14. Emily
CHAPTER 14
EMILY
T erry’s four little legs pump along, a final burst of energy before he flops onto the park’s soft grass, where he then pants with satisfaction. His human, Monique, beams at me.
“You’re a miracle worker, Emily,” she says, gathering Terry into her arms. I can’t stop the swell of pride in my chest, warm like a summer sunrise.
“Thank you. It’s just the start now. Remember to practice those commands every day,” I remind her as she clips Terry’s leash back on.
“I will. Promise.” She waves goodbye, and they head off, a pair transformed by patience and trust.
I smile to myself, drinking in the amazing day. Monique is my newest client — thanks to Isaac, who knows her from his country club. And she’s already promised to pass my number on to her friends as well.
It’s just like I hoped for. One client is turning into another… which will hopefully turn into more and more. Fingers crossed it just keeps on snowballing to the point where my every working hour is booked.
And Monique didn’t even blink when I gave her my rate — which is fifty percent higher than what I used to charge. Apparently she feels that I’m worth every cent. And you know what? I’m starting to think I am too. My way with dogs, it’s a special thing, a skill that I’m using to bring a little bit more peace to the world.
Including to the dogs without homes. I’m already looking forward to sending a check to the shelter later this month.
I gather my things — the clicker, the treats, and the worn leash — and make my way to the car. It’s nearing dinnertime, the sky painted in strokes of orange and purple. My dinner will have to wait, though. Isaac wasn’t able to carve out time earlier today for a training session, so we’re starting at six p.m.
My heart stirs, restless as I walk. It’s been a few weeks since our first training session, and yet I’m more nervous at each one. It’s different now, though. I’m not afraid that I’ll fail, and Isaac has proven how committed he now is. Things are going great, overall.
It’s just… seeing him… hearing his voice… it all has this way of making me come completely undone.
It’s a crush that I had hoped would eventually fade, but Issac warming up to Baxter has only made it stronger. Add that day when we fell in the creek, where for a second he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world, and I’ve been a goner ever since. He’s the number one thing on my mind lately.
I slide into the driver’s seat, my fingertips grazing the steering wheel. The phone buzzes — a text from Isaac. Our messages have become a thread weaving through my days, unexpected and colorful. Sometimes flirty.
A smile tugs at my lips; it’s silly how such a small thing can send warmth cascading through me.
See you soon. Drive safe :)
Does he add those extra characters, that smiley face, for anyone else? Or is it just for me? I shake the thought away, but it lingers like smoke that can’t be blown away. I start the engine and pull out onto the road, reminding myself to keep my head in the game.
He’s still my client. This is still a professional relationship. I need to get myself under control.
Heck, for all I know, I’ve been imagining the flirtatious tone in his texts. That could be me projecting or whatever.
The city blurs past, streaks of light against the deepening twilight. My fingers grip the wheel lightly, the hum of the engine a steady beat beneath the rush of my thoughts. Isaac’s building looms ahead, a beacon in the gathering dusk. I park and kill the engine, nerves dancing like live wires under my skin.
I take the elevator up to the penthouse, the soft music playing incongruent to the tempo of my heartbeat. Smoothing my hair, I stand a little taller, knock, and then try to get my breathing under control.
The door glides open, and there he is. Isaac, in a simple tee that clings just right, jeans that seem tailored for him alone. He smiles, that effortless curve that sets my pulse racing.
“Hey.” His voice is the warm embrace I didn’t know I craved.
“Hi,” I manage, hoping my voice doesn’t betray the flutter in my chest. “How, um, how are you?”
His smile softens as he steps aside, inviting me in. “Better now,” he says, his voice just above a whisper. It sends a shiver down my spine. I follow him inside, the door closing behind us like the ending of some unknown chapter.
The penthouse smells like him — citrus and fresh linen — and there’s something so rich about the fragrance that it sends my mind spiraling back to the first time I walked in here. It wasn’t even a month ago, but it already feels like another lifetime.
“Where’s Baxter?” Usually, the dog comes running to the door.
Isaac’s brow creases. “Uh… good question.”
“Baxter?” I call.
“Baxter?” Isaac goes down the hallway, looking in rooms until he reaches the last one. A smile breaks across his face.
“What?” I join him in the doorway, only to find Baxter fast asleep in the laundry room on a pile of towels.
“Aw.” I press my hands to my chest.
Isaac lingers in the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest, a soft chuckle rumbling from his throat. “Yeah,” he says, “that is pretty adorable.”
Hearing us, Baxter opens his eyes and lifts his head. A low, delighted bark fills the room as he bounds over to us, tail wagging furiously.
“There he is!” Isaac says, crouching down to scratch behind Baxter’s ears. His jeans stretch taut, highlighting the strength of his thighs, and I can’t help but watch, caught by him all over again.
“Is this his spot now?” I ask, forcing my eyes back to Baxter.
“Sometimes. He just loves the warmth from the dryer.” Isaac shrugs, grinning when Baxter begins to lick his hand.
The moment seems so tender and raw; it knocks the breath from my lungs. The man of high towers and stronger walls is transformed into a soft-hearted man who kisses his dog’s head.
