Second Chance Girl--A Modern Fairy Tale Romance

by Susan Mallery

  His mother’s gaze sharpened. “Nick can’t take her. He and Pallas are newly in love and Sophie would only get in the way.”

  Nick’s expression turned smug. “That’s true.”

  “You have that big house,” his mother went on. “With a yard. Sophie will be fine with you and it’s only for a month. Besides, taking care of her would be good for—”

  The sound of glass shattering cut through the afternoon. They all turned to stare as Sophie yelped and raced away from the rack filled with finished plates, bowls and glasses. Mathias hadn’t seen what had happened but he would guess Sophie’s ever-wagging tail had been the culprit.

  Elaine hurried toward her dog. Mathias swore and followed. They had to keep Sophie away from the glass so she didn’t hurt herself. But as they approached, the happy beagle decided this was some kind of glorious game and darted away.

  “I’ve got her,” Nick called as he lunged.

  Sophie sidestepped, whacked one of the two bowls Mathias had completed that morning with her tail and then took off for the other side of the room. Mathias managed to get close enough to stomp on her leash, which brought her to a quick stop. He grabbed her in his arms and hauled her up to safety. Sophie relaxed and gave him a doggie kiss on the chin.

  Elaine smiled. “See. You’re going to do great with her.”

  Not exactly the words he would have used. Still, he was smart enough to know when he’d been bested. He could yell and complain and generally make a fool of himself but at the end of the day, Elaine was his mother, he loved her and there was no way he could tell her no. Which meant today, it sucked to be him.

  * * *

  MONDAY NIGHTS WERE tournament nights at The Boardroom Pub. With weddings running the local economy, Happily Inc worked on weekends. Monday was the town’s traditional party night, such as it was, and many of the residents made it a point to get out for a little fun before the next batch of wedding folk blew into town.

  The Boardroom, a pub devoted to every board game known to man, celebrated Mondays with different challenges. There had been a Monopoly Junior competition over the summer. Hungry, Hungry Hippo night, along with board-based trivia games, checkers, chess. If there was a board used at any point in the game, it could be found in The Boardroom.

  Carol liked Monday nights. In the past, she’d enjoyed the chance to hang out with her friends and have fun. Lately, she was just as interested in the big crowd that showed up for the tournaments. Ever since she’d come up with the idea of buying a herd for her lonely giraffe, she’d been in fund-raising mode. There were donation cans all over town and on Monday nights, a percentage of the proceeds at The Boardroom went to the “buy Millie a herd” cause.

  As she wove between the tables, she called out to people she knew. Once she reached the bar, she shook the giraffe-print-covered can and was delighted to feel the weight of it. Yes, the money was flowing slowly, but at least it was flowing. Buying giraffes wasn’t cheap, nor was the very tricky transportation to get them to the animal preserve. There would be the costs of additional housing, not to mention feeding. Millie’s favorite marionberry leaf-eater treats were pricey.

  Still, progress was being made and that was what mattered. Carol needed her favorite girl to be happy.

  After confirming the full can, she looked at the chalkboard to find out the challenge of the week, then grinned.

  “You look happy,” her friend Pallas said as she approached. They hugged.

  “I love Clue.”

  Pallas, a hazel-eyed brunette with an easy smile, groaned. “Let me guess. You can always figure out who did it and where. I never can. There’s too much to keep track of.”

  “That’s why you take notes.”

  “It’s not a game if you’re taking notes. Want to sit with us tonight?”

  “Sure.”

  They made their way to a table. Seconds before they arrived, Carol remembered that Pallas would most likely be sitting with her fiancé. Nick was a great guy—Carol liked him a lot. The problem was his brother. Because Carol wasn’t sure she wanted to spend the evening sitting next to the ever dreamy Mathias.

  Not that he would notice her, she reminded herself. She wasn’t glamorous or special—in the animal kingdom, she was the female who would be overlooked by the alpha male. While she teased Mathias about his love of bridesmaids, the truth was his type was more specific than simply anyone who was in a wedding. He gravitated toward the most beautiful, most feminine, most alluring of the single women in town to attend a wedding.

