Pardon My Frenchie

10

Thad took a moment to relish in Ashanti Wright’s discomfort as she mumbled a string of apologies that were made even more entertaining by the fact that she obviously didn’t mean a word of it. He got the sense that being seen as unpleasant didn’t sit right with her, whereas he didn’t give two shits what anyone thought about him. Except for his grandmother and his sister.

For a brief span of time, between last Monday when he first met her and a few hours ago when she’d accused him of buying her house out from under her, he’d cared what Ashanti thought of him. The bitch of it was that he kinda still cared. He should probably work on that.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Sims?” Ashanti finally asked.

“You can call me Thad,” he said.

She folded her arms over her chest. “Can I help you?” she asked.

He tried not to wince.

He was willing to accept that Grams’s dream match between her dog sitter and her grandson would never happen, but the fact that she couldn’t bring herself to use his name stung. It’s not as if he wanted her to like him; he just didn’t want her to not like him.

Okay, that was a lie.

If he took the time to consider what he wanted from Ashanti, ambivalence was at the bottom of the list. Right there with a kick to the groin and a haircut to match Puddin’s.

The current state he found himself in was comically ironic, especially when he thought back to his response to the dozen or so women who had actually wanted to get with him this past year. The appeal just hadn’t been there.

Von accused him of punishing himself, because for some reason, his friend was convinced that Thad believed he didn’t deserve joy.

Was that Ashanti’s appeal? Was he so interested because he knew he had zero chance when it came to her?

And because she was cute as hell with freckles that drove him out of his mind. That was definitely part of her appeal.

He did not have time for this introspection shit right now. And he sure as hell didn’t need to give Von’s ridiculous assessment any more air.

“Hey, so I know I said that Puddin’ wouldn’t be coming to the daycare anymore, but I was hoping you hadn’t given his spot away yet,” Thad said.

Her dog began to bark and twirl around like a chunky ballerina the minute he said Puddin’s name.

“Duchess, sit,” Ashanti ordered. The dog immediately plopped its butt on the floor.

Thad should not have found her commanding tone sexy, but apparently that’s where his brain wanted to take everything when it came to Ashanti Wright.

Impressive. That’s what it was. He couldn’t get Puddin’ to sit on command if he promised that little asshole every dog biscuit in New Orleans.

“Are you Puddin’s new owner?” asked the teenager who had followed Ashanti into the lobby. There was a resemblance between the two. It was probably stronger than it appeared, but Thad was thrown off by the teen’s hot pink–tipped hair and matching hot pink eyeglasses and tennis shoes.

“Kara, get to school,” Ashanti said.

“Going.” She held her hands up in surrender before reaching down to pat Duchess’s head. “See you later, girl.” To Thad she said, “Please bring back Duchess’s boyfriend. She is miserable without him.” To Ashanti she said, “I’ll send you some new label designs in an hour or so.”

“No, you won’t, because you’ll be in class,” Ashanti called.

The teen held her hands up again.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” Ashanti asked.

“I need to put Puddin’ back in daycare. I can’t cart him around with me all day, but he barks constantly if I try to leave him at the house.”

“It’s because he isn’t used to being at home alone,” Ashanti said. “Mrs. Frances has been bringing Puddin’ here since he was a puppy, back when she was still running the dry cleaning business.”

“Yeah, I know,” Thad said. “So can he stay here?” He hooked his thumb toward the door. “I can get him out of the truck right now.”

“He’s outside?” Ashanti asked, aghast.

Just then, the front door opened and the teen, Kara, walked back in. “This guy has Puddin’ in a truck. We don’t do that around here, sir. Puddin’ is royalty.”

“The dog is fine,” Thad said. “The truck is locked and I cracked the window open.”

Kara looked him up and down in the most judgmental way possible. Then she looked to Ashanti. “Are we rescuing Puddin’ or what?”

“I’m rescuing Puddin’. You’re going back to school. Can you take Duchess for me, Deja?” Ashanti handed the leash to the woman behind the reception desk and held her hand, palm up, out to Thad. “Keys, please.”

He sighed. “I’ll go get the dog. Does this mean he can return to daycare?”

“Of course,” Ashanti said. “I didn’t want you to take him in the first place.”

Thad went outside and, in a matter of minutes, was back with Puddin’. The moment the poodle saw the French bulldog, he ran to her and the two began frolicking around the lobby together.

“Look, I know you’re upset about the house, but the owner didn’t mention any other interested buyers.”

She held up a hand. “Forget the house. What’s the deal with Puddin’? Are you only taking care of him for Mrs. Frances, or are you considered his new owner?” Ashanti walked behind the desk without looking at him.

Thad stiffened.

He was trying to soften what he could tell was a big blow to her future plans, but she wasn’t making it easy. He wouldn’t have just let her have the house if he’d known she was interested in it, but maybe he would have continued their search. Von had lined up multiple properties for them to look at.

“So?” Ashanti asked.

“It’s probably best to think of me as his new owner.” Unfortunately.

“Then you will need to fill out this paperwork.” She handed him a purple folder with the Barkingham Palace logo embossed on the front.

Thad opened the folder and took a physical step back. What the hell was all this?

“Can’t you just transfer the information you already have on him? I didn’t have to fill out this much shit when I retired from the Army.”

“Sorry, but the primary caretaker must be on file. When you fill it out, please don’t forget to include two references and two emergency contacts.”

“Two references? I don’t want to apply for a job, I just want you to watch the dog. Why do you need references?”

Ashanti sighed.

