The Chihuahua Affair: Best in Show

by Amy Jarecki

  Over the next few days Rebecca threw herself into her work like she always did when her mournful moods attacked. The news of her win had spread and customers streamed in wanting their dogs groomed by the person who won B.I.S. at the Philly show. She picked up more client dogs, a Shih Tzu and a Beagle, and she worked to integrate them into her routine.

  Wednesday night came—a rare occasion when both kids were home and they could have a family night. Ryan turned on the TV and almost immediately, a commercial for the dog show aired.

  “Hey, Momma. Look. It’s me,” Amanda said, as her junior showmanship win flashed across the screen.

  Rebecca plopped into her recliner. “Oh my goodness, there’s Matt winning with Patches.”

  Ryan shook his pointer finger at the TV. “There you are, Mom, winning Best in Show.”

  “Holy shit,” Amanda blurted while they all gaped at the fifty-four inch screen displaying Matt’s kiss. Though Rebecca remembered the moment lasting a mere split second, it seemed an eternity before the commercial was over.

  “What the hell was that, Mom?” Amanda asked.

  Stunned, Rebecca gaped, wondering how her daughter had missed it since she was there. But then Judge Huff had pulled Amanda aside.

  Ryan tossed a couch pillow in the air and caught it. “Mom? You and Matt? Whoa, you rock.”

  A hot flush burned her cheeks as she faced her opposing children. “It’s not what you think. It was a friendly peck in the excitement of the moment.”

  “Yeah right,” Amanda said, hugging Ryan’s pillow.

  Ryan tugged it back. “I think he likes you.”

  Pursing her lips, Rebecca glared at her son, who was smiling like he’d won the lottery, and Amanda, who was scowling and staring at the TV with her arms crossed over the pillow. “The two of you can just stop it right now.” She reached for the remote and changed the channel.

  Rebecca’s cell phone started vibrating immediately. She pulled it out of her pocket and set it on the table. Mistake—that brought even more attention to it. The texts were buzzing in.

  Jack – Love the kiss, darling.

  Alan – Looks like you won more than B.I.S.!

  Barbara – OMG—you said he was in a relationship—but forgot to mention it was with YOU!

  Rebecca thought of a quick reply and texted all three at once. You know the media, always trying to create a scandal.

  “Who’re you texting? Matt?” Amanda asked.

  “No, Jack, Alan and Barbara all have their minds in the gutter like you kids.”

  Another text buzzed. Just saw our debut. You OK? Matt.

  Rebecca couldn’t hide her smile and typed a reply. Next thing you know they’ll want to do a documentary on it. Trying to downplay.

  Her phone rang. With a sigh she answered. “Hi Momma.”

  “Who’s that man on TV?” Raising her family in Williamsburg, Rebecca’s mother, Maude, still spoke with a Virginian accent, though she had moved to a townhome in Medford when her grandchildren were born.

  “It’s one of my students. He won B.O.V. with a smooth coat I sold him.”

  “He’s a nice looking beau. Are you seein’ him?”

  “No, he’s just a friend—and he played football in college—he’s been a big help to Ryan.” Watching Ryan and Amanda’s discriminating eyes, Rebecca shuddered and listened to her mother drone. She’d heard it hundreds of times, the whining about how she needed a man in the house to help her raise those poor children.

  ***

  Maude arrived early for the holiday. With the turkey in the oven, Rebecca made her mother comfortable on the couch, flipping on the Macy’s Day Parade so she could finish preparing the green-bean casserole.

  The doorbell rang and Ryan raced downstairs to open the door. “Hey Matt. Let’s throw a few before dinner.”

  Rebecca, wearing an apron with a black-and-tan Chihuahua on the front, peaked around the corner.

  Matt gave her a wink. “Maybe we should wait until after we eat. The dog show’s nearly on and I need to help your mom.” With Patches under one arm, he handed her a bottle of chardonnay with the other. Before she could turn away, he gave her a peck on the cheek.

  Heat rushed up Rebecca’s face and she quickly slapped her hand over the spot where his lips had just been. “Thanks,” she squeaked. “I want to introduce you to my mother, Maude.”

  Matt immediately charmed the woman with his infectious grin. “Ah, so you’re the mother of this wonderful woman?”

  Maude batted her eyelashes like she was Greta Garbo. “Why yes, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. You made quite a stir kissin’ my daughter on national television.”

  Matt dipped his chin as if Momma had just caught him stealing cookie dough out of the bowl. “Yep, I guess I should have thought about the cameras—you know how it is, the excitement of the moment.”

  “Well I’ve been sittin’ here for about ten minutes, and I’ve seen that commercial twice now. Pretty soon all of America will be expecting a proposal.”

  Matt’s lips formed an uncomfortable crooked grin and Rebecca jumped in. “It’ll be forgotten soon enough. The media can’t stay away from a good scandal though, no matter how wrong they are.”

  Matt put Patches in the studio and followed Rebecca to the kitchen. She pulled the turkey out of the oven and reached for the baster. “I’m sorry if my mother made you uncomfortable.”