  In a word or two—not her.

  She and Pallas took seats across from each other, then glanced at the menu. On tournament nights there were special drinks in honor of the game du jour, along with easy-to-eat food. Carol generally stuck with herbal iced tea rather than one of the cocktails. She had to be up early to feed her animals.

  Pallas was facing the door. When Carol saw her friend’s face light up with happiness, she sighed. “Let me guess. Chris Pine just walked in?”

  “Better.” Pallas rose. “Nick’s here.”

  The engaged couple embraced. Nick’s kiss lingered a second more than was polite, then he grinned at Carol. “How’s it going? Did you hear about Mathias?”

  He seemed too happy for whatever it was to be bad, she told herself as she shook her head. “I’ve been out on the savanna all day. What happened?”

  Pallas rolled her eyes. “Ignore him. He’s being mean.”

  “I’m not,” Nick protested as he sat next to her. “But I will admit, better him than me.” Nick’s grin returned. “Our mom stopped by with Sophie.”

  Carol tried to figure out what was funny. While she’d heard about Elaine Mitchell, she’d never met her and she had no idea who Sophie was. There was no sister, so a cousin maybe? A chill raced through her as she considered the possibility of an ex-girlfriend delivered to Mathias. For reasons she couldn’t explain the thought of that was incredibly unsettling.

  Pallas put her hand over Nick’s. “She has no idea who Sophie is, sweetie, so she’s not going to get the joke.”

  “Sophie’s a beagle. She’s Mom’s dog. My parents are going to be traveling for a month, so Mom brought Sophie to stay with Mathias.” Nick snickered. “I’m in love, so I was spared.”

  A dog? Wasn’t that nice? Carol liked dogs. “Why is this so funny?”

  “You haven’t met Sophie,” Nick told her. “She’s sweet and friendly as could be, but don’t let those big eyes fool you. Sophie’s also a terror. She’s an escape artist, a food hound and all-around troublemaker. Mathias doesn’t have a chance. The dog was in our studio for maybe ten minutes and she broke a dozen of his pieces. That was without trying. Imagine what she can do if she makes an effort.”

  Carol winced. “Is she okay? Did she get any glass in her paw?”

  “She’s fine. She’s lucky that way. Nothing bad ever happens to her. Everyone else gets sucked into the vortex, but Sophie emerges unscathed.”

  “He’s exaggerating,” Pallas said. “I’ve only seen pictures, but she looks adorable. Mathias will be fine.”

  Nick snorted. “Tell him that,” he said, jerking his head toward the door.

  Carol turned and saw Mathias, a small beagle at his side and a fluffy dog bed under his arm. Sophie’s eyes were bright, her tail wagging. She was every inch a happy dog.

  “Oh, yeah, she’s the devil,” Carol murmured. “We should run while we can.”

  “You mock me but you’ll see.” Nick’s tone was warning.

  As Mathias and Sophie approached, Carol noticed the dog wearing a red service-animal vest. Her lips began to twitch.

  Mathias reached the table and dropped the dog bed on the floor. “Don’t say a word,” he growled. “You have no idea what I’ve been through in the past few hours.”

  Carol glanced from him to S
ophie and back. “Do you need her for emotional support?” she asked sweetly. “Does she help with flashbacks or is her job more to keep the sexy bridesmaids at bay?”

  “Very funny.” He collapsed in his chair. “I couldn’t leave her home alone. Everything is new to her. Mom told me she’s a certified service dog, so I put her in her vest and brought her.”

  “That’s so nice,” Pallas told him. She turned to Nick. “See, it’s going fine.”

  Nick chuckled. “Uh-huh. Tell her the rest.”

  Mathias expression tightened. “It’s been five hours. There’s no way I can keep her for a month. She has more equipment than an NFL team. Leashes and collars, beds, toys, the service vest. My mom gave me a notebook of instructions. There are twenty-six pages. Twenty-six!” He cleared his throat, then lowered his voice. “She has canned food, dry food, treats, flea medicine.”

