Puppy Love: A Contemporary Small Town Spicy Queer Workplace Romance Novel (Greenrock Valley Series B

8. Monetized Friendship

eight

Violet

“You want to correct that.” I take the leash from Hayden’s hands, tugging upward slightly so that the perfectly white dog attached to the other end looks me in the eye. “Sniffing things will get you an immediate failure on the public access test.”

He gives me a charming grin.

“I know,” he says, holding his hand out. I place the leash back into his palm, and his long, thick fingers tighten around it. “Major’s just really curious. Do you think he’s going to make it?”

Hayden’s voice heightens as the question slips out, his brows sewn together in worry.

When Adrian overheard that I used to be a dog trainer, they asked if I’d be willing to take on their friend Hayden as a client. Even though I already had enough to deal with at the time—my impending divorce, and fifty-hour weeks running a pet resort while Angela vacations in Thailand (and Hawaii, and Costa Rica)—I figured it would be good for me to do something I love, especially if I’m getting paid for it.

I’ve thought about it, starting my own training business. But I can’t imagine the demand in Greenrock is high enough, and besides, I don’t want to end up like Angela. If you have to turn into a total monster to live off your business, I don’t want anything to do with it.

Still, working with Hayden makes the idea seem possible, sometimes. He’s the perfect client. He only wants private sessions, and everything I say to him sticks in his brain. He works with Major for hours between appointments and tracks his improvement in some goal app. Even though I’ve volunteered to train the world’s most stubborn poodle to be a medical alert service dog, every moment is enjoyable because of him. I’m not sure if it’s his dedication, his personality, or a mix of both, but Hayden is just a pleasant guy to be around. And next to Al, he’s the closest thing I have to a friend. Even though it’s through hourly payment.

It’s not like I’m bad at making friends. I’m great at it, actually. I’m great at being other people’s friends that is. The part where you actually let others know things about you? That part I suck at. But to give credit where it’s due, Hayden sure does try.

I look down at Major, who is still staring at me with laser-like focus. His pupils dilate, his eyes fixated on the meaty treat in my hand. The white top knot on his head has grown out some since I saw him last, and it’s beginning to hang over his eyes.

“He’s kind of a dick,” I say, giving him his well-earned reward. “But he’s going to make it. Maybe he’s not listening because he can’t see.”

“Yeah, I know. He’s got an appointment scheduled with Cam soon. How’s she doing by the way?”

The concern in Hayden’s voice seems to have eased, his fingers gliding through the mound of white fluff on Major’s head. Hearing Cam’s name come from his mouth catches me off-guard. I don’t know why, but every time I think about her, I start to feel… overheated.

Well, maybe I do know why.

Maybe, it’s because of the fact that I know what her tongue feels like inside my mouth. I know all about the curve of her waist beneath my fingertips. Maybe it’s because I’ve had to pretend it never happened while simultaneously not being able to get it off my mind. It’s been a long time since I’ve touched anyone in that way, or even looked at them, and though Cam is completely off the table, there’s no rule saying I can’t reminisce on the interaction. So long as I don’t let another stupid sentence slip out of my mouth.

“She’s good.” I shrug.

Hayden looks up at me, the cool beam from the fluorescent store lights making his indigo eyes shimmer. That charming smile returns to his face.

“Look, I know you’re a pretty private person. But with the whole Mallory thing—“ I cringe at her name. “Sorry, with the whole… you know… divorce and stuff… it’s just really important to have friends to support you.”

I furrow my brows. “What makes you think I have no friends?”

“Listen, Vi, I’m just worried about you. I’m pretty sure I’m like the only person you talk to, and I know I’m amazing—”

A prickly heat flushes in my cheeks, defensiveness taking over me.

“I talk to other people!” I attest, like by “other people” I don’t mean the occasional conversation with Ruthie or Al.

“You need other people too. And I think you and Cam could really hit it off. You two, like, need each other. You know, she also got chea—”

I don’t need to hear any more of this. I don’t want to hear any more of this. Cam is an employee, and it’s better we don’t even consider crossing that line. Again. I’m doing just fine on my own, and besides, I don’t need anyone else thinking there’s more to it.

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

I keep walking forward, pretending to look at the different tubes of deodorant lining the aisle, so I don’t have to look at Hayden. He follows next to me, and Major trots seamlessly beside us, focusing his attention on his handler. Hayden shrugs.

“Okay. Not going to force it. But, think about it,” he says, continuing to the end of the aisle.

Truthfully, these bi-weekly training sessions have been my motive lately, the thing I look forward to.

Getting to hang out with Hayden and develop a dog that can save his life always makes me feel better about my own. I’ve considered asking him to hangout outside of the sessions, but I’m not sure how to go about it. Plus, I can’t help but be wary of how things will end.

I didn’t realize I was friendless until Mallory and I split. Everyone I called a “friend” happened to be Mallory’s friend first, so there wasn’t anyone to run to when I found a string of texts describing the seemingly mind-blowing sex she had with one of her clients.

Apparently a six-session hip-hop package included a Free Fuck coupon. They didn’t just take Mallory’s side; they chastised me for telling her to leave the house. The house that I pay for.

Discovering all of my friends weren’t really mine was a big blow, until I realized it actually wasn’t. It occurred to me, after the initial shock of their two-faced cruelty, that I had never actually opened up to them anyway. I spoke about my job, and Mallory, and the trails I wanted to hike that month, and I called them my “friends,” but I never actually talked to them. Not about things that mattered. And that wasn’t a choice they made. It was mine.

I watch Major intently as the white poodle parades around the bakery section. He’s brilliant, and his only weakness so far seems to be food. I’ve gotten him to ignore cats, birds, children, and even sirens. At nine months, he has already learned to alert when his handler’s heart rate increases too rapidly. But when Major smells anything that could be even a little bit edible, his nose goes wild.

Today, however, he seems to be doing well. The leash is loose, and his front feet are parallel with Hayden’s, his eyes fixated on the man. Hayden grins from across the table of baked goods between them and gives me a cheesy thumbs up. I return the gesture and walk further away from the duo to give them space. I’m not training Major. I’m training Hayden totrain Major.

Consequently, hovering will only stunt their growth as a team. I step in when and where I need to and let Hayden take the reins. It’s his service dog, after all.

Major’s nose twitches, different scents of flour and almond and sugar wafting into his nose, but he never breaks his gaze from Hayden. They loop around the section three more times before approaching the corner I’ve been lingering in, pretending not to stare.

“Did you see that?!” Hayden asks excitedly. If he were any happier, he might bounce off the walls. I can’t help but let a smile take control of my face. I’ve really missed this. The adrenaline people get when their dogs accomplish things they didn’t think they could.

“Yes. It was pretty dang good.”

“Do you think he’ll be ready for his PA test in December?”

I ruffle my hands through Major’s top knot. “I do.”