Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Gayle sat at her desk with her phone, laptop, and a growing pile of empty coffee cups, photographing each available dog in the best light she could manage with the shelter's limited resources.
Biscuit in the afternoon sun. Copper with his head tilted just right.
The old cat that had come in last night with the kind of soulful eyes that were impossible to resist.
She'd learned basic photography through trial and error, and graphic design through YouTube videos and sheer determination. The shelter's budget didn't allow for a professional, so Gayle had become one out of necessity.
She posted the photos to the shelter's semi-dormant Instagram account with captions that told each dog's story. Biscuit is a three-year-old terrier mix who loves playing fetch and would thrive in an active household. He's great with kids and gets along well with other dogs.
Within an hour, she had five new followers. By the next morning, thirty.
By the end of the week, she'd adopted out several dogs and a cat.
The shelter's kennel situation, while still tight, was no longer completely impossible.
Gayle was updating the Instagram feed on Thursday evening when her phone rang. Corey's name appeared on the screen, and her heart did an annoying flutter that she immediately tried to suppress.
"Hi," she answered, keeping her voice professional. "How's Presti doing?"
"Great, actually. He's sleeping right now." Corey's voice was warm. "I was calling to check in. See how things are at the shelter."
Gayle felt a small pang at the question. In the past two weeks, she'd been so focused on her social media campaign that she hadn't thought much about retrieving Presti. Which was strange, because usually she was constantly thinking about her animals' futures.
"Not yet," she said. "But I've been working on marketing. I've gotten some adoption inquiries for the other dogs. The kennel situation has actually improved a bit."
"That's great," Corey said, and he sounded genuinely pleased. "So you have more space?"
"A little," Gayle admitted. "I could take Presti. I know it's an inconvenience for you to foster him."
There was a pause on the other end.
"I don't think that's necessary," Corey said finally. "He's settled here and seems happy. I don't mind keeping him until you can find the little guy a permanent home."
"I’m glad he’s in good hands." Gayle found herself smiling despite her caution. "Actually, I've been thinking... we should get some good photos of him. That way, I can get the word out about his adoption. We need to show potential families what he's like."
"Photos," Corey said. "That's a good idea."
"We could meet tomorrow afternoon," Gayle found herself saying. "Take some pictures. Maybe at the dog park or downtown. Somewhere nice."
"That would be great," Corey said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "What time?"
"Around four-thirty? That way we catch the late afternoon light."
"Perfect. I'll make sure he's had some exercise so he's not completely crazy."
After they hung up, Gayle sat with her phone in her hands, trying not to think about spending an afternoon with Corey and Presti. Or about the way her chest had felt lighter when he'd agreed to keep fostering.
She set her phone down and tried to focus on uploading more photos to Instagram. But her mind kept drifting to tomorrow. To Corey and Presti. To the way he'd sounded when he talked about finding the puppy the right family.
To the fact that she was starting to look forward to seeing him in a way that had nothing to do with the dog.
And that was exactly the kind of complication she'd learned long ago to avoid.