Chapter Seven
Cullen
“Coffee?” Noah asks.
I nod and lean on the breakfast bar while he starts the espresso pouring from the big machine on the counter.
He has two dogs, also German Shepherds, one of which has its hind legs in a wheelchair.
They seem to understand that Ghost is a little reticent, and whenever they’ve met previously they haven’t fussed over him too much, but today they’ve all gone outside into the fenced garden, and it’s nice to see him playing with them.
“I’d offer to make the coffee,” Noah’s wife says, “but he’s the only one allowed near the machine.
” Noah just laughs and starts gathering the mugs.
Abby’s clearly teasing him, and she slides her arms around him from behind and gives him a hug before she says, “I’ll leave you all to it.
I’m researching recipes this morning.” She waves and walks away into the other part of the house.
“Abby runs a cake-making business,” Archer explains.
“Yeah, I’ve seen her TikTok videos,” I reply.
He lifts one of his eyebrows. “You watch cake-making TikToks?”
“I’m a man of many talents.”
Noah chuckles. “She’s got thousands of followers now. She’s doing really well.”
“Where’s Ethan?” Archer asks, naming their little boy.
“I think Flora took him out for a walk over to the Ark. She’s our nanny,” Noah says. “It took me a while to convince Abby to have one, but I think she quite likes having some time to herself a few days a week now.” He looks across at the front door as someone knocks. “It’s open,” he yells.
The door opens, and two guys come in. I know one of them—Leon King, Noah’s half-brother. He’s the head of the Ark’s HR and Finances department. I glance at Archer and see him looking briefly surprised before he smothers it; he hadn’t been aware he was coming either.
“Morning,” Leon says, nodding at us.
“Hey, Leon.”
“Morning, all,” the other guy echoes. He’s in his sixties, tall and broad shouldered, and his hair and beard are completely silver.
He toes off his shoes, then walks barefoot toward us, swapping the briefcase he’s carrying to his left hand, and extends his right. “Archer,” he says. “Good to see you.”
“You, too.”
“And you must be Cullen. I’m Brock King.”
I shake his hand. “Good to meet you at last.”
“Likewise. I’ve heard a lot about you. Doing wonders with the dogs in the Forever Home, I hear.”
Somewhat surprised that he knows who I am, I give what I hope is a modest shrug. “It’s a great place to work.”
“Yeah, Noah’s created a fantastic community over there.”
“Oh, it wasn’t my doing,” Noah says, steaming some milk. “I just had the seed of an idea. It’s everyone else who’s brought it to life.”
“Such modesty.” Brock goes up to him and claps him on the shoulder. “We all know the Ark wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for you.”
“Eh…” Noah just smiles. “Coffee?”
“Please,” they both say.
He makes another two cups of espresso, then pours the steamed milk over it. He pushes them over to us and gestures at the conservatory on the other side of the living room. “Abby’s put out some slices of her lemon drizzle cake. I know I’m biased, but it’s superb.”
“Definitely up for a bit of that,” Archer says.
The five of us take our coffees over to the conservatory, which is an octagonal room overlooking the garden, with wicker chairs and lots of hanging plants. We sit and all help ourselves to a piece of cake.
“Fantastic,” Archer says, munching into his slice. “So moist.”
“She knows it’s my favorite.” Noah pats his stomach. “It’s terrible being married to a cook.”
“It’s just your age.” Brock looks down at his own belly. “My Santa cosplay is coming along in leaps and bounds.” We all chuckle, and he grins. “Okay,” he says, “so we’ve all read your report.”
Archer looks startled. “Wow, that was quick. I only sent it through this morning. I was going to go through it with you.”
“You’re very welcome to expand on any areas, but we wanted to look intelligent and not just stare blankly at you,” Noah says.
Archer gives a short laugh. “Fair enough.”
“There are some fascinating facts in there.” Brock opens his briefcase and takes out a manila folder.
He opens it, and I see Archer’s report there, with the logo at the top that he designed himself—a pawprint in blue and green, surrounded by a gold circle containing the words PAWS Animal-Assisted Therapy Center.
“I like the name,” Noah says. “What does PAWS stand for?”
“We’ve toyed with Petting Animals Works, Seriously,” Archer says, making them chuckle. “But we’re thinking the official name could be the People’s and Animals’ Wellness Society. Something like that, anyway, that reflects the fact that it’s a two-way street. The healing goes both ways.”
“Where hearts and minds are healed, one paw at a time,” I add.
