4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Addy
“Come on, Bruno. It’s just a leash,” I say to the little Chihuahua mix, who happens to be one of my most ornery clients.
He hides beneath his owner’s table, peering up at me, and lets out a miserable growl.
I sigh, holding the pink leather leash in my hand. I don’t blame him for not wanting me to clip it on his collar. The pink hardly matches his ferocious personality, but his owner insists that pink is for all dogs of his size.
“It’s not my fault you have to use this thing,” I tell him, kneeling down and peering under the table at him. “I wouldn’t want to, either.”
He tilts his head at me. His massive, tent-like ears are way too big for his little brindle head. He doesn’t growl at me this time. Instead, he full-on barks.
I tip my head back, frustration building in my chest. “We still have to pick up other dogs, little buddy. You’ve gotta come along now. I have to eat, too.”
His big brown eyes stay focused on me, and I’m thankful that Miss Louise isn’t here right now to see this. She’d probably be hovering over me, her fiery red hair all piled up on top of her head as she berates me for scaring her dog. She thinks little Bruno can do no wrong.
“You’re spoiled,” I inform him with a sigh. I stand to my feet. It’s musty and stale in the dining room, and I cough as I retreat from the space. I don’t want to have to tell Miss Louise I skipped Bruno’s walk—even if I usually end up carrying him the entire way home.
As I turn around, Bruno finally juts out from the table and follows me to the sitting room. I let him, smiling to myself. He loves to play these cat and mouse games, but he can’t stand being left alone, either.
I then turn, placing my hands on my hips. “Ready to give it up now?”
He cocks his head at me, his pink tongue lolling out the side of his mouth as if to challenge me to try and clip the leash to his collar.
“I really need to get this day moving,” I mutter, leaning toward him. “I have to go to another one of those miserable wedding planning luncheons. Family bonding and all that.”
Bruno huffs, blowing out a little Chihuahua-style sigh, and I seize the opportunity to lunge, snapping the leash to his collar. Now that I have a hold on him, I’m finally able to fit the little monster into his harness and reclip the leash to that.
Who knew such a tiny dog could be so difficult?
“Your mother spends too much time toting you around in a bag,” I tell him in a loving tone, patting his little head and then wiping the sweat from my brow. “Let’s go. We still have to stop by and grab Tiny this morning.”
Tiny , the near one-hundred-thirty-pound Great Dane. How in the world were Bruno and Tiny scheduled for the same walk? Well, that’s beyond me, but the scheduling app I created for my clients clearly has some glitches.
I lead Bruno out of the townhouse and start our walk to Tiny’s home, which is only a few blocks away. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I fish it out while I still can.
Mom: Try not to be late today. Great-Grandma Jean is coming.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I grimace and glance down at my light-wash jeans and plain black T-shirt. There’s no way this outfit will meet her standards. Great-Grandma Jean has always been particular about appearances and tradition, expecting everyone around her to dress to the nines, no matter the occasion.
I glance at my watch. Shoot. I won’t have time to swing home and change before the luncheon. Imagining her disapproving gaze when she sees me in such casual attire, my mind races to come up with a solution.
Suddenly, I have an idea. With a deep breath, I pull out my phone and dial Blaze’s number.
“Yeah?” He answers his usual on the first ring.
“You know, sometimes it might be nice to hear a hello,” I joke. “But seriously, what’re you doing right now?”
“Uh, I’m at the gym. Why?”
“Oh, um, nevermind.”
“What is it, Addy?” he insists.
“Well … it’s just that, I don’t think I’m dressed nice enough for the luncheon I have to go to, and I was hoping that you could bring me some clothes. But it’s okay, I’ll figure something else—”
“No, it’s okay,” he interjects. “Just tell me where to meet you and what you want me to get from your closet.”
Relief bursts through my chest. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”
“Yeah, all the time.” He chuckles.
“Okay good,” I breathe out. “If you could just grab that old lady red dress and my black sandals, that would be great.”
“Alright. I have your location, so I’ll find you.”
“Thank you.”
“Yep.” With that, he hangs up, and I breathe out a sigh.
Everything is going to be okay.
I pick up Tiny—who’s always ready to go, thanks to his sweet, elderly dog dad—and head toward the park. The pace is miserable with Tiny dragging me forward and Bruno huffing along at a snail’s pace, but somehow, we make it there. As soon as I’m inside the chain link area for the dogs, I unhook their leashes and let them run.
“You look fine in what you have on,” a deep voice says from behind.
I turn with a smile to see Blaze in his gym shorts and white T-shirt. His dark hair is slightly disheveled, and his muscles glisten under the sun with a light layer of sweat. And while yes, he’s my best friend, sometimes I forget how attractive he is.
“What?” He makes a face at me, his hazel eyes sparkling. “Do I really look that unpresentable right now? Because, for the record, you’re covered in dog hair.”
