.

  But if I’m being honest with you, or myself, that was definitely part of the reason I did.

  So when I ran into her after just a week of trekking uptown to our old haunt with my new mutt, I was thrilled to see her again.

  Even better, she seemed happy to see me, too.

  More than happy, truth be told.

  Much more.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  (Click here to go to my author page)

  Table of Contents

  1

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  3

  4

  5

  6

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  8

  1

  As I waited to cross Twelfth Avenue, I watched for oncoming traffic while standing at the curb with my almost-new rescue dog, Laddie.

  Don’t laugh, I didn’t pick the name, and it’s the only one he answers to.

  The light took a while to change, as the cross street was always busy with cars and taxis. Despite the rain, Laddie seemed excited and alert, wagging his head back and forth like watching a tennis match. It was surprising to see how well-trained he was, given that the shelter where I found him had no idea how he acquired such training.

  We’d been going to the dog park a few blocks from my apartment for almost a week, and we both looked forward to getting there, but for very different reasons. Laddie loved the opportunity to run with other dogs without a leash - he exhibited none of the fear I’d seen in other rescues of strange canines, another mystery. The shelter estimated his age at around three years but he looked and acted younger to me, not that I can match their expertise in such matters. Laddie was only my third dog and the first one I owned outright.

  The light changed, and the traffic waited for us to cross before turning. A small crowd had gathered with us to wait for the light, mostly people on their way to meetings, as we were too late for the morning rush hour and too early for the lunch crowd. I’d just woken up a half hour earlier and grabbed a quick breakfast while Laddie ate before I leashed him for the walk to the dog park. Having walked him after I got home late last night from my shift at the Belvedere Tavern, where I tend bar, I knew his needs were likely urgent but not severe. Even so, I didn’t make him wait long for our outing. He didn’t complain - he never complains, so far at least.

  We covered the three blocks to the dog park quickly. I scanned the park as we approached but didn’t see what I was looking for, so as soon as we got through the gate, I unleashed Laddie, and he bounded across the rugged grass to a small pack of dogs playing at the far end of the enclosure. I walked to the first bench that was semi-protected from the rain by a large, fully-leafed tree and sat down to wait.

  I used to come to this dog park during the first Covid lockdown almost three years ago. I was new to the city and had moved in with a couple of guys I found on Craigslist in an apartment that I could barely afford with my income from the Belvedere, so I did some dog walking on the side to make ends meet. I never owned a dog when I was growing up - my older brother was allergic to all kinds of animals - but I always enjoyed dogs that my friends owned in our small town. My first apartment was small, so I couldn’t get my own dog at that point, but walking dogs, even for money, was something I really enjoyed. I didn’t expect to stay in that first apartment for long, so I promised myself I’d get a dog when I moved out.

  “Here you go, boy,” I said as I fed Laddie a treat. He finished playing with his new pals in the dog pack and came to where I was sitting with his tail wagging and his tongue hanging, as he panted hard. He’s a good dog, especially for a rescue in my limited experience, so I worry that he’s not going to stay with me for long. A dog that’s this well-trained is probably one that his former owner is searching for, so I kept an eye on the missing dog section on Craigslist, but so far, I’ve seen nothing about a collie-lab mix who answers to Laddie.

  I was just about ready to clip the leash to his collar when I heard what I’d been hoping to hear since I started coming back to this dog park.

  “Hey, Oliver,” a sweet voice washed over me. I spun around and smiled so hard my cheeks hurt.

  “Hey, Bettie. It’s been a while.” I stood up, and she came right to where I was standing to hug me. “I missed you.”

  “Missed you, too,” she said, which made my heart almost beat right out of my chest. “What’s it been, a year or so?”

  “Not quite, but close.” I stepped back and looked her up and down, all the while wondering if I was being rude. “You look great,” I added quickly, and she smiled that shy smile of hers that I used to love. Still do.

  Bettie Shaw is a beautiful young woman whom I met at this dog park about 18 months ago when we were both bringing our dogs in the middle of the morning at the time. She used to bring three matched Bichon Frises, all white, all insanely cute if you like that breed, but now she’s only got one on a leash. I’m reluctant to ask what happened to the other two. She looked around for my dog, and I had to explain.

  “Where’s Cuervo?”

  I sighed. “He was my girlfriend’s - you remember Chloe?” She made a slight face but covered it quickly.

  “I remember her name,” she said with a forced smile. “I never met her, though.”

  “Of course. Well, we broke up a few months ago, and she moved back to her hometown, taking Cuervo with her.”

  Bettie made a genuinely sad face and touched my arm lightly. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” she said in a tone that matched her expression.

  “Really? I never warmed to that dog, to be honest.” I tilted my head, and she laughed.

  “Well, you hid it pretty well, and he had such a cool name, right?” She smiled again with more enthusiasm than that neurotic dog deserved.

