Chapter 23
Seventy-Two Hours and Counting
Alyssa
There were exactly seventy-two hours left in the Four Paws and Crawford’s partnership, and Alyssa was determined not to think about what came after.
Not that there was much time for existential dread. Evelyn—her actual girlfriend, a phrase that still felt strange and wonderful in equal measure—was currently in the main conference room, negotiating with a senior sales manager about appropriate festive attire for the final day celebration.
“I’m not wearing the hat,” the sales manager said firmly.
“The hat is optional,” Evelyn replied, her tone suggesting it absolutely wasn’t. “The jumper, however, is not.”
Alyssa watched through the glass wall, nursing a cup of tea that had gone cold twenty minutes ago.
The sales manager, a man who could convince a vegan to buy pork scratchings, looked genuinely rattled.
There was something deeply satisfying about watching Evelyn in full CEO mode, even if it was over something as ridiculous as Christmas jumpers.
The last day of the partnership wasn’t meant to be a production. Alyssa had suggested cake in the break room and maybe a group photo. Evelyn had other ideas.
The top floor of Crawford’s headquarters had been transformed overnight.
Tasteful garlands hung from doorways, fairy lights were strung along the windows, and someone—probably Maggie—had arranged small potted poinsettias on each desk.
Every workstation had a plate of biscuits and a thank-you card from the Four Paws team.
The main event was meant to be low-key: employees who’d been fostering or adopting through the partnership could bring their dogs in for the afternoon. A sort of informal meet-and-greet in the break room. Nothing too elaborate.
Except Evelyn had also arranged for catering. And a photographer. And apparently sent a company-wide email mandating “festive jumpers or face my wrath.”
Alyssa’s phone buzzed. A text from Lil, who’d arrived an hour earlier to help wrangle the incoming dogs.
Lil
Please tell me you’re wearing the jumper.
Alyssa glanced down at the Fair Isle monstrosity she’d pulled on that morning. It was aggressively festive, the kind of thing that should come with a migraine warning. Bug had a matching bandana, which he’d already tried to eat twice.
She sent back a photo. Bug looked deeply unimpressed.
Lil
You both look like you’ve been attacked by a Christmas cracker. Perfect.
By half ten, the break room was packed. Fifteen dogs and their humans, plus what seemed like half the office staff who’d found excuses to wander up from other floors. Bug had positioned himself near the biscuit table, playing host with the gravitas of a bouncer at an exclusive club.
Alyssa had made it clear to everyone involved: these weren’t full adoptions yet.
She’d extended home visits through the holidays, but final paperwork wouldn’t be signed until January.
She wanted to see how the dogs settled, how the families coped with the reality of pet ownership beyond the honeymoon phase.
Evelyn had backed her up with the kind of authority that made grown men nervous. “If you’re not serious about this,” she’d told the group during the initial meeting, “don’t waste Alyssa’s time. Or the dog’s.”
No one had argued.
Now, watching a marketing assistant crouch down to let a nervous terrier sniff her hand, Alyssa felt something settle in her chest. This was working. Actually working.
“Alyssa!” One of the IT guys—James, she thought—waved her over. He was holding a lead attached to a small, scruffy thing that looked like a mop with anxiety issues. “Just wanted to say thanks. Properly. Biscuit here has been…well, she’s been brilliant.”
“Biscuit?” Alyssa tried not to smile.
“My daughter named her. She’s eight. Obsessed.” James looked slightly embarrassed. “Anyway. We’re doing the paperwork in January, yeah? Making it official?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good. Because my wife says if I even think about bringing her back, she’ll divorce me.”
Alyssa laughed. “I’ll make a note in the file.”
The afternoon unfolded with the pleasant chaos of any gathering involving dogs and humans in close quarters. There was barking, some minor squabbling over treats, and one incident involving a Labrador and someone’s abandoned handbag. Bug supervised it all with the air of a disappointed headmaster.
Evelyn appeared at Alyssa’s elbow, sliding an arm around her waist. “How’s it going?”
“Good. Really good, actually.” Alyssa leaned into her. “You’ve done an amazing job with this.”
“We’ve done an amazing job,” Evelyn corrected. “Though I’ll admit, I may have gone slightly overboard with the catering.”
“Slightly?”
There were three tables of food. Sandwiches, sausage rolls, mince pies, and what appeared to be an entire cheese board.
“I wanted it to feel special,” Evelyn said quietly. “This partnership…it’s meant something. To the staff. To me.”
Alyssa squeezed her hand. “To me too.”
They stood there for a moment, watching the organised chaos. Bug had somehow acquired a small following of admirers and was accepting tribute in the form of sausage rolls.
“Speech time,” Maggie announced, appearing with a microphone that Alyssa was certain hadn’t been there five minutes ago.
“Oh, I don’t think—” Alyssa started.
“Non-negotiable,” Evelyn said, gently pushing her forward. “You’re the expert. They want to hear from you.”
Alyssa took the microphone with the enthusiasm of someone being handed a live grenade. Public speaking had never been her forte. She preferred dogs to people for a reason.
“Right. Well. Thanks for coming, everyone.” She cleared her throat. “I know this partnership was a bit unconventional. Bringing dogs into an office isn’t exactly standard practice, but you’ve all been brilliant. Patient, kind, and genuinely committed to making it work.”
A few people clapped. Bug barked, which Alyssa chose to interpret as encouragement.
