The Dalmatian Dilemma

by Cheryl Harper

  They stood that way for a happy minute. “We’ll go see Charlie. I take my dogs over there to practice around walkers and wheelchairs. It’s good practice for Dottie, too.” And he wanted Reyna to be the kind of person who checked on people like Charlie. A lot of the people at Punto Verde had no family close by, so they depended on good people to visit.

  She sighed. “Good. Maybe he’ll move his couch away from the front door.”

  They both chuckled. It was good to laugh at the nightmares that visited. They had less power that way.

  “If I don’t go now, Mira will come looking for me. The runs when Mira is forced to come looking for me are awful.” Sean pressed his nose into Reyna’s shoulder. That rose scent that always brought the flash of memory of her necklace filled his head.

  “Go.” Reyna straightened. He hated the way the warmth of her body against his evaporated. It was the best kind of heat, this connection to Reyna.

  “Would you like to go with us? Dottie might enjoy a jog.” He looked down at the dog stretched out on the cool grass. If he was right, she’d gone back to sleep. That was the thing about dogs. They might get up at dawn but they recovered with eight or nine two-hour naps during the day.

  “No. I would not. I’ll build the dog park myself to keep from running anywhere but an air-conditioned treadmill.” Reyna smiled up at him. “I’m fussy that way.”

  Fussy but cute.

  “And smart. That’s definitely the way to go, but Mira...” He shook his head slowly. “Would you like for me to train Dottie to jog? I could take her this morning.”

  Reyna gasped and clapped both hands over her heart. “You’re kidding. That’s above and beyond the call of friendship.” She bent closer. “I would pay you a jillion dollars.”

  “A jillion? How many zeroes is that?” Sean asked as he grinned at her. He made jokes. That was what he did. When she did it? His heart sped up and the weird, uncontrollable smile broke out.

  Was that a bad sign? Or a sign that he had it bad?

  “I don’t know. I’ll start writing zeroes and you tell me when to stop.” Reyna clasped her hands under her chin.

  “It’ll definitely shorten my runs for a bit, so I am totally in.” He took Dottie’s leash. “Now that you and Brisa have gotten us some funding, we’re headed to the shelter to meet with them about the dogs. Are you ready to kick this plan into gear?”

  “I am. I understand the stakes so much better now. Thank you for that.”

  Sean tried not to show his pleasure. “You’re welcome?”

  She shook her head. “My modest hero.”

  That made it impossible to look at her. He would have kissed her. He would have. The urge was there.

  Instead he made the “watch me” sign for Dottie and turned to go. “I’ll bring her into the office when we get back.” He didn’t wait to see what she would say. She was too close; they were too close. He needed to leave.

  * * *

  A SLOW RUN with a clumsy dog would do a lot to set a man’s mind straight. By the time Sean got back to Concord Court, he’d managed to shake off the sense of impending doom and the ache that came along with talking to Reyna one-on-one. That morning, it had been like staring something big and forever in the face. He’d blinked. He’d run.

  Now? He was going to act as if nothing had changed. It hadn’t. She was still his boss. She was still a Montero. And he was still happy exactly where he was.

  Reyna bent to pet Dottie. “My girl. I did miss you, although I do not miss cleaning up bits of chewed toilet paper off the carpet.” As she smiled at Sean, the balance shifted again. Just like that. He still needed space.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked Brisa.

  She looked up from the laptop she’d commandeered since her arrival. He’d only used it while he was out on the grounds, so it was fine, but he wondered how often Brisa did that, saw something and claimed it.

  “Almost. I wanted to do a graph with an estimate of four training sessions a year and how long our current funding would last. It might be enough to convince the shelter to give us a lower adoption fee.”

  Reyna’s eyebrows rose. “You understand that’s a charitable organization, don’t you? They run on donations and adoption fees.”

  Brisa batted her eyelashes at her sister. “You understand we’re a charitable organization, too, don’t you? The better I negotiate, the less time you have to spend begging for money.” Then she dismissed them to return to the screen.