  “His name was the best thing about him, honestly.” She laughed again and tapped my arm again. I figured this was as good a time as any to ask her about her dogs. “Only one?” I asked gently with raised eyebrows.

  She turned her smile off almost immediately. “Yeah, it’s been a tough year,” she said softly, barely above a whisper. “In more ways than one.” Her dog was straining at her leash to join the pack, so Bettie motioned with her finger for a pause as she unclipped the leash from the little furball's collar. The tiny dog scampered away to join the others.

  “Snowball, my dog, got cancer and was gone almost before we could figure out what was wrong with her. Then Sweetie got hit by a car.” She choked back tears. Unsuccessfully.

  “Were you…?” I started without finishing. I almost don’t want to know.

  “No, it wasn’t my fault. Marcella had him at the time, thank god. I don’t know if I could have gotten through it if she’d died when I was supposed to be watching her.”

  I know that Marcella is one of Bettie's roommates, a Spanish model who mostly does catalog work and a little stage acting on the side if I remember correctly. I looked at the dog she brought with her to the dog park today and wracked my brain trying to remember the name of the third dog she used to bring with her when we first met, but I’ve drawn a blank. I can’t remember her other roommate’s name either, who, by the process of elimination, must be the owner of this one, the last of the three Bichons. I looked at her with the saddest expression I could muster and apologized.

  “I’m sorry, Bettie,” I whispered, which only pushed her to start crying again. I put my hand on her shoulder, and she waved her hand in front of her face.

  “I feel bad that I can’t control my emotions, but it’s still so hard, Oliver.” She pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed her eyes. “I know it makes me look ridiculous, but I can’t help it.”

  “No, it doesn’t, Bettie. It’s tough losing a dog, no matter how it happens. And you lost two, in a way.”

  “I know, right? It’s not like I didn’t love Marcella’s Sweetie as much as I loved Snowball.” She looked at me and smiled through her tears. “I forgot how easy it is to talk to you.” She looked down and away. I felt my color rise.

  “Are you still with what’s his name?” I asked out of desperation to change the subject and immediately felt like I jumped from the frying pan into the fire. Her demeanor changed, though, for the better in a way. She suddenly looked pissed.

  “No, Steve and I broke up months ago.” She looked off toward the dogs who bounded across the far end of the park in an unlikely pack as Bettie's roommate’s dog trailed behind the others on its tiny legs. Laddie led the pack but he was constantly looking back at the other dogs to make sure they were following his lead.

  “Sorry to hear things didn’t go well for you,” I lied. Bettie didn’t complain when she talked about her boyfriend at the time, but she didn’t have to. Whenever she told me anything about him, it sounded to me like he treated her badly when he wasn’t ignoring her or making her feel inadequate. I didn’t say anything back then, much as I wanted to, because I was in my own mess of a relationship and had enough drama in my life without inviting any more.

  She surprised me, though, when she eyed me with a cute little smile in one corner of her mouth. “Are you, Oliver?” she asked without really asking, and I blushed hard again.

  “It’s not like I wanted you two to crash and burn, Bettie,” I said honestly. Semi-honestly. She side-eyed me even harder, and I had to laugh. “Yeah, okay.” I looked down and nodded. “I did.”

  She softened and smiled to herself. “It’s okay, I knew he was no good for me.” She looked away and then peeked at me with a hint of a sexy smile. “I felt the same way about Chloe if we’re being completely honest.”

  I’m surprised. “Really?” I had no idea. “Why’s that?”

  Bettie stared at me for a second too long before she shrugged and said, “No reason. I’m just glad you’re out of that relationship, is all.” She looked away at the dog pack but then turned back to look at me. “I’m so glad you’re back, though. What happened to you?”

  “I moved, or I should say we moved.” She waited for me to continue, so I did. “We couldn’t get the landlord to renew our lease at the time, so we moved about three miles south. It was way too long a walk.” I shrugged and she nodded, which I read to mean she knew that fate brought us together and tore us apart. Whatever was at work now; luck, karma, subconscious desire - all three? - was beyond me.

  “Do you miss her?” She looked at me, but I tried not to read anything into it.

  “Sometimes, a little. Not much.” She nodded. “You? Do you miss what’s-his-name?” I smiled, and she gave me a look.

  “Steve? No, not at all. I’ve never had much luck with men.” She looked at me again, this time with something I hadn’t seen before.

  “You know,” I started, then faltered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Never mind.”

  “Oh, come on, Oliver,” she said with a gentle laugh. “What is it?”

  “Would you like to go out for coffee or something?”

  She touched my arm. “I’d like that.”

  2

  Coffee turned into lunch and a promise to meet again when we weren’t tied down by our dogs. The two animals got along fine and waited by our table without making a fuss or getting up in each other’s faces, a good thing for Pepper - whose name Bettie finally mentioned without me having to ask - as Laddie could probably devour the little guy in one bite, not that he ever would.

