Chapter 24 Clark #2
April’s face lights up when she sees me, and that eases the tension in my shoulders. I cross to her immediately, pressing a quick kiss to her temple.
“You made it,” she breathes.
“Told you I would.”
Sophia clears her throat pointedly. “As I was saying …”
Sophia is clearly not thrilled that April has an entire entourage, but the girls are playing defense, subtly blocking her every attempt to be condescending or dismissive.
“The space needs work,” Sophia says, gesturing around. “Significant work. The electrical is outdated, the plumbing needs upgrading, and honestly, I’m not sure the infrastructure can support what you’re describing.”
“Actually,” Jess interjects smoothly, “my uncle is a structural engineer. He’s already reviewed the building specs. It’s solid.”
Sophia’s smile tightens. “There is also the issue of the—”
Cara interrupts. “Yes, the electrical. My sister’s husband owns an electrical company. He’s willing to do the work at cost.”
April gasps as if surprised by their involvement. “Guys, I—”
Sophia mutters, “How convenient.”
I step forward, unable to stay quiet anymore. “Sophia, what’s your actual concern here? Because it seems like you’re trying to talk April out of this space instead of leasing it to her.”
Sophia’s gaze flicks to me, then back to April. “I’m simply being realistic. Running a business—especially in retail—is challenging. I’d hate to see someone sign an agreement they can’t afford.”
“I can afford it,” April says quietly.
Sophia sniffs. “Can you? Because from what I understand, you’re a dog walker—”
Stepping in, I say, “April is a certified professional dog trainer and behavioral consultant with contracts with a major pet brand and a campaign with one of the largest animal welfare organizations in the region. So yeah, she can afford it.”
If not, I can and I’d like to try to see Sophia stop me.
Sophia clicks her tongue. “I can’t help but wonder about the Love at First Wag campaign. Was that real or scripted?”
Juniper practically growls.
The WAGs are circling, creating a united front.
Sophia looks flustered for the first time. “I didn’t mean to suggest—”
“Yes, you did,” Whit says pleasantly. “But here’s the thing, Sophia. We’re all on the same team here. The Cobbiton team. The Nebraska Knights team.”
“Hockey town!” Leah cheers.
Heidi adds, “The women supporting women team. So maybe instead of trying to discourage April, you could actually do your job and help her achieve her dream?”
There’s a long pause. Sophia, flushed, shifts uncomfortably.
“Please,” April says.
Then, surprisingly, Sophia’s expression softens.
“You’re right,” she says quietly. “I apologize, April. That was unprofessional. I, um, sometimes forget that we’re not vying for top spot on the cheerleading squad.
Let me start over. This space has incredible potential.
The location is prime, the foot traffic is excellent, and with the right renovations, it could be exactly what you’re envisioning. ”
April blinks, surprised. “Really?”
“Really. Now, let’s talk about the lease terms and what kind of timeline you’re looking at for build-out.”
The rest of the meeting goes relatively smoothly. April takes notes, asks questions, and I can see her confidence growing with every minute. This is her dream, and she’s so close to making it real.
When Sophia finally leaves—with a promise to send over the lease documents by the end of the day—the WAGs erupt in celebration.
“You’re getting your shop!” Ella squeals, pulling April into a hug.
“We don’t know that yet—”
“You’re getting it,” Margo says firmly. “I can feel it.”
I hang back, watching April smile with her friends. She’s glowing with excitement as they build her up.
Even though it turns out Jess’s uncle didn’t look at the building specs, he will, but we all know that Sophia was making that up, anyway. Also, Cara volunteered her sister’s husband, but the electrical work will be minimal. Sophia was just blowing a lot of hot air.
When everyone starts to leave, heading back to their respective lives, April turns to me with a worried expression again.
“What if I can’t afford it?” she asks quietly. “The lease payment is higher than I thought. And the renovations—even with everyone’s help—are going to be expensive.”
“The Love at First Wag payment will cover a lot of it.”
“But not all of it and then I’m in debt with the bank and what if the business doesn’t take off right away? What if—?”
“April.” I take her hands. “I’ve been trying to tell you for years—I want to invest in The Barkery. In you. Let me help.”
“Clark, I told you—”
“I’m serious. Let me be your banker. Your business partner. Whatever you need.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t take your money. I need to do this myself. To prove to my parents—to prove to myself—that I can make this work on my own.”
“You’re not on your own. You have me. You have the girls. You have an entire community ready to support you.”
“I know, but—”
Her phone rings, interrupting. She glances at the screen and her whole body goes rigid. “It’s my parents.”
“You don’t have to answer.”
But she does, stepping away slightly. I can only hear her side of the conversation, but it’s enough for my stress to skyrocket.
“Hi, Dad ... Yes, I’m back in Nebraska ... I know you think it’s a waste, but ... No, I’m not ... Dad, please...”
I want to take the phone and tell her father exactly what I think of his opinion. But this isn’t my fight. I can only stand here and watch as April’s shoulders slump with every word.
“I have to go,” she says finally. “I’ll talk to you later.”
She hangs up and stares at her phone for a long moment. “Elise made the mistake of telling them about the real estate meeting,” she says quietly. “They’re not happy. They think I’m making a mistake. That I’m throwing my life away on a ‘hobby.’”
I shake my head, knowing none of that is true. “April—”
She looks up, eyes wide and liquid. “And maybe they’re right. Maybe this is crazy. Maybe I should just—”
“Don’t.” I cross to her, tipping her chin up so she has to look at me. “Don’t let them get in your head. You’re brilliant and capable and this is going to work.”
But I can see the doubt creeping in along with the old insecurities that her parents have spent years cultivating.
“I’m scared, Clark,” she whispers. “What if I fail? What if I’m not good enough?”
“You are good enough. More than enough.”
She wants to believe me. I can see it in her eyes. But her parents’ voices are louder than mine right now.
I have no idea how to fix that, but I do know how I can help. Later, I’ll make a few phone calls and help carry the load, if not lighten it, because that’s what boyfriends do. That’s what I am, right?
But even as I make this decision, my own stress stretches and builds.
I don’t want to mess things up, but I cannot see a clear path forward with her, the playoffs, and all of my responsibilities without letting one of them take a hit.
So for now, it’s probably best for me to give her space.
I can’t burden April. No need for us both to be stressed out.
Too bad my brain doesn’t come with full goalie pads.