Chapter 7 Harrison
HARRISON
If I had the bandwidth, I’d take them all home. All four of the squirming, nipping, adorable terrors who were trying to occupy my lap at the same time.
It wasn’t the smartest move to skip changing out of my suit prior to arriving at the shelter.
I was sitting on the floor, and my Dolce pants were getting coated in puppy fur and slobber.
But at the same time, it was not like it really mattered, since I had two dozen more of the same cut in my closet.
And I didn’t want to waste time going home to change.
After tough days, I needed the hit of waggy serotonin. I craved it. And today qualified as an extra challenging day seeing as my new hire had just gotten me to sign off on a ridiculous plan to clear my name.
“Now, Muffin, come on, stop biting your brother.” I urged the scruffy pup with the black mask to focus on the toy I was offering and not his sibling’s ear. “Pancake doesn’t taste like his name, I promise you.”
Finding names for the hundreds of dogs that passed through a shelter wasn’t easy, so the staff had christened this batch of pups after breakfast foods.
Over the years, I’d come across dogs named after the cast of Friends, Greek gods, the periodic table of elements (Cobalt and Copper were cute names, but Seaborgium didn’t exactly roll off the tongue), and from the works of Shakespeare.
This crop of pups, Pancake, Muffin, Bagel, and Toast, was heavy on carbs.
“Hey, hey, Mr. Toast,” I chastised the light brown pup as he tugged on the edge of my blazer. “Can you not?”
The puppy doubled down, his little paws slipping beneath him as he backed up with the fabric in his mouth, making little growly noises.
“Excuse me, sir,” I said as I tried to pry his mouth open. “Enough.”
The other puppies concluded that Italian wool tasted delicious, because within seconds my blazer was gleefully attacked from all directions by the four carb-pups.
“Hey guys, stop,” I chastised, trying to hide the fact that I was laughing at the ridiculousness.
“Looks like you could use a hand.”
I spun toward the voice, but I already knew who it was. What I couldn’t figure out was why she was here.
The puppies sensed fresh meat and let go of my blazer in tandem before racing over to attack Gwen.
“Hi, hi, hi,” she laughed as they leapt at her. She knelt down and was rewarded with a kiss on the mouth from Bagel. “Wow, you guys are crazy.”
I stood up and brushed myself off, a little mortified that she’d seen me having a wrestling match with the pups.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to not be charmed by her bright smile.
“Susan told me you’d be here, and the shelter is on my way home, so…”
I made a mental note to scold Susan for sharing my after-hours calendar. “And what was so important that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“We’re on a compressed schedule,” Gwen answered in between kissing Bagel’s tiny head.
“I wanted to run through some quick media training ideas with you. I figured this would be the best place if you’re relaxed here in the…
” she glanced at the plaque on the wall.
“Hold on, the Alicia Ashford Center for Puppy Health? Your mom has a wing at the animal shelter?”
“I did it in memory of her.” I frowned at Gwen. “If you give enough money, you too can have a luxurious cement room in your honor.”
I was trying to downplay the extent of my gift.
Truth was, the room we were in was anything but the typical austere shelter.
After I’d begun volunteering, I was struck by how damn depressing the place was, especially for puppies, so I’d donated the money to build the cheerful space to aid with puppy development and adoptions.
It was a cheery, bright room that was the beginning of happily ever afters for puppies and more.
“What’s the deal with all of this? Do you even have a dog?” Gwen asked as she went cross-legged on the floor and was flooded by puppies.
My jaw tightened as I shook my head. “No time.”
“Shame,” she said. “That would play great with the Rushies. Scarlet’s a major dog lover. So what’s the deal, then? Why is the great Harrison Ashford wasting time in a place with no ROI?”
I narrowed my eyes at her sarcasm as I weighed how honest I needed to be. Seeing as it was literally her job to figure out how to avoid pitfalls and present me in the best light, I figured the more she knew, the better.
With exceptions, of course.
“You might remember a few years back when I had, ahem, a run-in with a ticket-happy police officer?”
Gwen was already nodding before I finished speaking. “Right, how could I forget? It was all over social media. The pics were gold. You were getting a speeding ticket, I think? And you started freaking out at the guy? And you almost got arrested?”
“Revisionist history.” I sighed as Pancake rediscovered my blazer.
“I wasn’t speeding; I made an illegal U-turn and the asshole came up on me with his sirens blaring like I was smuggling meth.