  “What? No.” Matt flicked his thumb toward the family room. “She’s adorable.”

  “She’s a pain in the neck but she means well.”

  He brushed an errant strand of hair away from her eyes. “Yes she does.”

  “Mom. It’s on,” Ryan hollered from the next room.

  “Here goes.” She inclined her head for Matt to follow. “It’s not often I win Best in Show. In fact, having Amanda win juniors and you win smooths with my B.I.S. was a definite first.”

  “Yeah, it’s like the Lee family dog show,” Ryan said. “But I’d rather be watching football.”

  Matt rubbed his hands together and waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe we can catch the West Coast games after it’s over.”

  “There you are.” Rebecca pointed to the TV with her heart flying to her throat. The show opened with Patches’ B.O.V. win with the reporter announcing, “Former UCLA quarterback and Rose Bowl champion, Matt Johnson, has taken to the dog show world. And in his debut performance, won Best of Variety with his Smooth Coat Chihuahua, Patches.” The television panned to Matt throwing a touchdown pass that won the game eighteen years ago, then aired his brief interview after the B.O.V. win.

  “Opening the show, Matt. You’re big news,” Ryan said.

  “Yeah, maybe they’re trying to attract the football crowd.” Matt scratched his head, looking uncomfortable.

  They watched the group classes and Rebecca picked apart good and bad handling, pointing out tricks of the trade.

  When the Best Junior Handler class came on, Rebecca jumped up and pointed. “Amanda! Look at you and Gordo—you’re matching his gait exactly. The two of you were made for each other.”

  “Amanda, honey, you are absolutely adorable,” Maude said. “Who did your hair?”

  Amanda beamed. “Momma.”

  “Yeah, it’s gorgeous.” Matt shot a sly glance toward Ryan. “How long did that take?”

  “About a half-hour.”

  Rebecca reached over and patted her hand. “But it was worth it, you were the prettiest girl out there.”

  “I look fat,” Amanda complained.

  Maude gasped. “You’re crazy, child.”

  When the Best in Show class aired, the announcers raved about the conformation and breeding of each dog. However, once Bruno won, they jumped into a frenzy about how Matt Johnson kissed Rebecca Lee, his trainer, on the lips and showed his winning touchdown pass again. Then the TV panned back to Rebecca raising Bruno and the trophy for a victory photograph while Matt and Amanda stood on either side of her.

  Rebecca thought all the embarrassing
stuff was over until the announcer came on again. “What is the relationship between Matt Johnson and the Best in Show handler, Rebecca Lee? Is a royal dog show wedding in the works?”

  Rebecca’s phone started buzzing, vibrating out of control to the point where it fell off the coffee table. She leaned over and put it in her pocket, refusing to look at it. She knew her friends would be jumping all over that remark, asking for royal invitations.

  Matt leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “I’m really sorry, Becky. Do you want me to go home now?”

  Maude reached across from her recliner and gave him a whack on the shoulder. “Don’t be silly, Matt. I thought it was cute.”

  “I thought it was ridiculous.” Amanda looked up from her texting and rolled her eyes. “How am I going to show my face at school Monday?”

  “That might be a problem if Matt kissed you,” Ryan sniped.

  Rebecca picked up the remote and flicked to a football game. “Amanda, all your friends will be talking about your win, that’s what matters at Shawnee. Matt, would you carve the turkey, please?”

  He followed her into the kitchen but jumped back when she turned and faced him, carving knife in hand.

  “Oh. Sorry.” She held it out. “Here, the knife is for the turkey.”

  He gingerly reached for it. “It smells great.”

  “The nice thing is that the carver gets to sample the turkey first.”

  “You okay?”

  Rebecca looked out the doorway toward the family room where Ryan and Maude were glued to the game and Amanda was in her own world texting her friends. “Yes, of course. It’s all kind of funny. I don’t remember ever having so much attention. I’m sure it’ll blow over soon enough.”

  Matt stopped carving and faced her, his eyes downcast. “I enjoyed it though—you know, the kiss.”

  The ice encasing Rebecca’s heart couldn’t help but crack. Her hands trembling, she reached for a table knife and tossed a slice of butter into the potatoes. “Yes? So did I,” she whispered, hardly able to believe that she’d spoken the words aloud.

  She turned toward the counter to hide the fire crawling up her cheeks and mashed the potatoes with zealous fervor.

  ***

  Matt ate until he couldn’t shove another bite in his mouth. “Your cooking is unbelievable, Becky. I don’t think I’ve ever had a better Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “Don’t forget to save room for pie,” Maude said.

  Matt gaped. There was no way he’d be able to eat a piece of pie, at least not now.

  Rebecca smiled and patted his hand. “Momma made the pie but it can wait or you can take a piece home if you’d like.”

  “What do you mean he can wait?” Maude asked, sitting up straight and raising her eyebrows. “I didn’t peel all those green apples and hand-roll the crust just so someone could save a piece for later.”

  Matt wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Did you say apple pie?”

  Maude stared at him as though he were daft. “What other kind of pie is there?”