“Oh, stop.” I laugh, swatting him as I open the gate for him to enter.
He shakes his head. “I can’t hang around. I’ve gotta get back to the gym. It just seemed like this red dress situation was an emergency. Here.” He holds out one of my bags. “I went ahead and put your makeup bag in there, too.”
“You’re seriously the best,” I say, taking the backpack from him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Probably have a lot of nervous breakdowns,” he jokes, flashing me a crooked grin. “Walk safe, though. I gotta go.”
I nod and then watch him leave, wondering why in the world I can’t find someone just like him to take home to my family. I mean, Blaze isn’t exactly the kind of man they’re hoping for—considering his rough upbringing and lack of old money—but he’s nice to me. I just want someone who’s nice to me and thinks I’m pretty.
Which apparently is asking too much.
I round up the dogs and head back to their houses, dropping off Tiny and Bruno. Thankfully, Miss Louise lets me use her restroom to change my clothes and freshen up. I put on the red dress and sandals, shake out my hair, and apply a light layer of makeup.
It’s perfect .
Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I head toward Tea Parlor, mentally preparing myself for what’s to come. My great-grandma is worse than her daughter, who berated me for being single and forever alone. I’m bound to hear similar comments, but maybe if I look the part…
“Hey, watch out!” The words cut through my thoughts right as I bump into something hot … and wet .
I back away and glance down, seeing the coffee stain now covering the entire front of my pale red dress. “Oh no… No …”
“Yeah, you should be saying sorry!”
I look up to see a dark-headed woman glaring at me with an empty, smashed coffee cup. “I’m so sorry,” I say, but I can hardly think as I stare at the massive spot on my dress. It runs from my chest all the way down to the hem. It looks like I have an oil leak.
“Your dress is def ruined.” She hums like it brings her some sort of satisfaction in her high heels and white pantsuit. “I’m not sure if you’ll be able to get that out.”
It won’t matter. I probably won’t live through the afternoon.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I can give you money to replace your coffee.”
“No thanks,” she snips. “I think you’re going to need it more than me.” The woman with the hot coffee in the middle of summer saunters away, her heels clicking on the sidewalk.
I glance up at Tea Parlor and then back to my dress. There’s no way I have time to change. I check my watch, feeling myself on the verge of pathetic tears, but I shake them off. It’s not like I could’ve prevented someone from running into me…
Well, me running into them.
But whatever.
I head up the steps and through the door, beelining it for the restroom to assess the damage and attempt to salvage my dress. I try to dab at the coffee stain with paper towels, but it only seems to spread further. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, and with a heavy sigh, I resign myself to the fact that there’s no salvaging the dress now.
I’m out of time.
I straighten my shoulders and step out of the restroom, plastering a fake smile on my face as I see Molly, her eyebrow already raised.
“Just tell me what room they’re in.”
“Same as before,” she says. “You’re the last one here.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, ignoring the way the wet fabric still clings to my skin, and then force myself forward, trying not to have a panic attack as I push open the door and present myself in a worse-for-wear condition.
“Oh my…” My mother draws it out like she’s struggling to cope with what she’s seeing. “What … what happened , Adeline?”
Granny Esme huffs. “It looks like she fell in the mud. I swear, I don’t even know where the girl could find mud in the city.”
I stare past them all to Aurora, whose expression is nothing short of sympathy.
“Someone spilled coffee down my dress just outside.” My tone is flat.
“That’s why you should always bring a change of clothes with you,” Great-Grandma Jean finally speaks up, her eyes laser-focused on my face. “And maybe not wait until the last minute to get here. I can see that you’re winded, Adeline. Rushing leads to clumsiness.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, dipping my head. “I have a change of clothes in my bag, but—”
“You need to clean up before tea,” Granny Esme interjects. “I’m disappointed, Adeline.”
“Yes, ma’am.” My voice softens once more. I look to my mother. She shakes her head, giving me that I don’t know how to help you out of this one face. “I…”
“You know when I was your age, I was married with children, managing a household and making sure everyone was presentable at all times. Yet, you can’t even manage to show up to tea on time in a clean dress,” Granny Esme adds, leaving me sweating and growing angry on top of being humiliated. “It’s starting to make sense why you can’t find a husband … or even a date for the wedding.”
My hands begin to tremble.
I can’t take this anymore.
“I have a date to the wedding,” I blurt out, my voice sharp and confident. “And he’s not just my date, he’s my boyfriend .”
Everyone in the room goes deathly quiet, and I stomp around the table, jerking out my chair and plopping down.
My sister watches me with wide eyes, handing me a napkin—like it can save the monstrosity of a stain on my dress. She leans in and asks the one question everyone else is waiting for: “Who is it?”
I look her dead in the face, shoving the napkin in the top of my dress. “You can meet him when we’re getting on the plane for Hawaii.”
Because I have to find him first.