6
Alittle more to the left.”
Ashanti tugged the ruffled skirt across the front of the ten-inch-high platform, then stopped when Kara yelled, “My left, not your left!”
“Really, Kara?”
“Just leave it where it is, Boss Lady,” Deja said as she sailed past carrying an armful of crowns in various sizes and colors.
“Yeah, Deja’s right. It’s fine where it is,” Kara said. “Besides, we have other things to do. People will start showing up soon. Did you decide if you’re going to double the ticket price at the door?”
“We are not charging people twenty bucks to see a dog pageant, no matter how cute the dogs are,” Ashanti said.
“It’s for charity!”
“No, Kara. We have the silent auction. That will bring in extra money for Budd’s Bed and Bark.”
The last two years the proceeds from Barkingham Palace’s Doggone Cute Pageant had been divided among the various animal rescues around the city, but this year Ashanti had turned it into a benefit for one of her competitors. The Mid-City boarding and grooming spot had suffered a devastating fire. She figured it was good karma, and hoped the same would be done for her business if she ever found herself in a similar situation.
She stepped up on the stage and surveyed the larger play area. She had done her best to achieve the look of the Throne Room at Buckingham Palace while staying within her fifty-dollar decorating budget. They’d covered the walls with red plastic tablecloths from the dollar store and borrowed gold brocade drapes from Deja and Leslie’s great-aunt’s formal living room. Posterboard cutouts of filigree spray-painted in gold completed the look.
“What about the seating for the kids from St. Peter Claver’s Youth Choir?” Kara asked. “Should I rope it off?”
Another thing Ashanti did was pick a youth group to serve as special guests and judges for the pageant. This year’s guest was the choir at the church she’d attended as a child. She hadn’t been to Mass in years, but she still showed the congregation love when she could.
“Run to my office and print up three RESERVED signs. We’ll tape them to the back of the chairs on the first three rows. That should be good enough.”
Everything seemed to be falling into place. Mark and Colleen, the trainer and groomer on staff, were in the staging area with the dogs who would be taking part in today’s pageant. The only thing missing was a certain poodle whose absence had been felt by the entire staff all week, but especially by her sweet Duchess.
It had taken a couple of days for Duchess to recognize something was wrong. She was used to Puddin’ not being around over the weekend, which had been standard before Mrs. Frances went into the hospital, so Ashanti figured that’s what accounted for her lack of concern Tuesday and Wednesday. However, by Thursday afternoon, Duchess wouldn’t go more than ten minutes without running to the door of the small dog play area. At mealtime, she waited at Puddin’s usual spot. Last night, she paced back and forth in Ashanti’s room, a clear sign of anxiety. It was heartbreaking.
Duchess wasn’t the only one missing Puddin’. Kara had sent screenshots of messages they’d received this week from loyal viewers of the webcam who had jumped to the awful conclusion that Puddin’ had crossed over the Rainbow Bridge. When Kara responded that Puddin’ was fine, but no longer attending the daycare, the responses had all been the same, disappointment. Some were even angry, as if they were paying Puddin’s daycare bill and had a say in any of this. Entitlement ran rampant on social media.
Ashanti had considered calling Mrs. Frances and begging her to send Puddin’ back to daycare, free of charge. But she knew it wasn’t her place to get involved. Her grandson was Puddin’s caretaker now, and she certainly would not beg him for anything.
Kara returned with the RESERVED signs and the fake gold and ruby scepter from the chew toy display in the lobby.
“You can’t have a pageant without this,” she said, handing it to Ashanti. “Now, are you sure you can handle going live on Instagram?” she asked.
Ashanti used the scepter to make a cross over her heart. “Promise. I practiced this morning while finishing up the latest order for Duchess Delights. One of the viewers suggested we add CBD oil to them.”
“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Kara said. She pointed an accusatory finger at her. “But you didn’t clear going live with me. Let’s not make a habit of that.”
“Let’s remember who owns this business,” Ashanti said.
“Touché.” Kara taped the last sign to the back of a chair, then spun around to survey the room. “This doesn’t look half bad. I’m sorry I’ll miss it.”
“You have more important things to do,” Ashanti reminded her.
“I know.” She rolled her eyes. “The SAT prep class ends at six, but I might go to the movies after.”
“Is Kendra going with you?”
“Why are you asking when you already know the answer?”
“Invite her to go with you,” Ashanti said.