  Sean and Reyna exchanged a look. “It’s hard to argue with her sometimes,” he said.

  “Cutthroat business acumen can be that way.” Reyna shrugged a shoulder. “I used to think neither one of us was much like our father but...” She pointed with her chin at her sister.

  “I heard that.” Brisa stood and took the papers off the printer. “I’d take it as a compliment, but I’m not sure you meant it that way.” She frowned. “On second thought, I’m pretty sure you didn’t.”

  Reyna cleared her throat. “I totally did.”

  Brisa wasn’t buying it, but she also didn’t seem to care, because now she was focused on Sean. “I’ll coach you in the car, Sean. You let Mira, Peter and Marcus know their dogs are coming, didn’t you? Four dogs. Don’t tell the shelter we haven’t built our waiting list. The money came in earlier than I expected, but we still have a good window to make up that time.” She headed for the door.

  He shared another look with Reyna and trotted to open the door for Brisa. “Yes, ma’am. How high, ma’am?”

  Brisa’s eyes narrowed. “Is that military humor? You know I don’t get that.”

  Sean and Reyna shared grins and then he was sliding behind the wheel of the truck. “Mira, Peter and Marcus are meeting me at the shelter tonight before it closes, as long as they have enough dogs to meet the requirements.”

  Brisa frowned, a small wrinkle between her brows. “You didn’t check on that?”

  “I like to do my own evaluations.” Jane, the woman who ran the shelter, knew what he wanted, but there was nothing like a one-on-one session.

  “Let me handle the money conversation.” Brisa flipped through her papers. “You have a relationship already with Jane Little, but she won’t know me. I should be able to get some help with the fees.” Brisa held up a hand before he could argue. “We’re going to get so much publicity for this, I promise you. The only way to get your program off the ground is to draw plenty of attention to what we’re doing. When we mention the shelter, we will plant the suggestion in other minds to go and find dogs there. That’s an exchange. They can help us with the fees up front,” she said, then buried her head back in the paperwork.

  It wasn’t long before Sean braked to a stop in front of the old gas station that had been turned into a dog shelter. The large glass windows that had made up the convenience store area now housed the lobby, and he could see three women waiting on him. The garage area had been converted to air-conditioned dog runs, and a fenced area behind was the exercise yard. There were no cars parked in front. Brisa had a point. Publicity might increase traffic to the shelter.

  And if she had her way, there would be plenty of publicity.

  Brisa’s phone dinged before she could slide out of the truck. She huffed and waved her phone. “The timing is too much. On top of my sister telling me that she could see my father in me, which she did not intend as a compliment, here he is on my phone to remind us both about the cocktail party he’s hosting. We’ll show off our perfect family, charm his clients and friends. Our presence is required but we can keep our opinions to ourselves.” She scowled back at her phone.

  Sean was tempted to ask questions, but he knew it would not go well.

  “I warned Reyna she needed to find a date, but she doesn’t take my advice seriously, either. These things pop up and he will pair her with some junior bond trader who has more hair than good ideas and she
will be miserable, but did she listen to me? No. She thinks she can say, ‘I don’t need a date,’ and Luis Montero will take the loss and give up.” Brisa shot Sean a look. “He will not give up.”

  Sean was pretty sure she was right about that. “It’s not too late to find her a date,” he said. It was easy to picture himself in a suit and tie, even if he was always ready to ditch a suitcoat about five minutes after he put it on. He’d be happy to stand between Reyna and the rich guy with all the hair.

  Brisa shook her head. “I can’t think of anyone I can set her up with. My guy? He’s rich, a pro football player who needs a little cover to keep his fans under control. We each have dates when we need to breathe at whatever events we’re required to attend, and he can’t be bullied by Luis Montero. That’s who we need, someone above Luis Montero’s reach.”

  Okay. Strike him from the list.