  “Poop bags?” Carol asked, trying not to laugh. “You know dogs poop, right? Usually on a walk. You’re going to need the bags so you can pick it up and carry it with you until you get home and throw it in the trash. Oh, and make sure you tie the bag really tight when you’re done because of, you know, the smell.”

  Mathias stared at her. “Stop it.”

  Nick shook his head. “Bro, she’s not lying about the poop. We all do it.”

  “Thank you for sharing.” Mathias flagged a server. “I’d like a beer, please, and if you could hurry, that would be great.”

  They all placed their drink orders, then Pallas smiled at Mathias. “It’s going to be fine. I’m sure Sophie’s a good little girl. You’ll like having her around.”

  “You might learn something from her,” Carol added. “Dogs are loyal, committed companions. Of course that might make you too uncomfortable.”

  “You think this is funny.”

  “I know this is funny,” she told him. “Come on. She’s a dog. People have had dogs as pets for tens of thousands of years. You can suck it up for a month.”

  Mathias didn’t look convinced.

  Their drinks were delivered and the game began. On tournament night, everyone played until there was a winner at each table, then those winners would play until only one was left standing.

  As they rolled dice and moved from room to room, discarding suspects and weapons, eliminated players stopped by to say hello and sneak Sophie bits of bacon and burger. Sophie took each treat gently, offering a thank-you lick when she’d swallowed the bite.

  Mathias was overreacting. Sophie was obviously well trained and used to being around people. He and Nick were making her into something that she wasn’t, which was just like a man. A month with a lovely little dog was exactly what Mathias needed.

  CHAPTER THREE

  MATHIAS HAD GONE out of his way to make the rules clear to Sophie. She was a visiting pet—she was responsible for listening to him and doing as he said. As such, she would sleep in the living room and not in his bedroom. Only when it was time to go to bed, he realized that the living room was kind of a big, dark place and a long way from his room. As a way to show his willingness to compromise, he put her bed in the hallway, outside his bedroom door. Then he told her good-night and closed the door.

  All went well for eight or ten seconds, then Sophie began to cry. At first the sounds were soft little yips of loneliness but they soon morphed into full-throated howls of pain and suffering, punctuated by whines of agony.

  Mathias covered his head with a pillow, but that didn’t help. He told himself she would get over it and fall asleep. A full fifteen minutes later, he had to admit Sophie had some lungs on her. He crossed to the door and jerked it open. The sounds ceased as she wagged her tail at him, as if saying, “Hi. I knew you were in there. Can I come in?”

  “No,” he said firmly. “Be quiet. Go to sleep.”

  The tail wag slowed.

  He closed the door again and didn’t make it back to the bed before the cries started up.

  Ten minutes later he carried her bed into his room and dropped it in a corner. “Just for tonight,” he told her as sternly as he could. “I’m sure you miss your mom. I get that. But you have to learn to be independent, okay?”

  Sophie sat in her bed, her tail wagging.

  “Good night.”

  He turned out the light.

  One second turned into ten. Sophie was silent. He relaxed and closed his eyes, only to hear something scrambling onto the bench at the foot of his king-size mattress. That noise was immediately followed by Sophie scratching at the blanket before turning around and around and around, then flopping down halfway up and more on his side than her own. Before he could decide what he was supposed to do now, she sighed and began to snore.

  Mathias stared at the ceiling and told himself it was only for a month. He could endure this. It wasn’t as if it was going to get worse.

  * * *

  IT GOT WORSE. He managed to sleep through the snoring, the snuffling and twitching as Sophie dreamed her doggie dreams. In the morning he let her out before feeding her. The smell of the canned food was bad enough, but then he had to mix it with dry, add exactly one quarter cup of warm (but not too hot water), then stir it up. His mother said to add a crumbled strip of crisp bacon to the mix, but Mathias decided that was going too far.