“Look, I love my twin sister like I love my Nike Air Maxes with the magenta laces, but she is not the best company these days. Besides, even if I begged her to come, she would still blow me off.” She shrugged. “She’s just in a bad mood. She’ll get over it.”
Ashanti knew she was right. But Kendra’s moodiness seemed more extreme these days. She’d been giving her this stank attitude for at least two weeks now, and Ashanti was over it.
“Fine,” she said. “But text me when you get to the movie and when it lets out.”
“Should I text you a pic of the candy I buy from the concession stand?”
“Smart-ass,” Ashanti muttered under her breath.
Once Kara left, Ashanti took out her phone and shot Kendra a quick text.
Kara’s going to the movies after SAT prep. You should go with her. I’ll CashApp you popcorn money.
Her sister replied with the thumbs-down emoji.
Ashanti frowned at the phone. She was so over the moodiness.
She shoved her issue with Kendra to the side and returned her focus to something she could control: today’s pageant. The room had begun to fill with the families of most of their boarders, people from the neighborhood, and even a few she recognized from last weekend’s Geaux for Fi-Deaux Jamboree.
Colleen poked her head out of the door to the temperament testing room, where the dogs participating in the pageant were being held, and gestured for Ashanti to come over. The short brunette, who had always reminded her of Velma from Scooby-Doo, was a genius when it came to training large breeds.
“Are we almost ready?” Colleen asked.
“Almost.” Ashanti peeked at her watch. It was ten minutes to one. “We should be able to start on time. How are the dogs?”
“Mister Miyagi yanked off Chloe’s tutu and tried to make a run for it, but Mark caught him. The rest are enjoying the extra treats they’re getting for good behavior.”
“Let’s keep the Shiba Inu and the bichon frise separated,” Ashanti said.
An uptick in chatter, accompanied by excited gasps and applause, grabbed her attention. Turning to see what had caused it, Ashanti parted her lips in stunned surprise as Thad walked toward her. Her heart did the slightest pitter patter at the sight of him—must be indigestion—but it was the bundle of adorableness at the end of the leash he held that made her spirits soar.
“Puddin’!” She rushed to meet the poodle, dropping to her knees and gathering the dog in her arms.
So maybe he had been right about her becoming too attached, but she couldn’t help it.
“Oh, baby, we’ve missed you!” Ashanti said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Thank you so much for bringing him.”
“Give me that sweet boy,” Colleen said. “We’ve got to get him ready for the pageant.” She looked to Thad. “He is here to take part in the pageant, right?”
Thad nodded.
“Let the audience know we’ll be another ten minutes,” Colleen told Ashanti as she took Puddin’s leash from Thad’s fingers. “And he’s wearing his green bow tie. Excellent choice. Come on, Puddin’. Duchess is going to go bananas when she sees you.”
Ashanti so wanted to peek in on that reunion, but she had mistress of ceremony duties to attend to. She turned to Thad.
“Wait right here,” she said. “Seriously, please don’t leave yet.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
Her head popped back. Had his voice been this smooth and deep on Monday?
She dismissed her unexpected reaction and quickly made her way to the stage. She held her hands out to the crowd.
“Welcome to Barkingham Palace. We are so excited to have you all here for our annual Doggone Cute Pageant. Three years in a row makes it an annual event, right?”
The crowd replied with more applause. She offered a special welcome to their guests of honor and reminded the audience that all proceeds would benefit the rebuild at Budd’s Bed and Bark.
“The pageant will get on the way in another ten minutes. If you haven’t done so yet, be sure to check out the silent auction items on the table to my left. We have custom crocheted sweaters, a gift certificate for a custom painting, and a free night’s stay at Barkingham Palace. And, the best item in my opinion, a month’s supply of Duchess Delights treats.”
She left the stage and headed straight for Thad. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his back against the wall. She experienced that same feeling she’d had on Monday when he stood in the lobby, that he took up too much space. She sensed he was the type who would always take up too much space, no matter the size of the room he occupied.
“So,” she said, leaning her back against the wall and matching his posture. “Do I have to ask the obvious question?”
“I prefer Coke products, but I’ll drink a Pepsi if I’m desperate.”
She hit him with the kind of side-eye she usually got from her sisters when she made a corny joke. His eyes crinkled, but she couldn’t tell if it was the makings of a smile or if he’d gotten dust in them.
“I was told this pageant just wouldn’t be the same if a certain poodle didn’t participate,” Thad answered, then held up his phone. “And my grandmother asked me to FaceTime her so she can see Puddin’ strutting across the stage. I couldn’t say no.”