  We spent the time at a small sandwich shop with outdoor seating, no doubt leftover from the pandemic, and I could have easily spent twice the time we did, but I had to finally excuse myself to get ready for my shift at the bar. She didn’t ask, and I didn’t offer about a second date, but I said goodbye with a warm feeling about everything - reconnecting and getting right back to where we left off almost a year ago. Better yet, both of us were now unencumbered by other relationships. All in all, it was the best reunion I could have hoped for.

  The next day, I found Bettie waiting on the same bench we sat on the day before at the dog park, and I smiled to myself that she seemed even more eager than me to rekindle our relationship. Not that we ever had a relationship, just a friendship, related to our dogs and little else. I didn’t know much about her then and even less now, as we talked about things that weren’t all that personal at lunch yesterday. I vowed when I woke up this morning to rectify that situation.

  “So,” I began after we said hello and shared an awkward hug before we sat down. “What are you doing these days?” I didn’t mention the fact that I had no idea what she was doing a year ago - it seemed pretty lame that I didn’t know, but somehow I didn’t. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

  “Oh, this and that,” Bettie said with a distracted look. “What about you? Are you still at that bar you used to work at?”

  I was impressed that she remembered I worked at a bar, if not the name. “The Belvedere Tavern, on Montview.”

  She nodded. “Oh, yeah, I remember now. Are they getting past the pandemic okay?”

  “It was worse last year, so we’re probably going to make it. We’re packed most nights.”

  Bettie asked more questions about my job - how I liked my boss and co-workers, how I got into bartending, and what I planned to do going forward - but every time I tried to turn the conversation back to her, she deflected my questions. Finally, I decided to pin her down.

  “You never talk about what you’re doing, Bettie,” I said point blank, and she blushed. “Why is that?”

  “I’m embarrassed,” she whispered. She didn’t look at me for a long time before she finally looked up, and I saw her eyes full of tears.

  “It’s okay,” I reassured her. “No judgment, I’m just trying to get to know you.”

  “Well, I’ve never really had what you’d call a career.” She looked away from me as she talked and the words came hard for her. “I’ve tried a half dozen things over the years but nothing seems to fit for me.”

  “What do you do for money?” I knew it was kind of rude but it just slipped out. She didn’t seem to take offense, though.

  “I have roommates. They cover the taxes and maintenance fees for the apartment.” She glanced at me again, clearly not wanting to say more so I just nodded and looked away. If she didn’t want to talk about it, I wasn’t going to push her.

  “Let’s talk about something else, then,” I said at last. “How do you and your roommates get along?”

  “Fine. Good.” She didn’t turn to look at me and I felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere. “Do you like your roommates?” I smiled at her clumsy attempt to turn the conversation back to me again but I didn’t want to make her cry again, so I let her.

  “It’s okay. I don’t have a lot in common with them.” I went on a sort of semi-rant about how they were younger than me and not very mature even for their ages. After a while, I sensed that Bettie had heard enough about my situation, so I tried again to get her talking. “What about you? Do you and Marcella and…?” I let her know that I couldn’t remember her other roommate’s name.

  “Jacquelin. Jackie.” She hesitated. “They’re really busy with their careers, but when we’re all together we get along really well.” She gave me a look. “They’re really close.”

  Shit. Did I see something in her eyes? I didn’t know whether to push for more info or not, but I was so frustrated I decided to go for broke.

  “How close?” I asked as gently as I could.

  She looked at me again. “Really close.” She cocked an eyebrow. Okay, enough said.

  “Is that a problem for you?”

  “No, it’s not a problem. It’s just…” She looked away again and I wanted to kick myself for making her cry again. This was not going the way I’d hoped it would.

  “Lonely?” I offered.

  “Sometimes.” She didn’t look at me but she did lean against my shoulder. I offered my hand and she took it.

  “Yeah, I can see how that would be tough.” We sat in silence for a long while, holding hands. It was really nice. I said as much.

  “Yeah, it is,” she said with warmth in her voice and then she leaned away and looked up at me. If ever there was an invitation for me to kiss her, this was it. I did, and it was lovely.

  “I don’t want to push you, Bettie,” I whispered when she put her head back on my shoulder. “But I thought about you a lot the past few months. The past year, in fact.”

  She looked up at me again. “I thought about you, too. I really enjoyed talking to you when you used to bring Cuervo. A lot.”

  “Really?” I thought about what to say next but everything sounded wrong in my head. I had no idea - clueless. I was hoping that - while you were dating someone else? Untrustworthy. That’s so cool! - lame. So I kept quiet.

  Until I couldn’t. “I want you to know that I didn’t come here with anything in mind. I didn’t get a dog just so I could find you again.” Shit, that came out all wrong. “I mean, I didn’t…”

  She leaned away from me again and put a finger to my mouth to shut me up, thank god. “It’s okay, Oliver. I get it. And it’s okay.”

 

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