14. Georgie
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
GEORGIE
Idon’t know why I thought I could do this.
I definitely can’t do this. I feel an anxious adrenaline spike the moment my eyes snap open to find that it’s Saturday.
That mixed with Franny’s exuberance to help me prepare for what I’ve labelled as a not-a-date, we’re all on a rollercoaster that’s stuck in an infinite loop de loop.
“I can’t do this.” I groan into my hands.
“You’ll be fine. Here. Did he say there was a dress code?” Franny says from behind me.
“Casual? We’re literally playing with puppies and walking them along the rescue’s trails, I think.”
“Then you’ll want the miracle leggings, right?
” I see a mirrored reflection of Franny throwing the leggings onto my bed from where she’s raiding my closet in my bedroom.
I splash my face with water again and then shut off the water, resting on the sink.
I see my own reflection staring back and swallow hard.
“Why do I feel like this?” I mutter to myself.
“Because you like him,” she sing-songs, drawing out the ‘i’ in like, sounding like a little kid teasing her brother about a crush.
“Okay but like… do I really like him?” I ask her, which stops her from rifling through my shirt drawer to turn to me. She sits back on her haunches, her face a look of confusion.
“We are talking about the same Noah from the elevator, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then where is the confusion?”
I sigh, falling back on my bed to stare at my ceiling, “I don’t know. I just—I don’t know.”
“Well clearly you know something. You’re feeling some type of way about it,” Franny says with a chuckle, sitting back against the end of my bed, waiting for me to explain.
“I just—I don’t want to get my hopes up or read into it.”
“Gonna need more clarification than that.”
I tell her how I was feeling the other day, the day Noah asked me to go on this not-a-date.
How I second guessed everything. Every smile, every touch of his hand intentionally on mine.
Every moment in that elevator, wondering if he would be the last person I talked to before dying, and every moment wondering if he stayed because he felt bad or because he genuinely wanted to.
Usually, I have more confidence than this. I am take-charge fake-it-till-you-make-it Georgie. But it seems like everything I experience with Noah is far from conventional.
When I’m finished ranting, my head is hanging upside down off the bed beside her, Franny rises onto her knees from her spot on the floor, holding my face in her palms and says, “George, come on. This man, regardless of your first encounter in that elevator, likes you. How could he not? You’re gorgeous and funny and sarcastic and—”
“A pain in your ass,” I remind her, voice muffled by the way she squishes me.
“And a huge pain in my ass,” she echoes, shaking my head and making me laugh. “But you’re Georgia, and if he can’t see how great you are then he’s not the one.”
“Wait a minute, who said he’s the one?”
“I know these things. I’d put money on it. Hey, look, it’s your favourite shirt!” Franny holds up the French cat shirt and I go along with it, but her words ring out like an alarm in my brain that won’t quiet.
I arrive at the arranged meeting spot, only a few minutes earlier than Noah does.
The Pawsitive Passion Project is only a hop, skip and a jump away from where we work, so we decided to meet up outside the bright red door frame of Get Crafty Co.
The weather is slightly less sunny and a tad windier than I had hoped, but I throw my hair back into a ponytail while waiting for Noah to show up.
I don’t panic, not one bit. The minute he rounds the corner I am relieved to see he’s dressed casually in black jogging pants that are form fitted to his toned legs with white stripes up the sides, and a grey pullover sweater on top of what I think is a V-neck tee shirt like the one he wore the other day.
He looks like he’s going for a jog, or on a hike. Totally casual. Totally not a date.
“Nice shirt.” He notes, pointing to the cat pun.
“Thanks.”
“Wrong animal though.”
“Maybe I’m a cat person,” I tease. I’m mostly kidding, but Noah’s face is dead serious.
“You’re kidding.”
I cross my arms across my chest to protect the French cats from being offended, “And if I’m not?”
He, still acting completely serious, takes a step back from me, his hand on his hip, “I don’t think this is going to work out,”
It’s then that I notice…
“Is that… a fanny pack?”
“It is.” He gives the black bag snapped on his hips a good jiggle, grinning. “I have to keep the treats somewhere.”
I could make a dirty joke to match the snort I let out, but then he’s reaching into the retro pack showing me a handful of dog kibble style treats and I can’t help but think this man is the sweetest human and he must be protected at all costs.