  Brisa pulled out a mirror to check her lipstick. “I’ve been looking through the dating apps, but she refuses to play along with me, so what am I supposed to do, choose someone for her?” Brisa snapped and shook her head as she shoved open the door. “How well would that go over? She’d definitely tell me I was acting like Dad then. And what man am I going to find on a dating site who is good enough for the decorated Air Force vet whose one desire is to become a firefighter, of all things. It’s like finding a date for Mother Teresa or something. Nobody is good enough.”

  Yeah, she’d named what he’d been experiencing all along.

  Why didn’t it feel better to have someone confirm his opinion? Reyna Montero had served her country with distinction. She was intelligent, tough, compassionate and brave.

  He trained dogs. That was his heroic effort. Reyna might need his help now, but Brisa was right. She’d be happier with someone else, someone who didn’t depend on Luis Montero for a paycheck.

  Fatigue settled hard on Sean’s shoulders, making each step an effort.

  Sean followed Brisa slowly to the door and watched her inhale and exhale. Her eyes were doing that snapping thing. He’d seen Reyna’s dark eyes do the same. When they were irritated, you could almost see the fire burning there.

  “You okay to do this?” he asked.

  “Of course. I do the money part. You can do the rest.” Brisa pasted on a smile and gave a curt nod to him when he opened the door for her. “Let’s do this,” she said.

  Sean needed a minute. Separately the Montero women were awesome, the kind of women who inspired people to follow them. Together they were too much, especially when they were arguing. But back-to-back like this? He didn’t have the conditioning to stand up to the stress.

  Right now, his mission was simple enough. Find four dogs who could be trained to serve as support to veterans. Brisa would handle everything else.

  If imagining some other guy—a more suitable guy who could stand up to Montero scrutiny—with Reyna Montero had knocked some of his wind out, then that was too bad.

  This program was his. He’d figure out some way to put a stop to this odd addiction to Reyna later.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  REYNA WAS DETERMINED not to let the distance she was feeling between her and Sean bring a cloud to the day. They’d made it to their first stop in complete silence. This field trip to visit Charlie and introduce Dottie to children was going to be painful if the awkward silence lasted.

  “I’m sorry the shelter didn’t have enough dogs for the first class of training,” Reyna said as they walked up the sidewalk at the Punto Verde facility. “Have you heard anything from Jane?”

  He shot her a look before shaking his head. Had he forgotten she was following him or...? Why did he seem surprised to find her there?

  “No, but this is going to work out fine. I can concentrate on helping Marcus, Mira and Peter with their training.” He cleared his throat. “We have three vets lined up for the dogs once the training is complete, and Brisa says this is a large enough group to prove the merit of the program while we iron out the process.”

  Brisa says. Reyna wasn’t used to her little sister giving the final approval on anything, but it was working. The whole experiment was succeeding beyond every fear she’d had. Whatever low bar Reyna had set for her sister, Brisa had soared over it.

  That said so much about her expectations. Reyna realized she’d taken too much of her father’s opinion to heart. Instead of trusting the judgment of someone she’d never been able to please, she should have known better.

  “How was your first week at Sawgrass Station?” Sean asked. Sean’s expression was one of interest. He wanted to know.

  She didn’t have to wonder why the gap between them had gnawed at her. This was it, the thing that she’d learned to love in a heartbeat: his attention. Sean gave his attention easily.

  Being the focus of that was too sweet.

  “Oh, you know how it is, lots of chores, so that we can ‘learn the ropes,’” Reyna said, “but I got to drive a fire engine.” She wrinkled her nose. “That was almost as fun as flying.”

  “With the siren and everything?” Sean’s eyes danced. He was teasing but she knew he’d jump at the chance to go for a ride anytime.

  “And everything.” Reyna loved the way his eyes warmed when they joked like this.

  “Nervous?” Sean asked and pointed at Reyna’s grip on the leash.

  She was. Charlie hadn’t argued much when she’d explained why he had to go, but anger sometimes grew once you’d had a chance to think things through.

  “Dottie will do great.” Sean opened the door and led the way to the front desk. “This is Monique. She runs the place.”