She was reluctant with her admission, but it had to be said. “That’s actually very sweet,” Ashanti told him.
“I’m not trying to be sweet. I really couldn’t say no. She would probably kick me out of her house if I did.”
A laugh escaped before she could suppress it.
Thad shrugged. “It’s not too much to ask if it’ll make my grandmother happy.”
She found his commitment to Mrs. Frances endearing. It was no secret that he wasn’t Puddin’s biggest fan, yet he’d agreed to care for him because he knew what the dog meant to his grandmother.
Ashanti tipped her head to the side and studied him for a moment as an idea began to take shape.
“What if I offered you a way to make Mrs. Frances really happy?” she asked.
His forehead furrowed with his cautious frown. “How?”
“What would it take to get you on that stage?”
“Not for all the free Sprite in the world.”
She plopped her hands on both hips. “Be serious. Do you know how much Sprite there is in this world? And we’re talking five minutes onstage.”
She didn’t necessarily need him onstage. Honestly, it went against her own policy. After two owners nearly came to blows during their first pageant, she’d decided only Barkingham Palace employees would handle the dogs, but she was thinking as a business owner right now. The combination of a hot guy with a cute dog would do wonders for their social media numbers.
The more Ashanti thought about it, the more she wanted to make it happen.
“It wouldn’t be difficult at all,” she said. “Deja can FaceTime Mrs. Frances. All you would have to do is—”
“Not happening,” he said.
“But—”
Her phone chimed with an incoming text message. Ashanti knew it was Kara before she looked at the screen.
Why haven’t you gone live yet?
Because the pageant hasn’t started yet, Ashanti replied.
WHY NOT?????
Colleen poked her head out of the door again and sent Ashanti a thumbs-up. She returned it before texting Kara back. We’re starting now. Get off Instagram and pay attention to your instructor.
She turned to Thad. “All the Sprite in the universe.”
“Nope.”
He pulled his phone from his back pocket and raised it to eye level, then shook his head. His gaze spanned the room, then he nodded toward the opposite side of the stage. “I think I’ll have a better vantage point over there.”
That’s where she’d planned to stand, so that she could catch both the stage and the kids from the youth choir in the frame.
“I’m not following you,” Ashanti said, doing exactly that. “I have to go live on Instagram and had already planned to shoot from that side of the room.”
He glanced over his shoulder, and she was almost certain she’d spotted a grin. So he was capable of smiling? Who would have thought?
Her elbow brushed against Thad’s arm as she wedged herself between him and the plastic agility bridge. Ashanti refused to acknowledge the brief tingle she felt on her skin. It had nothing to do with him. She’d probably rubbed against poison ivy or something.
“This is why I’m getting a bigger place,” she said. “There’s just not enough room here.”
“Why didn’t you hold the pageant outside?” he asked.
“Because my next-door neighbor would have complained about the noise. It’s starting,” she said. She pulled up the Instagram app. “Have you gotten ahold of your grandmother?”
“Doing it now,” Thad said.
The pageant kicked off with the dogs parading in formal wear. Ashanti’s heart melted at the sight of Duchess and Puddin’. With Duchess in her pink ballgown and Puddin’ in a vest and bow tie, they looked as if they were off to prom.
“I can’t believe I’m standing here watching this,” Thad muttered.
“How could you want to be anywhere else?” Ashanti asked. “They are adorable.”
“Yes, they are,” Mrs. Frances chimed in through his phone. “Thaddeus, you should have been on that stage with Puddin’. You two would have made a pair.”
Told you, Ashanti mouthed. She looked down at her phone and noticed the bevy of translucent hearts fluttering across the livestream. Comments were scrolling up the screen.
“Instagram agrees that the dogs are absolutely adorable,” Ashanti said. She could only imagine what their reaction would have been if Thad had served as Puddin’s dog handler. Probably a lot more fire emojis than hearts.
“Dammit, that’s my physical therapist,” Ashanti heard Mrs. Frances say. “Thaddeus, record the rest of the pageant for me. Do not miss a thing.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t, Mrs. Frances,” Ashanti said.
They had moved to the talent portion of the pageant. Leslie stood in the center of the stage with Baguette and Cannoli, motioning for the dachshunds to twirl. The audience went wild. Little did they know, they too could get dogs to twirl if they hid a chicken-flavored dog biscuit in each hand.