“What?” he asks, noticing my gaze.
I shake my head slowly. “It’s just… you seem to actually like him now.”
Isaac looks sheepish. “He’s grown on me. You were right. He is a good dog. I was the one who was doing things wrong.”
“I don’t think I put it that way…”
“But I am.” He stands and leads us into the living room. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’m okay, thanks. You ready to get started?”
Am I imagining his disappointment? If it’s real, what is it over? I’m here to train the dog, not do anything else… right?
Turning away under the guise of digging out treats from my bag, I hide my pink face. I really need to get myself together.
We jump into the familiar routine, going through all the standard commands. They’re a team now, Isaac and Baxter. In sync. It’s beautiful to watch. Isaac gives a command, Baxter obeys. Seamless.
“Good boy!” Isaac praises, and Baxter beams up at him with all the love in the world.
“Looks like you won’t need me much longer,” I say, half-joking, but the words tumble into the room heavy with truth.
“Emily, don’t say that,” Isaac replies, but he knows it too.
There’s a tightness in my throat. This is why I do this — to see human and dog grow, bond. Yet, each success is a goodbye waiting to happen. Sooner or later, Isaac and Baxter won’t need me anymore, and there will be no reason for me to see them. Our time together will be over.
I look away, watching the city lights flicker alive outside the window, feeling the weight of every ending nestled in my chest. A lump forms in my throat, but I push it away. Later, alone in my bedroom, I’ll let the feelings rise up. But not here. Not now.
“Let’s try something new,” I suggest, clinging to the moment, desperate to stretch the seconds into hours.
I reach down, fingers grazing the soft fabric of the treat bag. Isaac’s hand is there too, skin against mine in an electric slide of contact. My breath hitches. I look up, meet his eyes. Blue swirled into green like deep ocean waters, they hold a question I’m not ready to answer.
“Sorry,” we both mutter.
“Hey…” He clears his throat.
“Yes?” My breathing hitches.
“I want to?—”
The room plunges into darkness, and I gasp in shock at just how dark it is. It’s not just Isaac’s apartment or building, though. Thanks to the huge living-room windows, we can clearly see that it’s the whole city.
“A blackout,” Isaac says.
“Yeah.” How is that for timing?
I bite my lip, wishing I could ask him what he’d been about to say, but knowing that I don’t have the courage. Baxter presses his side against me, and I reach down to burrow my fingers into his thick fur.
“Let me find some light,” Isaac says, voice close but moving away.
I nod before remembering he can’t see it. “Okay.”
We shuffle, fumble. A dance of two people and one dog lost in a space they thought they knew. My arm brushes Isaac’s chest, solid and warm. My heart races — too fast, too loud. Can he hear it? Feel it?
“Sorry,” he says as our knees bump.
“Same,” I whisper back, the word barely escaping.
This crush, this foolish, impossible thing, it swells in the dark. Grows teeth and claws. Wants more than I should give. He’s a client. Just a client.
But, oh, how the shadows make us bold. What would happen if I were to reach out and touch him? How would he respond? Would he push me away or draw me close — press his lips to mine and…
“Got them,” Isaac announces, a small triumph as matches strike and candles flicker to life, pushing away the gloom.
Baxter’s eyes glow in the candlelight, watching us. He seems cautious, like he doesn’t know what to make of this weird change.
The light from the candles casts Isaac’s face in a soft glow. Shadows play on his jaw, a dance of warm and dark. “I guess we should call it a night for training.”
“Yeah… kind of hard to get much done in the dark.”
“Maybe we can just… order some takeout?” His question hangs between us, an invitation I hadn’t expected.
I blink, unsure if I heard him right. I had been about to pack up my things and pet Baxter goodbye, and now he’s asking me to stay. Even though we’ve been texting here and there, we haven’t hung out together. Any time spent in person has revolved around training Baxter.
“Takeout?” I repeat, my voice betraying my surprise.
“Yeah.” He smiles, and it’s disarmingly genuine. “Why not? Assuming anyone is open. I can call around and see.”
My heart stutters. Takeout could mean nothing; it could just be an invitation to share a meal, to keep me a little longer so I don’t need to drive home without working streetlights. But the flicker in his eyes, the way he doesn’t look away, suggest it might be something more.
“Is this a date?” The question slips out before I can catch it. It’s a stupid thing to ask, so inappropriate, but it’s too late to take back, and now it’s floating in the candlelit space.
“Only if you want it to be,” he answers, his tone a gentle tease that doesn’t match the intensity in his gaze. “I would like that very much.”
A date. With Isaac. It’s a thought that sends a thrill through me. Maybe our time together doesn’t need to come to an end when the dog training does.
It feels unreal, though. Isaac… wanting to have a date with me ? We’re from two different worlds.
And yet that doesn’t matter. Job titles, money, who we know, where we come from. None of that is really important. I know it, and I think he feels the same way, because if he didn’t, we wouldn’t be here right now.
“Okay,” I say at last, giving in to the moment, to the possibility. “Takeout sounds nice.”
His smile widens, and I realize that endings aren’t always bad, because when one thing closes, it leaves space in the world for something else to start.