14. My Rebel Side #2
“Exactly! I talked to Ava after they left and got a few more details. She said the show is looking into places here that won’t require permits from the city or closures. Places they’ll use occasionally, for shoots, where the characters would go with their dogs. Including a pet supply shop.”
I’ve been thinking about that since she mentioned it this afternoon, and I can picture the scene perfectly.
“That could be the front counter at Dog Tails. Lots of pet supply stores have dog play areas, so the daycare could be a play area in a shop, and we already have the front counter set up with treats and dog bags and stickers and stuff to purchase, so it could double as the counter at a shop.”
“Yes! That’s perfect.”
“How do we get it to be Dog Tails though? And not something in another town, or another set in Los Angeles?” I ask. Because landing this possibility would be a huge boon—like a guarantee of future business. But we need to offer the producers what they want.
“I talked to Ripley this afternoon. And her sister, Haven,” Chloe says, then adds, “the actress.”
“Right. Haven Addison.”
“Yes. And since I have a meeting with the show already about potentially being a dog trainer—Linus, the mayor, set it up—maybe I can bring you along?” She asks it like it costs her something. Pride maybe.
And shit…I’ve kind of been an ass. “That would be great. I can pull some numbers, put together a proposal,” I say, thinking back to my days working with my father, and how we tackled opportunities like this. “My dad and I ran a management consulting business before I did this.”
“That sounds like a made-up job.”
I laugh lightly. “It kind of does.”
“Like, did you just tell people how to run their businesses?”
“Essentially. We worked with companies and executives to develop strategies for efficiency, cost reduction, and improved revenue.”
Her eyes flutter closed. “Sorry, I fell asleep.”
“Trust me, I get it. There’s a reason I went into a new business—focused on dogs. But my point is, I’m used to talking to all sorts of businesses about business.”
“So basically, you were a professional professional?”
I laugh. “Nailed it.”
“You might be helpful to have in this meeting then,” she says.
She’s right. I think I would. But at the same time, I don’t want to step on her toes. Or mansplain. Or take over. Especially after her comment last week about the most male thing. “But this is your town and your contacts, so you tell me how I can assist.”
She nods a few times, as if she’s giving it some thought. “Can you do that thing you just did?”
“When you pretended to fall asleep?”
“Yes, use those business terms and stuff that money people like. Revenue and blah, blah, blah. I think that could help us.”
“I can definitely do that,” I say.
“Good. But let’s not pitch too hard. We’ll have to take the temp of the meeting. See how it goes.”
She’s good at this too. “I’m with you on that.”
She takes another drink, then shoots me a quizzical look. “Hey, question for you. I wondered this earlier but didn’t have the chance to ask. How did you know I had a meeting about being the dog trainer?”
“Everyone at Dog Tails has been talking about it,” I say.
“Sheesh. Does everyone know everything in a small town?” she says, but it’s rhetorical, judging from her tone. It’s also said with fondness for this place.
“Seems that way,” I say, but I also sense a chance for me to dig myself out of the asshole-hole I seem to keep putting myself in.
“They’re proud of you. They want to see it happen.
” I weigh whether to say the next thing, but then decide it’s just good business to be supportive of a co-worker, so I add, “And so do I.”
Her smile softens more. “Thanks. This is important to me. I…” She stops, licks her lips, then winces. “I really need this to work out.”
I think back to what she said that night in San Francisco. How she was fired when her ex sabotaged her at work. I can hear the vulnerability in her voice, too, the way she’s giving a nod to what she shared without saying the painful words.
“I hear you,” I say, holding her gaze, but also sensing a chance.
This is my chance to help her and to help myself.
To make up for the assumptions I falsely made last week.
“We’re going to do this, Chloe. We’re going to make this happen.
I’ll do some research, come up with some ideas, and we will knock their fucking socks off. ”
“You’re confident,” she says, but it’s not a dig. It’s said with some relief.
“I know what I’m good at.”
“Business?”
And…that’s too tempting. “Business,” I say, lifting my drink, bringing it close to my mouth. But I don’t drink yet. I just make sure her eyes are on mine. “And other things.”
A gust of breath crosses her lips, and she shakes her head, but it’s clear she’s amused this time. “Well, I know about the other things. I guess we’ll have to see how you are at business.”
“It is on,” I say as Esmeralda heads our way with our food.
After she sets down the twin orders, she whispers, “There’s a vibe.”
But before Chloe can protest, she’s off again, calling out to a new customer, “What can I get for you?”
Chloe turns to me with a shrug. “She’s a troublemaker.”
“Takes one to know one,” I tease.
“Very true.”
I pick up a fry. “Let’s see if these are as good as the ones at The Resort.”
“We can rate French fries,” she says with enthusiasm for our new game.
“We can grade the whole meal. You up for it?”
“I’m in,” she says.
And we eat and grade, and it feels like a tacit acknowledgment of that night. But with a focus on a new understanding—that we’re chasing the same business dream.
When the meal is over, I gesture to our empty plates. “What about dessert rights? Are we vying for them this time?”
“Maybe,” she says, eyeing me like she’s sizing me up. “But do we have to say who had the worst day this time?”
“Hell no. Let’s come up with a new challenge.”
“Who’s better at painting?” she offers.
“It’s me,” I say, tapping my chest.
“Please. I aced the corner work.”
“I excelled at the baseboards.”
“I picked fantastic colors.”
“True,” I say, since her place looks amazing.
But I’ve got another idea. One that might also help me make better amends for my first day at Dog Tails.
“How about who’s better at bringing a treat to work tomorrow?
You did the coconut bread last week. I’ll bring something tomorrow, and we’ll see which is eaten faster. ”
Her hazel eyes flash with excitement. “I love it,” she says, but lifts a finger. “Only how does that determine who gets dessert rights tonight? Don’t screw me over on dessert, Dumont.”