  Sophie inhaled her breakfast before his Keurig had finished brewing a single cup of coffee, then she stared at him expectantly, as if wanting more.

  “Look, you’ll need to talk to your mom,” he told her. “I measured everything. That’s your breakfast. There’s nothing else.”

  The hope in her brown eyes died a doggie death and the tail wag slowed. Mathias did his best to ignore her and the guilt as he grabbed his coffee and made his way back to his bedroom.

  Getting ready with Sophie around was different than getting ready alone. For one thing, she was always underfoot. For another, she sniffed everything and he would swear, as he stripped down for his shower, she was more than a little judgy.

  “No one wants your opinion,” he said firmly as he stepped into the shower. “I mean it.”

  Sophie tried to grab his towel when he got out, drank water from the toilet and when he let her out again, she pooped enough to make a moose proud, only Mathias was stuck cleaning it up. For the record, one poop bag was not enough.

  Once that was done, he was able to finally sit down and enjoy the quiet of the morning. Millie stepped out of the tall trees. Sophie took one look at her and started barking.

  He told her to stop. He told her louder to stop, then he locked her in his house even though he could still hear the frantic yips, growls and barks. He returned to his favorite patio chair, closed his eyes and imagined himself anywhere but here.

  * * *

  “I DOUBT THERE’S even going to be a scar,” Carol said happily Tuesday afternoon.

  “Uh-huh. That’s great.”

  Violet Lund did her best to pay attention to the conversation. Lunch with her sister was one of her favorite times of the week. Even though they lived in the same small town, they were both busy. They’d learned that if they didn’t make the effort to get something on the calendar, time tended to slip away from them.

  She’d gotten up early to make chicken salad for sandwiches and had stopped by the bakery for the cookies Carol liked. But now that they were seated at the large table in Violet’s faux-loft apartment above her small store, she found her attention straying.

  It wasn’t her fault, she told herself soothingly. She was being tempted beyond what a normal person could expect to withstand. Because there, on the counter, tantalizingly out of reach, was a package about the size of a shoe box.

  The mix of various colorful postage stamps had told her it had been sent from England—from the Dowager Duchess of Somerbrooke, to be specific. She had an idea of what was inside, but couldn’t know the exact contents—n
ot until she opened it. Oh, if only the mail lady had delivered it after her lunch with Carol, she wouldn’t be squirming like a four-year-old waiting on Santa.

  “For her modeling career,” Carol added drily. “You know, with that large coffee manufacturer.”

  Violet turned back to her sister and tried to put the pieces together. She was pretty sure they’d been talking about Bronwen and her injuries. Bronwen being a gazelle at the animal preserve her sister ran...or managed...or whatever you called the job of person in charge. Animal keeper?

  And not important, she told herself. They’d been talking about Bronwen, so how on earth had they gotten to a modeling career and who was—

  The pieces fell into place. Violet sighed.

  “Sorry. I was listening.” Um, perhaps that wasn’t her best tack. “I mean I wanted to listen. I do care about your work.”

  “I can tell.” Carol sounded more amused than upset. “If it makes you feel any better, your buttons are about as interesting to me as my gazelle and her injuries are to you.”

  Violet wanted to protest. Bronwen was great and all but still just a gazelle. While the buttons were...magical. They came from all over the world. A lot were junk and of little use to her, but every now and then there were actual treasures. The rare, the perfect, the unexpected.

  Once a lady in India had sent her eight perfectly matched enamel and onyx buttons edged in gold. Another time she’d received carved wooden buttons that dated back to the fifteen hundreds. Buttons were interesting and dynamic and a surprisingly excellent source of income. Compared to that, all a gazelle could do was eat, sleep and walk around. Still, Carol loved all her animals and Violet loved her sister.

  “I am sorry that Bronwen was hurt and I’m happy she’s pursuing her modeling career. She always wanted that.”

  Carol’s brown eyes twinkled with amusement. “Shall I send her over to you for tips?”