Mark came out with a Hula-Hoop under one arm and Chi Chi, a Yorkie that had only started at the daycare a couple of weeks ago, under the other. He set the dog down in the middle of the stage and she immediately peed.
“Oh no,” Ashanti muttered. She turned the camera to face her. “We’ll have a brief pause in the live broadcast. I promise we’ll be back.”
“I’ve got it,” Deja called, already making her way to the stage with the accident cleanup kit.
“Guess that’s to be expected,” Thad said.
“Probably nerves. This is Chi Chi’s first time onstage,” Ashanti said. She nodded toward the youth choir, who were all falling over themselves laughing. “But kids love gross stuff, so it’s a win.” She looked over at him. “So you’re living in the house in Tremé? Not that I’m trying to get all up in your business,” she quickly added. “But earlier you said your grandmother would kick you out if you hadn’t come today.”
Maybe she was trying to get all up in his business, but instead of calling her on it, he answered.
“Yeah,” he said. “I just moved back to New Orleans and into my grandparents’ house a few weeks ago. It’s my house too. I grew up there.” He glanced at her. “I didn’t mean to be short with you on Monday.”
Ashanti startled at the unexpected subject change. “Umm… okay,” she said.
“I was irritated at having to deal with the dog, and…” He shook his head. “I just wasn’t at my best.”
“Is this your version of an apology?”
“Yes.”
As far as apologies went, it was a two on a scale of one to ten, but at least he tried.
“Apology accepted,” she said. “But I have to ask, is having to look after Puddin’ really that bad? Everyone who has ever met him thinks he’s a sweetheart.”
“I hate that dog,” he said so quickly that Ashanti knew it had to come from a place of deep truth. “We hate each other. It’s been that way since he was a puppy. Whenever I came home on leave, he’d find a way to terrorize me. Piss in my shoes, chew up my phone case. Puddin’ is a menace.”
Ashanti pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from laughing. After she’d collected herself, she said, “I’ll bet it’s a territory thing. You’re the only other male in the family.”
Thad shot her an incredulous frown. “You’re not a dog psychologist or some shit like that, are you?”
She couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. The expression on his face made her want to lie to him, just to see his reaction.
“No, I’m not,” she said. “But don’t knock the discipline. Animal behaviorists play an important role in the relationship between pets and their owners. Maybe you and Puddin’ should visit one.”
Thisexpression was so much better.
“Or… maybe not,” she said, barely able to get the words out.
His brows drew inward as he stared at her with a perplexed frown.
She immediately sobered. “What’s wrong?”
After several moments passed with that frown still marring his brow, he said, “I’m not used to people laughing at me. Other than my best friend, Von, but he doesn’t count.”
It took her a moment to realize that he was serious. She had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing again.
But then the unbelievable happened. The barely there smile she’d glimpsed earlier flourished into an all-out grin. It was beyond devastating.
“Laughing releases endorphins,” she said. “Maybe you should try to do more of it.”
“Is that why you’re still laughing at me?” he asked. “Endorphin rush?”
“I was trying not to,” Ashanti said.
He leaned over and, in a lowered voice, said, “You failed.” The amusement dancing in his eyes softened the rest of his features.
Goodness.
Her phone dinged with a text, dragging her attention away from his intensely attractive face.
Kara:Why aren’t you live? It doesn’t take that long to clean Yorkie pee.
Ashanti startled. Onstage, Colleen was with Hercules, the English mastiff, who was trying to guess which cup she’d hid a rock under. She hadn’t even realized the pageant had started again.
“I need to get back to Instagram,” she said.
She pulled up the app, zeroed in on the stage, and tried her best to push the last five minutes out of her mind.
Thank goodness she had an iron-clad list of reasons why men were off the table, because Mrs. Frances’s grandson had her reconsidering her life choices.
There wasn’t a chance of it happening. Not even a small chance.
After an incident with her last boyfriend nearly jeopardized her guardianship of the girls, Ashanti had decided it wasn’t worth it to get involved with anyone until Kara and Kendra were eighteen and no longer at risk of the courts handing them over to their aunt, her father’s sister, Anita.
Anita was only part of the reason she planned to ignore the butterflies that took flight in her belly when Thad had laid that smile on her. She was just too darn busy to date right now. Raising teenaged twins, running two business, and being a devoted mother to a high-maintenance Frenchie didn’t leave time for much else.
Of course, the most obvious reason she would not allow a nice smile and five minutes of surprisingly enjoyable conversation to affect her was that the man did not like dogs. If ever there was a red flag in her book, that was it.