Chapter 17 Puppy Love （Lena）
XVII
Puppy Love
(Lena)
I am scared.
Over the next week, everything snaps into place like a well-oiled hinge.
Any other time, I’d be tempted to think this life is too good to be true.
Call it cynical, but living taught me to be.
But with Brady, I don’t have the heart to be all stone and thorns. Not when he’s painfully sweet, going out of his way to make sure everything is as easy for me as possible.
Not when there’s Ezzie and Pawsome Hearts and the rest of my life to plan.
She’s approved of my financials and even agreed to help me interview a new vet doctor looking to buy in and partner up.
Everything is going the way it should, and that’s the problem.
Even Harry hasn’t shown his ugly, sneering face since Brady stepped in and ejected him from my property.
My pride hates that I needed a big, strong man to chase away my nightmare, but my inner princess adores the freedom. Without Brady charging in, I’d have a ten-ton boulder pressing down on my neck and nowhere else to turn.
“There is something unusual,” Dr. Ezzie says as we walk to the boarding building together.
“Unusual how?” Instead of tensing up like usual with doubt, I just glance at her, waiting patiently.
“A letter.” She waves a hand and shakes her head. “It’s probably nothing, this notice about a plumber who didn’t file his permit paperwork right back when we had a pipe replaced. I think it was three years ago.”
“Three years?” I whistle. “Doesn’t this city have anything better to do?”
“That’s code enforcement for you—and they’re slapping me with a large fine. I don’t think it’s anything for you to worry about, necessarily.” She gives me a tired but genuine smile. “Things are looking up. Frankly, this is the first time in years I’ve had to turn clients down.”
I try not to blush, though we both know the reason for this new wind at our backs.
Brady Pruitt.
News of our engagement spread fast, including my entire life story. When Dr. Ezzie hit me with fifty questions about why I didn’t tell her that nice young man with the corgi was my nice young fiancé, I had to throw together the most awkward lie of my life.
Pathetic.
But it’s weird knowing my engagement with Brady is the only reason people are beating down our doors.
I mean, it’s awesome and all. There’s no good reason to get upset over more business. And the newcomers love our personal touch, minting many happy new cats and dogs.
Fine.
What’s not fine is having lies multiplying like rabbits.
If that’s really a sin, I’m going to superhell.
I didn’t think buying Pawsome Hearts would cost me my soul, but whatever.
There’s no denying how lovely it is to see Dr. Ezzie smiling and breathing lighter. It’s like I can see more light in her eyes, the stress melting away.
Our only real problem today is an adorable black Lab named Queenie whom we’re boarding. She’s a gorgeous girl, so friendly and loving.
Only, just this morning we got a call telling us her mom died from an untimely heart attack while she was away on a business trip.
The relative on the phone was panicked, saying they couldn’t take the dog, not even for a little bit, with a special needs child and an elderly cat in the house.
My heart twists like a rag in my chest.
I know better than anyone how deeply animals feel sudden changes, dogs especially. How deeply they can hurt.
To think poor innocent Queenie no longer has a home as she scampers around madly at the sight of us almost breaks me.
She’s ten years old, too—not that you’d know it with her dynamo energy.
“Hey, old gal. How are you feeling today?” Dr. Ezzie holds out her hand for Queenie to lick enthusiastically.
The Lab whines with excitement, her thick tail wagging like mad.
“Poor girl,” I murmur, stroking behind her ears.
She really is a sweetheart.
There’s grey around her muzzle. I wonder who would pick her over a younger, sprier dog, even if Queenie can wag with the best of them.
“We’ll figure something out,” I vow.
Dr. Ezzie glances at me. “I know you will, Lena. You don’t let up.”
I also feel too much.
The hum of an engine reaches our ears then, and even though it’s only been a week, my heart lurches.
Brady.
Simmer down.
It’s becoming a thing, where Brady picks me up after work to whisk me back home or off to his condo.
Oh, Gran can’t get enough of seeing us disappear into my house. I caught her smiling and laughing a few times from her front porch. I know she’s not out there every day that late just for a little sunset gardening.
The car pulls up, then Brady climbs out of the driver’s side.
Screw you, heart.
I hate that he’s putting it through acrobatics.
But it’s determined to remind me that I have a thing for my fake fiancé, and it’s devastating.
When he sees me, he waves and walks over.
“Hey, Lena.” He steals a kiss before he glances at Dr. Ezzie, whose hand is still being loved on by Queenie. “Who’s this?”
“Our latest crisis.” Dr. Ezzie scratches the old girl behind her ears, and Queenie groans happily, her tail smacking Dr. Ezzie’s legs. “Her owner died and nobody can take her, I’m afraid. So, we’re currently looking for another solution.”