I follow Noah’s lead in getting to the rescue, letting myself walk behind a step so I can follow him as he chitter-chatters about his night.
“My friends were all giving me shit for working at the store when I first started, but then I showed them the board game section.” He grins and looks back at me with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “So be prepared for the next games night. They all plan on coming in and trying it out.”
That’s one of the other things Noah and I have to do with our new positions.
Every week, we host Get Crafty Co.‘s game night. It’s a public event where anyone of any age can come in and play some of the in-house board games.
There are always board games for sale, but it’s an opportunity for the shop to show off some of the games it carries and lets people try before they buy.
It’s usually a hit, and along with our weekly crafter’s night, the most profitable day of the week.
Because it has always just been Abi running the shop, she’s never had to make a schedule before. Noah and I took it upon ourselves to decide who is going to work when until Abi gets us fully trained and finds a couple more part-time people on the roster before she can really step away.
“Here we are!” I look up, brain fog clearing when I realize that Noah has just announced our arrival. I definitely don’t stumble into him, and he definitely doesn’t laugh at me for it.
Pawsitive Passion Project is set in a large industrial style building with white stucco siding, its large green logo with paw prints as the ‘o’ in the name. There’s fencing around the side which I assume is the outdoor area where people visiting the rescue get to interact with the dogs.
I can hear some barking in the distance, and my excitement must be noticeable because Noah’s grinning at me.
“Still think you’re a cat person?”
Still feigning innocence, I look down at my shirt then back to Noah. “Yep.”
“Ready to have your mind changed forever?” Noah nudges me in the side, making me laugh.
“Hit me with your best shot.”
Inside, Noah greets the staff like he runs the place. The receptionist, Mary, lights up when she sees him.
“Noah! We’ve missed you.” She fusses over him like a mom who is seeing her son for the first time since going away for college.
He laughs, “It’s been a whole two weeks, Mama Mary. What have I missed?”
She tuts at him, “They notice when you don’t come, you know.
Hmm, a recap... a bunch of adoptions. Cookie, and then they came back a day later to bring Sugar home with her.
Tornado destroyed another crate, but he’s looking at being adopted by a couple with a farm just outside of town…
Oh! We got another pittie mama, she’s due soon and I’ve heard she’s got at least six babies in there. ”
“And Birdie?” His tone shifts to sombre.
“She’s hanging in there. After the last fail, she got really depressed.
She’s such a sweet girl. If I didn’t already have seven of my own, I would absolutely take her.
She’s down the hall in E next to Delta. Now, who’s this?
” She asks, gesturing to where I am standing behind him and his face lights up.
“Oh! This is Georgie. We’re here to prove to her she is in fact a dog person.” He points, wiggling his brows at me.
Mary laughs, coming around her desk to pull me into a hug. “Welcome to the Pawsitive family, Georgie.”
“Thanks.” I flash a shy smile, then glance at Noah to see what I should be doing next.
“Well, let’s go greet everyone and see who you connect with, and then we’ll go for that walk.” He claps his hands, eager to get going.
I follow him down the hallways into the back room where he greets other volunteers, introducing me like I’m now one of the gang. It’s overwhelming to say the least, but Noah has a grace about him that is calming and makes everyone feel at ease. It makes me feel at ease.
When he looks my way, his smile is blinding, “What are you thinking?”
“It’s a lot. I’m happy to be here though. Also, how was I cleared so quickly? Don’t they like, vet the volunteers for weeks before letting them in? They haven’t asked me for my credit scores and what I ate for breakfast yet.”
He chuckles, “I vouched for you.”
“But how could you know that I’m good with dogs when I am clearly a cat person?”
“Valid argument as ever, Georgie. But really, I think I know you well enough by now to know you’ll be great here. Plus, if you hate it, you never have to come back again.”
He stops in front of a pin pad locked door with a window that lets you look inside. I see a long row of kennels with glass doors, not cages and wired fence. The source of the barking grows louder.
“Ready?” Noah asks, hand poised to enter a pin he must know by heart.
I nod. “Yes. Absolutely. But… I do have a question though.”
“Ask away.”
“Who is Birdie?”
His eyes light up, and he holds his hand out for me to take, “Follow me. Let’s get you acquainted, shall we?”