People stopped to watch because it looked like a major takedown.
The officer and I had a rather loud discussion, I got dragged to court, and the judge decided it was too easy for me to pay a fine, so I was sentenced to community service.
” I spread my hands and gestured around the room. “Best punishment ever.”
Gwen stared at me for a few seconds, her expression shifting from cheer to concern. “Hold on. That was like four years ago, right?”
I nodded. “A little over, yes.”
She cradled the puppy to her chest. “That was around the time when your mom passed, wasn’t it? I remember the Museum of Art did a post about her philanthropy work. And they unveiled that gorgeous portrait of her.”
I cleared my throat. “Yes, it was right around then. I was obviously not myself.”
Yeah, I was impatient and occasionally rude even on my best day, but I normally wasn’t an asshole who yelled at cops for doing their job. My grief had taken my worst qualities and heightened them until I almost couldn’t bear being in my own skin.
“I’m sorry,” Gwen said quietly. “She sounded like an incredible woman.”
“She was,” I agreed quickly, focusing on the puppy in my lap and not on thoughts of my mother.
“The world is a whole lot bleaker without her in it. I try to honor her by getting away on the anniversary of her death every year.” I paused and weighed how personal to get. Something compelled me to keep going.
“That’s why I was in Aspen.”
Gwen’s eyes widened. “Oh, Harrison. I had no idea.”
“Why would you? I wasn’t about to burden you with my sob story during—”
I cut myself off before I could admit just how special the week had been for me. What we’d had was in the past, a series of stolen moments that were in no way connected to reality.
Gwen was working through her own thoughts, absentmindedly petting the scruffy pups.
“That phone call you took…” she said, a non sequitur that I fully understood.
“My dad,” I admitted. I cradled Pancake’s face in my hands and stared into his black eyes. “Things got tense.”
“Oh, trust me. I could tell,” Gwen replied. “And I’m sorry.”
The mood in the room was edging closer to confessional, and I started to feel itchy about revealing so much of myself to her. Thankfully, the puppies were oblivious. Two of the four decided to squat at the exact same moment.
“Incoming,” Gwen yelped as she scrambled to her feet.
I headed for the clean-up basket. “It happens.”
“Wait,” Gwen said as she watched me drop paper towels on the puddle. “You actually clean up pee?”
I paused to glance up at her. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s part of the gig.”
“Yeah,” she laughed. “But you’re Harrison Ashford!”
I sprayed the remnants with an enzyme cleaner. “And these are puppies who aren’t potty trained, so I clean.”
Gwen shook her head as I started on the other puddle. “Wow, the man’s got layers. I’m in shock.”
The puppies decided as a group that my cuffed pants were irresistible as I walked across the room, and I had to come to an abrupt stop to keep from crushing tiny paws. The room was filled with the sound of joyful growling.
“Guys, come on,” I said as I attempted to unlatch all four of them at the same time.
“Let me help,” Gwen said.
She knelt down to gently remove Pancake and Toast. Of course, the mental image of her on her knees in front of me sent me right back to those nights in my hotel room.
Gwen gazing up at me with those dark eyes, and her mouth.
..fuck. I gritted my teeth and forced the memory away, but my body was already responding.
No. I couldn’t allow myself to think about what we’d shared. We were colleagues now. I was her boss. Our relationship needed to stay totally professional.
“You okay?” Gwen asked.
I snapped back to the present. “Yeah, just trying to avoid punctures in my pants.”
I cursed myself for alluding to anything happening in my pants.
“These dudes are tenacious,” Gwen said as she tried to pull Muffin off my shoelace. “I like their style.”
“Of course you do,” I chuckled. “I mean, you stalked me to my volunteer gig, I’d say you have tenacity as well.”
“Speaking of,” she said as she tucked all four wriggling pups in her arms. “We were supposed to tackle media training.”
“Yes, but sometimes it’s best to pause for puppies,” I answered. “When I’m here, I want to be fully present for them. It’s good for me too. I can disconnect from the stress of the real world and just…be.”
Gwen went quiet as she considered it. “I guess you’re right. Otherwise, it’s not fair to them.”
“Now you get it. This is my meditation.”
“And way more fun than therapy.”
“I agree.”
Gwen walked the pups over to the overflowing toy basket and expertly doled out stuffed animals to occupy them.