“Oh shit. I hate to hear it.” Brady slides an arm around my waist as he thinks.
“We don’t want to send her to a shelter at her age,” I say.
“No way.” There’s a gruffness in his voice even as he holds out his hand for the curious Lab to sniff. Her bright brown eyes fix on him. “Damn, well, why don’t we take her? She can stay at my place.”
“What? With everything going on?” I probably shouldn’t be so stunned after he stepped up for Charlie, but I can’t help it.
Warmth spreads through my chest.
“She needs a good home, and I have the network to find her one. People will line up for days after I post about her a few times.” He gives me that cocky grin, and for once I don’t blame him.
Dr. Ezzie looks at me, her eyes dancing.
Right. This is obviously my decision. She’s letting me deal with the little things, a warm-up to the big, scary decisions involving the entire clinic once it’s mine.
Fair enough.
I mean, I insisted we couldn’t just pack her off to a shelter. I’m also the one who took the call from her owner’s relative.
The warmth in my chest strikes a fire as I watch Brady hoist her up on two legs, scratching the Lab’s neck until she’s in heaven. There’s a very good chance I’m going to be burned.
I’m not sure if I care.
“Okay,” I say softly. “If you’re serious—if you really mean it—you can take her today.”
“Awesome. Any paperwork to sign? And if she has any leftover bills, of course, I’m happy to cover them.”
Oh, of course.
It’s not fair that this man proves gentlemen aren’t extinct.
Dr. Ezzie leads him back through the kennels to the clinic building. I linger behind, bending down to bury my face in Queenie’s neck, just breathing soft doggy fur.
She makes a low, uncertain grumble.
“Watch out for him, girl. He’s too nice, and I don’t know what to do about it,” I whisper.
Queenie whines.
“I know, I know. It’s just a lot.” I lean back, running a hand all the way down her neck.
She watches me with those adorable whale eyes.
You think that’s a lot? I’ve got to find a whole new home.
“Yeah, you’re right. You’ve got it rougher than I do. But he’ll treat you like the Queenie you are, and so will your new parents, once we find them. I promise.” I can’t quite bite back the smile.
Queenie dances around in a circle as I work on packing up her stuff: one big grey bed, a few toys with teeth marks, and her bowls.
Nothing else.
No other pieces of her old life.
It’s depressing, even if I know she’s in good hands.
But we have to move forward.
I shake my head, pushing the dark thoughts away.
If there’s anyone in this city who can help her find a loving new family who accepts what she is, it’s him. Brady Pruitt, instant best friend to an aging, happy, slightly dopey black Lab with worn teeth, worse breath, and a heart that’s overflowing.
When he comes back from reception, swaggering in with his eyes glowing and his stubble neatly trimmed, I’m ready to roll.
“I’ll have Luis round up what she needs and drop it off at my place,” he says as I help her into the trunk of the SUV. Despite her age, she’s still got lift, jumping in easily.
“Luis on pet-run duty?” I tilt my head at him. “I think he’s right. You’re the worst boss.”
He snorts. “If you think the worst I’ve done is send my assistant out to get some dog food and treats, you’re deluded.”
“What if he’s busy?”
He makes a big show of checking his watch. “It’s barely three o’clock. Besides, he can pick it up on the way back to my condo.”
“What’s he doing now? Bringing your suits back from the dry cleaner?”
“Shopping to upgrade my studio. We’re always looking for new tech for better videos.” The corner of Brady’s mouth twitches. “I told him to bring back Indian food for dinner. I don’t like to use the apps when I can just tip my main man with his own meal.”
“And then you’ll lock him in the basement until you let him out for another day’s work, right? Or will he be taking Queenie outside too?”
His penthouse is pretty high up. That’s why he had Charlie staying with his parents in that massive Lake Washington estate with the lushest dream backyard.
I can’t help making sure he has no second thoughts about what he’s getting into.
“He’ll be sleeping on the balcony where he belongs,” Brady jokes. I think. “And no, I’ll take her. Takes a little while to get to the park up the street, but I can always use another excuse for some fresh air.”
I laugh at the absurdity, like he doesn’t go out all the time, though my stomach clenches a little.
“What’s that look?” Brady grabs my hand and brings it to his lips.
“You. I just don’t want you putting yourself out with all the other craziness going on . . .”
“The ruse, you mean,” he whispers.
“. . . Yeah.”
“It’s not like taking in an old Lab will blow up anything. We’ll find Queenie a real home soon. She’s a sweet girl.”