Emergency Session
. . .
Ellie
It’d been a long day.
Whiskey had woken me at the break of dawn by sitting on my face, then I’d spent the morning at my most loyal client’s house. Archie was an older widower who’d quickly grown bored of retirement and had a penchant for drinking spiked tea out on his terrace while yapping my ear off.
He was also quite the card shark and taught me every card game that’d ever existed.
I’d gotten good enough at blackjack that the devil on my shoulder wanted me to try out Westport’s underground gambling dens to clear my debt.
But the risk of digging myself into an even deeper hole stopped me from venturing down that road.
It took three buses to get to Whiskey’s vet appointment in the afternoon, and the verdict was… not good. By the time I made it to Sweetheart Treats Bakery to meet up with a friend, worry had coiled my stomach into knots.
I walked into the cozy shop with Whiskey riding comfortably in his backpack.
A little bubble window let him look out at the world and judge everyone—two of his favorite things.
But the bubble’s plastic didn’t block the strong smell of dogs that even a shop full of baked goods couldn’t cover up, so I was sure he’d duck down from the window to avoid the few customers browsing with their canine friends.
Sadie Reed, the bakery’s owner, balanced precariously on top of a tall ladder behind the counter. Her short arms barely reached the shelf she was stocking, and her tongue stuck out in concentration while she stretched to add another box to the display. The box matched her pink hair.
She was the one who’d convinced me to dye my hair, and now her husband referred to us as the Cotton Candy Duo thanks to her pink waves and my thick blue braid.
You’d never guess she was married to the guy who ran Westport’s mafia.
I’d met Sadie last year. Whiskey had just started a new game where he stole little knickknacks and hid them under his pillow, so I’d joined a local online forum to get advice on stopping the bad habit.
Sadie’s stubborn German shepherd, Bear, also had a bad case of sticky paws.
In the time since, neither of our lovable thieves had made much progress, but the support group had become my closest friends.
We even hosted weekly Pet Bandits Anonymous meetings, though they mostly felt like an excuse to chat over ice cream and the occasional boxed wine.
We’d originally called ourselves Furry Bandits Anonymous, but that’d attracted an alarming number of people who didn’t actually own pets. After a few confusing in-person meetings where members showed up dressed in animal costumes with bandanas covering half their faces, we’d quietly rebranded.
I carefully shut the pink door behind me. “Hey, Sadie.”
“Ellie!” She beamed at me before scrambling down the ladder. Shrugging out of her light pink apron, she yelled to the back, “Fessy, will you man the counter for a bit, please?”
A grumbling teenage boy trudged through the swinging door from the back room—wearing a matching pink apron and looking like this was the last place on Earth he wanted to be. He glared at Sadie before taking up his post behind the register.
Sadie skipped over and looped her arm through mine, steering me toward the glass wall separating her bakery from the neighboring ice cream parlor. “Come on. Let’s grab a table on Bruno’s side.”
Bruno’s side—aka the Sprinkled Scoop—was the best ice cream place in the city. A row of stools accompanied the old-fashioned pink counter, where Bruno himself was filling cones for customers. We grabbed a table near the glass partition.
I set my backpack on the chair between us, turning it so Whiskey could look out from his scratched-up bubble window.
“I’m so happy to see your face,” I told Sadie.
“Ditto,” she said, giving Whiskey a little wave. He ducked out of sight. Sadie focused on me, and concern replaced her usual smile. “How’d it go at the vet?”
“Not great.” I took a deep breath, reliving the fear from when the vet had broken the news. “They said the tumor’s growing. Whiskey will need another surgery.”
Her face fell. “I’m so sorry, Ellie. How much will this one cost?”
“A lot, and insurance won’t cover any of it.”
That was another worry I couldn’t just shove deep down and stop thinking about. Money. Stupid money.
Sadie hesitated, biting her lip. “If you’re tight on cash, I can help—”
“No.” It hurt to hide my financial situation from Sadie—she didn’t even know about the student loans or just how bad Whiskey’s med bills were, and I wanted to keep it that way.
I felt like enough of a failure without also taking money from my friends.
“I really appreciate it, but you and Davian have done too much for me already. I can’t accept handouts on top of everything else. ”
“Who said anything about handouts?” she quickly dismissed. “It’s a friend helping a friend. We can call it a loan, if you want, but there’s no expectation to ever pay it back.”
“I can handle it,” I assured her. “Really. Business has actually been picking up lately.”