  Reyna shook the nurse’s hand as Monique playfully swatted at Sean. They had a thing, a routine. Did he have one with every woman except her? Brisa had a nickname. Monique had a routine. Was Sean’s help for Reyna their particular thing?

  That was depressing. She didn’t like needing help. She wouldn’t mind a cute nickname, as long as Sean was the one using it.

  “Sign in and then introduce me to this speckled beauty,” Monique said as she came around the desk. “Mama was a Dalmatian but Daddy was something else, am I right?”

  “This is Dottie. She’s going to be a firehouse dog.” Sean touched Dottie and gave her a thumbs-up. That was their new signal to tell her it was okay to be a dog. Dottie immediately stood and pressed her nose into Monique’s hand. The nurse nodded and then stared expectantly at Reyna.

  Eventually Sean noticed. “Oh. Reyna Montero. She’s my...” He paused. Was he trying to figure out an alternative to boss?

  “Nice to meet you, Monique. I was hoping to see Charlie Fox, too, while I’m here. Is he around?” Reyna did her best to ignore the heat in her cheeks. His boss. How hard was that to say?

  Monique pursed her lips as if she was going to agree to let Sean’s open statement ride, but she was not going to let that happen without telling them both she’d caught the awkward pause. “Charlie Fox,” she repeated. “You are not going to believe the change to your friend, Sean.” She pointed toward what looked like a common area. “When he got here, the man would not leave his room. I expected to have to call in reinforcements for the first fire drill because he was so committed to keeping to himself.” She motioned with her head. “Then you introduced him to Dan and things changed.” Her emphasis on the last two words was cute.

  “How?” Sean drawled.

  “I don’t have much faith in soul mates or love at first sight or whatever you want to call this, but those fellas...” She whistled. “They spend every day together now. I kid you not. And the stories never stop flowing. It’s like when you meet your best friend in kindergarten and you’re certain you can’t live without ’em. You go everywhere hand in hand.”

  Sean propped his hands on his hips and considered Monique before he turned to meet Reyna’s eyes. “Good? I mean, we want him to be happy here.”

  “He honestly tell
s the best stories,” Reyna said. “I don’t think most of them are true, but he’s so charming it doesn’t matter in the end.” She was relieved when Monique nodded.

  “Yes, ma’am. He’s one of those people that you go out of your way to help because he’s pure joy to be around, and I will tell you that in his early days here, I did not feel that. At. All.” Monique bent closer to murmur, “Fella was cranky, let me tell you.”

  Reyna tangled her fingers in Dottie’s leash. Here was another spot where Sean had saved the day.

  He’d never see it that way, but if she’d been the one forcing Charlie out, it would have been hard and yet Sean had come in and changed Charlie’s world effortlessly. How did he always know the right thing or the right person or the right word?

  “The gents are holding court out in the gazebo. Charlie prefers the shaded seats there to the noisy common room. He can’t stand to listen to the news.” Monique gestured at the French doors. “Step outside and then follow the noise. You can hear them all over the grounds on a good day.” She tapped her desk. “Don’t forget to get Miss Dottie a treat on the way out.”

  Reyna followed Sean to the doors but stopped when he paused. “All three of the guys Charlie’s hanging with have dementia of some sort, but it doesn’t matter. They’re fun.”

  Reyna could see he was concerned that she might upset their fun. “Don’t worry. I can follow your lead.” When he hesitated again, she wondered if he doubted that.

  Why would he doubt that? He was the expert here. She could let him lead.

  Reyna made the “watch me” signal to Dottie and was relieved at how easily the dog stepped into her rhythm. They were side by side as they walked the shaded path through palms and the twisted branches of banyan trees to a large gazebo. As soon as the gents saw Sean, one of them shouted, “I knew it was going to be a good day. Sean is here and he’s brought us a new dog.” The dapper gentleman straightened. “And a lady friend.”

  Reyna licked dry lips as she met Charlie Fox’s stare. She pointed down. “This is Dottie. She’s deaf, but she’s learning to talk to people. Would you like to meet her?”