“Aw,” Noah says. “That’s terrific.”
“I can’t claim that. It was Isla’s idea.”
“She’s a vet nurse,” Leon tells Brock. “She’s here over the Christmas period.”
“It’s a great tagline,” Brock says. He leans back and sips his coffee.
“I think we were all obviously aware of the healing power of animals, but this paper has laid it all out in black and white. It would be an amazing service to offer the local community. But obviously it has to be self-sustainable. I hope you don’t mind that I asked Leon to be here today, but I thought he’d have an insight into funding as he’s managed to get the Ark into such a great place over five years. ”
Archer’s a wealthy guy in his own right, and he’s prepared to invest some of his own money into setting up the center, but we both understand that you can’t keep ploughing your own money into a facility like this, so I’m sure he’s pleased that they’ve asked Leon to be involved.
“First,” Leon says, “we want to talk about the extent of the Ark’s involvement in the center.”
Noah nods. “Basically, we understand that it’s your baby, Archer, and just because it might be situated close to us, we don’t want to come in and trample all over it. We acknowledge that you’d be the CEO with sole control over the vision of the center and how it’s run.”
“After saying that,” Brock says, “We Three Kings would like to make a significant investment into it, if you’d like us to.”
Archer glances at me and straightens. “Of course, we’d be open to any and all donations. That would be very generous.”
“We don’t want you to feel that it means we’d want a hand into how it’s spent,” Noah states.
“We’re not precious about it,” Archer says. “We just want to help people. Money is money wherever it’s from, and I’m not going to turn anything down.”
“Okay,” Brock says. “Well, We Three Kings would like to offer five hundred thousand dollars.”
Archer and I both stare at them. It’s so much more than we were expecting. And that’s without any government funding.
“The idea is that it will help secure the initial premises and aid in renovation,” Leon says. “And it should cover initial staffing, equipment, kennels, and therapy rooms, and maybe provide a year or two of operating security while you get grants and clients.”
“It’s an incredibly generous offer.” Archer’s voice is a tad husky. He’s had the idea for this center for a long time, and I think this is the first time he’s actually believed it’s going to come to fruition.
To cover his obvious emotion, I say, “I don’t think Archer’s report mentioned it, but we’ve also talked about an outreach program—the Healing PAWS bus—to take the animals out to rural communities, schools, retirement villages, and the prison. This would help set that up, too.”
“Fantastic idea,” Brock says. “There are so many people in the area who don’t have the means to be able to travel.”
Archer nods. “The thing is that the more we can teach people—children especially—to be kind to animals, it’ll hopefully mean it’ll lead to less rescue animals.”
“Trying to put the Ark out of business,” Noah jokes.
Archer smiles, but the rest of us sigh. We all know that unfortunately it will never happen. There will always be people who mistreat animals, and the Ark will always be needed.
We talk for a while about funding, with Leon explaining ways to build on the initial investments to make sure the business becomes self-sustaining.
“I had a five-year plan for the Ark,” he explains.
“In the end it only took three-and-a-half for it to pay for itself. Then of course you can decide how to reinvest any profit back into the center.”
“It all sounds great,” Noah says. “So… what about staffing? You won’t need vets as such, I’m guessing, but I’m guessing there might be some people at the Ark who’d be interested in helping out?”
“I don’t want you to worry that we’d be filching staff,” Archer jokes. “We’d discuss any movements with you first. I know a couple of therapists who are keen to make the move to a private practice, but obviously we’d need some people to look after the animal side of things, too.”
He leans forward then, cradling his coffee cup. “You mentioned me being CEO with sole control… Well, I have another proposition.”
I have a mouthful of coffee, wondering whether he’s going to ask Noah to run the place with him. It wouldn’t surprise me, although Noah’s more of a visionary, and I think Archer could do with someone more practical.
“I’d like to officially offer Cullen the position of joint CEO with me,” Archer says.
I cough and nearly spray coffee over the table, and they all chuckle.
“What?” I wipe my mouth.
“You must have seen that coming.” Archer looks amused.
I just stare at him. “I honestly had no idea.”
“I want you to run it with me,” he says. “Joint CEOs, me on the therapy side, and you on the animal care side. Come on, Cullen, we came up with the idea together. We’ve developed it over the past six months. We work well together. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather do this with.”
I look at the other three. It’s clear from their expressions that they were expecting this.
“I’m flattered,” I say slowly. “Of course I am. But…” I hesitate.