“I get that you’re a new dog owner and probably don’t understand their psychology, but dogs tend to mimic the people around them. If you’re not a good person, it rubs off on your pet. Thus, the need to verify that you’re a good person.” She hunched her shoulders. “Of course, I don’t expect that to happen with Puddin’ because he has a strong personality and already gets along with the dogs here. Nevertheless, it’s part of the paperwork. You don’t have to fill out everything right now. You can bring it back when you come to pick him up.”

Just when he thought this place was over-the-top, he learned something else about it that made it even more over-the-top.

“Fine,” Thad said, shaking his head. “Pickup is at six p.m., right?”

“Yes. It’s fifteen dollars for every half hour that you are late, up to eight p.m.”

“But isn’t it sixty bucks for the dog to stay overnight? It makes sense to just leave him here if I can’t get to him by six p.m.”

“You have to book an overnight stay three days in advance. Anything shorter is considered emergency boarding and costs ninety dollars per night.”

There was no way in hell it should cost this much to watch a dog.

“Any other questions?” Ashanti asked.

Thad shook his head.

He heard a whine. It was probably one of the dogs, but could also have been his bank account.

He and Von would have some long days that would bleed into long evenings during reno, especially if The PX was going to open by Veterans Day. He would have to set an alarm to remind him to pick Puddin’ up by six. It wouldn’t hurt the dog to be locked up at the Bywater house for a couple of hours in one of the rooms they weren’t working on.

Thad could hear his grandmother’s voice in his head, cursing him out in the broken creole French she’d learned as a child just for him thinking it would be okay to leave her precious Puddin’ locked in a room.

“Do I need to sign anything before leaving him right now, or is everything in here?” he asked, holding up the folder.

“That’s everything. You can leave a credit card on file, or fill out paperwork so that we can do an automatic deduction from your bank account.”

Yeah, right. That’s all he needed, to wake up and find his account overdrawn because Puddin’ wanted extra high-priced dog treats. He reached in his back pocket for his wallet. He handed the card to the woman behind the desk, his eyes narrowing as he caught the two dogs getting a little too comfortable with each other. They’d been the same way on Saturday.

“Hey, are they both fixed? Because they look like they need a room.”

“All dogs must be spayed or neutered in order to board. And they’re just friendly,” Ashanti said. “Puddin’ and Duchess have been best friends since the day they met.”

“Looks a bit more than just friendly to me,” Thad said. “Looks like Puddin’ has a better love life than I do.”

“Probably because he’s more approachable,” she said.

The receptionist gasped.

“Did I say that out loud?” Ashanti asked. Thad nodded. So did the receptionist. She sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry. That was mean and inappropriate and unprofessional.”

“Three things that you are not,” the receptionist said. She looked to Thad. “She’s actually the nicest person I know.”

“I’m always nice,” Ashanti said. “You’re bringing out the worst in me today.”

And wasn’t that just his luck. Bringing out the worst in her was the exact opposite of what he wanted. But maybe it was for the best.

“It’s probably because he bought the house you’ve coveted for your new location,” offered the receptionist.

Ashanti tipped her head to the side, studying him. “That’s part of it, but I disliked him even before he bought my house.”

“Actually, it’s my house,” Thad said without thinking. She shot him an irritated look.

Thisis why she didn’t like him.

“I’ll be here to get Puddin’ by six,” Thad said. “I promised my grandmother I would bring him by today, even though he’s only supposed to visit on the weekends. She’s already sweet-talked the director into giving her special treatment. This is the second midweek visit since I got him.”

“That sounds like Mrs. Frances,” Ashanti said. She was smiling now. He vastly preferred that to her scowl. Although, even her scowl was cute.

“How is she doing? I’m not being nosy,” she interjected. “It’s just that I never got the full story about what happened to her. We sent her updates about Puddin’ but didn’t get any about her.”

Thad didn’t see the harm in sharing. She was obviously concerned, and he could tell she cared about his grandmother.

“Grams broke her hip and her ankle. Surgery repaired both, but rehab is going to take some time. We got together as a family and decided it was better that she move into an assisted living facility where she can do rehab and then transition into permanent living.”

“And she was okay with that?”

He shrugged. “Her biggest issue was having to give up Puddin’. Once I agreed to move back to New Orleans and take care of the dog, she was in it one hundred percent. Honestly, I think she’s been lonely in that house. She’s already making friends at this new place.”

“That doesn’t surprise me one bit. Your grandmother is one of the sweetest people I know. Please let her know I’m praying for her.”

There was no artifice in her words. She genuinely cared; Thad could see it in her expression.

“I will,” he said.

“Thank you.”

His reaction to her soft smile was a clear indication that he needed to get out of here. Thad turned to leave, but Ashanti’s voice stopped him.

“Mr. Sims?”

He turned back to face her. “You really can call me Thad,” he said.

“Thad,” she amended. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

His hands immediately went to his pockets, but his wallet was there, along with his keys.

Ashanti pointed to the two dogs. “To tell Puddin’ goodbye?”

She had to be fucking with him.

“This is how you develop a relationship with your pet,” she said.

No, she wasn’t fucking with him. She was serious.

“Bye, dog,” Thad said.

Ashanti’s look of disappointment rivaled the one his grandfather gave Thad when he was fifteen and came home with one ear pierced.

He practically growled as he walked over to where Puddin’ and his girlfriend were still all up in each other’s faces. He reached down and patted the stupid puff on top of the dog’s head.

“See you later, you little asshole.”

“Really?” Ashanti said.

Thad shrugged. “Best I can do.”

Then he got out of there before she could hear him laugh.