That was a bit of a white lie, but staying positive was all I could do now. It was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
Bruno showed up at our table with perfect timing, stopping Sadie from pushing. He held two bowls out of our reach, and the fluorescent lighting reflected off his bald head as he frowned down at Sadie. “Where’s my godson? It’s been three days since I’ve seen him.”
Sadie shook her head, pressing her lips together to hide a smile. “Gladys insisted on watching Nico today, but I’ll bring him in tomorrow. You two can hang out while I do inventory.”
“Good answer,” Bruno said, finally setting the two bowls in front of us. “I’ve got a scoop of your favorites, plus two new gelato flavors I’d like your feedback on. Cherry Almond for Sadie, and Chocolate Heaven for Ellie.”
We both grinned at the heaping scoops.
“You can count on us,” Sadie promised him.
I reached for what little cash I had, but Bruno waved me off. “No, no. Sadie’s friends are on the house, Ellie. You know that.”
Some of the knots in my stomach eased, and I smiled. “Thanks, Bruno.”
“Don’t even mention it.” His gaze caught on my backpack, and he gave it a pointed stare. “There better not be a cat in there.”
Bruno walked off instead of waiting for an answer, and I shot a guilty look at Whiskey’s bubble window. His blue eyes peeked back up at me before giving a slow blink.
I blew him a quick kiss.
We dug into the gelato, and the burst of rich flavor was a soothing balm to my worries.
Chocolate made everything better.
“Oh, I made something for Nico.” I put down my spoon long enough to retrieve a blue crocheted penguin from my backpack. I gave Whiskey’s head a pat before zipping it back up, earning an unamused glance.
Sadie snatched the penguin with a squeal. “It’s too cute, thank you! He’ll adore this. I’ll add it to the zoo in his nursery from Auntie Ellie.”
My smile was a pleased one; I was totally honored since her baby received more gifts than could ever fit in a single nursery. And while Nico was basically an adorable lumpy potato at this stage—and oblivious to all his crocheted friends—I couldn’t seem to stop making more for the little cutie.
“How’s he doing?” I asked. “Is he still keeping you up all night?”
“He’s really good. Loud, but good. Davian’s been a godsend with nighttime feedings, so I’ve gotten to sleep.
I think he likes the boys’ time together—and it gives him quality time with Bear, too, who hasn’t left Nico’s side since we brought him home.
” Sadie shook her head fondly before rolling her eyes.
“But I feel like all I talk about lately is babies and baking and dogs. I need to live vicariously through another adult. What’s going on with you? ”
I sighed. Where to even begin? “Well, I almost got arrested yesterday.”
Yep, that felt like a good place to start.
Sadie’s eyes bugged out. “What? What happened?”
“I’m still not sure, but I had a bizarre appointment with a guy who lives in the penthouse of the Nightingale.”
“The penthouse?” She whistled softly. “I didn’t know your clientele included big shots like that.”
“Well, he wasn’t exactly a client,” I admitted. I trailed a finger along the edge of my bowl. “Someone pretended to be him and hired me to show up at his place as a surprise.”
Sadie’s spoon froze halfway to her mouth, and she blinked. “Like a wholesome strippergram?”
I gave her a dry look before taking a generous bite of gelato.
Yum.
“It didn’t go well,” I continued after swallowing, frowning at the memory of Cade pushing my face into the mattress.
“Things were extra confusing because his security let me go to his room while he was napping, and I climbed into bed with him. So he elbowed me in the face, pinned me to the bed, and threatened to call the cops on me!”
Sadie’s mouth opened and closed before she found words.
“I mean… can you blame him?” she asked. “A stranger crawled into his bed while he was sleeping. Wouldn’t you freak out?”
I winced. “Yeah, that’s fair.”
A sharp meow pulled my attention down to Whiskey’s little window.
He had his furry face pressed up close to the plastic, staring intently over at the bakery side.
A glance over showed a customer browsing with their Dalmatian, which explained Whiskey’s sudden interest. Apparently, his eyesight was still good enough to see dogs.
He was too cute, and I pulled out my phone to take a picture.
A notification from Sunshine Cuddle Services had me doing a double take and forgetting all about snapping pictures.
Cade Westbrook has sent you a virtual unicorn plushie!
“Oh my gosh.” I blinked hard to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating, but the notification was still there. “He just messaged me.”
Sadie perked up. “The hot penthouse guy?”
My brows rose. “I never said he was hot.”
She waved her spoon. “It was implied. What’d he say?”