Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 136559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
There’s just that day after I return from the road trip when I’ll need to hustle up to Charlie’s home, which is an hour away. I’ll have to get the critters so she can deal with her stuff, but I’ll be cutting it close since I have a luncheon with a sponsor. Tyler offered to help out if I need it. But I can probably get on one of those dog-sitter apps and find someone to transport them.
Yep. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll download an app when my eyes are in. I uncap the left lens as my phone trills. It’s Charlie. She never calls—always texts. This can’t be good. I swipe to answer, blinking away the sting that comes with the first lens of the day.
“What jail are you in, and how quickly do you need me to find a lawyer?” I ask, half joking, but already on edge.
“I’m in expansion jail. And if you can find my business lawyer, that’d be great.”
There’s definitely something wrong. I straighten, turning away from the contact lens case. I’ll put the other one in after this call. “What’s going on?”
“So, you know how we were going to share dog-sitting duties for the four horsemen of the apocalypse?”
“Yes,” I reply, already wary. I know where this is headed.
“I have to go to Los Angeles to oversee the expansion there. Some issues with permits and stuff. I’m so sorry.”
I drag a hand down my face. “Shit.”
“I know. I feel terrible. But I’ll help you find a dog-sitter. I promise. I know we can’t board them.”
“Understatement of the century,” I mutter, since the pack can’t handle boarding. Boo was banned from the dog hotel because he tried to hump all the other guests. He’s neutered, of course, but no dog likes a rando canine’s come-ons. Add Boppity’s anxiety and Bippity’s sneaky Houdini ways and the pack spells trouble at the dog inn.
“Maybe Birdie can help out?” Charlie suggests.
“That’s an option.” Birdie’s pretty busy with High Kick, but she could help me out a night here and there. I’ll keep that in my back pocket.
“Let me make some calls. But if you know anyone, let me know.”
“I can ask around,” I say before hanging up.
I wash my hands, clean the lens, and pop it in.
Time to solve this problem. Just like I taught myself to cook when Dad left—I get things done. And now it’s on me to make this happen.
First stop, my brother’s place. I swing by, pick him up, and the second he slides into the car, he harrumphs.
“What’s going on?” I ask. I want to ask him to help out more with the four tiny terrors, but he’s got his hands full with his own kids, as well as making his mark with a new team.
“You have no idea how hard it was to get the kids to school this morning. They heard we were visiting dogs, and now Luna’s begging me to bring one home.”
“Well, maybe you’ll find one for her.”
He shoots me a withering look. “I’m barely keeping it together. I can’t add another mammal.”
And clearly, I can’t ask him to help chauffeur them. “You’re doing a good job managing,” I say, since he needs the encouragement, and really, it’s not fair to ask him to help with the dogs after we return with everything he has on his plate. I’ve got to handle this for Mom, like I promised I would. She deserves to go on that cruise. And she’s leaving in two days so I need to solve it fast. I can’t drop the ball. Not when it matters to her, and not when Charlie’s in a real bind. It’s a lot, but I’ve done it before. And I’ll do it again.
When we arrive at Little Friends, I shove that worry aside for the moment. Time to focus on the team and the work we’re trying to do in the community. But once we’re inside the shelter, my focus snaps instantly and irrevocably to the brunette with the camera waiting in the dog playroom. One glance at Leighton, playing with a frosty-faced old dog who happily seems to melt into her affection, and my heart does funny things.
An insistent longing tugs at my chest, but I do my best to push it down, dismissing all these feelings as she shoots pics. I keep it together as Tyler, Asher, Max, Wesley, and Rowan pose for pictures—with a Frenchie with its tongue hanging out, an Aussie Shepherd who has arthritis, and, as the shelter manager tells us, a Lab-Border Collie mix recovering from an ACL tear.
That comment catches my attention just as I lock eyes with Leighton. Recognition, sympathy, understanding—they all pass between us in that fleeting moment. “He’ll find a good home,” Leighton says softly, just for me.
And that doesn’t help my efforts to keep it together.