“These dogs—” She gestured to the room. “—they’ve had rough starts. Some of them were abandoned, some neglected, some just unlucky. But they’re here now, and they’re thriving, because of you. So thank you. Really.”
More applause. Alyssa handed the microphone back to Maggie like it was contaminated.
Evelyn stepped up, taking the microphone with considerably more confidence.
“I’ll keep this brief. This partnership has been one of the best decisions Crawford’s has made in years.
Not just for morale, though that’s been a lovely side effect, but because it’s reminded us what we’re actually here for.
Connection. Community. Purpose beyond profit margins. ”
She paused, scanning the room. “As a thank you, everyone here today gets an extra day of leave in the new year. Because if we can manage this level of chaos and still hit our targets, we’ve earned it.”
The room erupted in cheers. Someone started a chant of “More dogs! More dogs!” which Evelyn shut down with a single raised eyebrow.
“Now, if you’ll excuse us,” Evelyn said, handing the microphone back to Maggie. “Alyssa and I have some matters to discuss.”
She took Alyssa’s hand and led her out of the break room, through the office, and into her private suite. The door closed behind them with a soft click.
“Matters to discuss?” Alyssa asked, amused.
“Very important matters,” Evelyn said seriously. Then she smiled, and it was the kind of smile that made Alyssa’s stomach flip. “Like how we’re going to survive the next three days without completely losing our minds.”
“I thought we were doing quite well, actually.”
“We are. But there’s still the final paperwork. The handover meetings. And—” Evelyn’s voice softened. “—saying goodbye to all of this.”
Alyssa pulled her close. “It doesn’t have to be goodbye.”
“Doesn’t it?” Evelyn’s expression was unreadable. “The contract ends in seventy-two hours.”
“Contracts can be renegotiated.”
“Can they?”
“Evelyn.” Alyssa tilted her head. “Are you asking me if I want to continue working together?”
“I’m asking if you’d consider it.” Evelyn’s voice was careful, measured.
“Not like this, obviously. Having dogs in the office full-time isn’t practical.
But the staff have been enthusiastic. There’s been talk of continuing the partnership in some capacity.
Quarterly adoption events, perhaps. Volunteer days at the sanctuary. Ongoing fundraising support.”
Alyssa felt something warm unfurl in her chest. “That sounds…actually quite sensible.”
“I know. Terrifying, isn’t it?” Evelyn’s smile was genuine now, unguarded. “I’ve already drafted a proposal for the board. Pending your approval, of course.”
“Of course.” Alyssa grinned. “I’d need to see the details, but yes. I’d consider it. More than consider it, actually.”
“Good.” Evelyn’s relief was visible. “Because I wasn’t quite ready to stop seeing you every day. Professionally speaking.”
“Professionally speaking?”
“Well, I suppose we’ve moved slightly beyond professional.”
“Slightly,” Alyssa agreed, her smile widening.
They stood there, close enough that Alyssa could count the freckles on Evelyn’s nose, could see the flecks of gold in her eyes.
“I should get back,” Alyssa said, not moving.
“You should,” Evelyn agreed, also not moving.
“People will talk.”
“Let them.”
Evelyn kissed her then, soft and unhurried, and for a moment the rest of the world fell away. No partnership deadlines, no contracts, no expectations. Just this. Just them.
When they finally pulled apart, Alyssa was grinning like an idiot. “You’re very distracting, you know that?”
“I’ve been told.”
They returned to the party hand in hand. The afternoon had mellowed into early evening, and someone had dimmed the lights and turned on the fairy lights. It gave the whole space a warm, golden glow.
Bug had fallen asleep in the corner, surrounded by a small pile of dogs who’d apparently decided he was the safest bet. Alyssa took a photo, knowing Lil would want evidence.
Sarah from HR approached, looking slightly nervous. She glanced at Evelyn, then back at Alyssa. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
Sarah hesitated. “This partnership—it saved me, actually. I was going to quit. Burnout, depression, the usual. Then I got paired with Maisie.” She gestured to a small terrier curled up nearby. “And suddenly I had a reason to come in. Something to look forward to.”
Alyssa felt her throat tighten. “I’m glad.”
“I just wanted you to know. What you’re doing—it matters. More than you probably realize.”
After Sarah left, Evelyn squeezed Alyssa’s hand. “See? You’re changing lives.”
“We’re changing lives,” Alyssa corrected.
“Fine. We’re changing lives. Together.”
“I like the sound of that.”
As the party wound down and people began to leave, Alyssa found herself standing by the window, looking out over the city. The lights were coming on, Christmas decorations twinkling in shop windows.
Evelyn joined her, slipping an arm around her waist. “What are you thinking?”
“That this is nice. That I could get used to this.”
“The partnership or the girlfriend?”
“Both.”
Evelyn laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Good, because I’m not planning on letting you go anytime soon.”
“Promises, promises.”
Below them, the city hummed with life. People heading home, heading out, heading somewhere. And up here, in this quiet moment, Alyssa felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time.
Settled.
Bug wandered over, leaning against her leg with a heavy sigh. She reached down to scratch his ears.
“What do you think, Bug? Should we stick around?”
Bug’s response was to flop onto his side, apparently exhausted from his hosting duties.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Alyssa said.
Evelyn smiled. “Then it’s settled. I’ll present the proposal to the board next week. Once you’ve had a chance to review it properly.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Alyssa agreed. “But for now, let’s just enjoy this.”
And they did. Standing by the window, watching the city lights, with Bug snoring softly at their feet and the last remnants of the party humming in the background.