  “I could have passed on pumpkin pie but homemade apple pie? With ice cream?” Matt licked his lips. “That is one thing this starving bachelor could never refuse.”

  After everyone had pie—including Matt—and the kitchen was clean, Ryan headed over to Jason’s and Amanda to Sean’s. Maude said she was tired and Rebecca walked her to her car with a plate of leftovers. Matt slipped into the living room, put on a Kenny G. CD, flipped on the gas fireplace and poured two glasses of ice cold chardonnay.

  When Rebecca returned, he held up her beverage. “After that fine meal, you need to take a break.”

  She smiled and accepted the wine, taking a sip. Matt ushered her to the living room. Rebecca shot him a knowing glance. “Looks like you planned this.”

  “It’s pure ad lib.”

  Feeling like a college kid again, Matt took her glass and set it on the coffee table. He put a hand on her waist and held her right hand out and gently rocked to the music while she followed his lead. Matt’s gaze held hers. Words unnecessary, the power of the connection between them communicated their attraction.

  Stopping, Matt cupped her face in his hands and brushed his lips across hers. The mere touch of her mouth turned to fire in his groin. Unable to resist, he gently parted her lips with his tongue. He grew more impassioned when her tongue lightly flicked across his and he tasted her sweetness—white wine laced with desire. Her hands grasped his waist as he slid his palms down her back and drew her into his body. Their kisses continued, searching, the passion mounting. The heat below his belt shot up like a rocket.

  Rebecca pulled away and took a step back. “Matt. You know I can’t do this. My kids.”

  He grinned, reaching for her waist. “They’re not here.”

  “I know, but I can’t lead you on like this.”

  “Lead me on? I can tell you have feelings for me. Why are you so afraid?”

  “Ah.” She turned her face away. “We agreed we’d only be friends.”

  That was no answer. Matt gently placed his hand on her cheek and guided her eyes back to meet his. “Come on. Please tell me what’s really bothering you.”

  With a sigh, her arms crossed and she looked at the floor. “I’m just not ready. It all still hurts so much. And everything in this house reminds me of Henry.” She pointed to the glass of wine. “Those crystal glasses we’re using were a wedding present.” A tear streamed down her face as she clutched her arms against her chest.

  Matt stared at the offending glass. He couldn’t compete with a dead man. God, he bet even the carpet remind her of him. Matt reached out and pulled Rebecca into his embrace. “Come here.” Rocking her, he brushed his lips against her forehead. “I can only imagine how difficult things are for you.”

  She sniffled.

  Matt pressed his mouth to her ear and whispered, “I’m good with friends, but I want more. How about you dictate the pace?”

  Sucking in a ragged breath, she nodded. Matt led her to the couch and pulled her against him. Curled in his arms, she sobbed, her breath wheezing as she fought to regain control.

  He lost track of time as he held her, staring into the fire. The only thing that could heal that type of pain was time. How could he show her that he was willing to wait? What could he say?

  Rebecca adjusted, nestling into him. “Kissing is nice.” Her softly spoken words lingered on the air.

  Matt’s heart fluttered. Holy smokes, he never would have guessed she’d take a step like that—not this soon. “Kissing is very nice.”

  Worry flashed across her face. “I don’t know if I can give much more than that.”

  Matt brushed her cheek with the back of his finger. “It’s a start.”

  “This isn’t easy for Amanda either.”

  “Amanda will come around, don’t worry. Let’s just relax and enjoy the wine.”

  As Rebecca relaxed in his arms, he eased back into the soft cushions of the couch. It was nice to hold her and breathe in her light scent—citrus today with a touch of sugar. He brushed his lips across her forehead. He wanted so much more. This was the first woman he had wanted who hadn’t thrown herself at him—ever. Rebecca was worth the wait. She had become the keeper of his heart and one day she would be his.

  Good wine, nice jazz, a warm fire and a full belly was a recipe for relaxation and Matt wished the moment would last all night. However, when the CD ended, the glasses of wine were empty and Rebecca sat up. “I’ve got to let the dogs out.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  She pulled each dog from its kennel while Matt opened the studio door and let them run. “You know, the dog shows die down in December and classes end on the fifteenth.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I was wondering if you still wanted me to look at decorating your condo.”

  “Really? That would be fantastic.”

  “Great. I’ll swing by in the next week or two, when’s a good time?”

  “I have a keyless ent
ry. The code’s 5462. If I’m not there, just let yourself in.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Before the dog show aired in Malibu, Monica and Brad sat on her red couch staring blankly at the Macy’s Day Parade. Brad’s arm draped around her shoulders. “After I saw the commercial, I e-mailed Matt and asked him what was going on. He said that he’s got a new dog, and is taking classes on how to show him.” Brad threw his head back and laughed. “That’s just like Matt. He can’t just buy a dog and play fetch, he’s got to dole out cash for the best darned dog money can buy and study to be a handler. Then he gets his butt on TV.”

  Monica forced a bland smile wondering what happened to her photo album. She hadn’t heard anything from Matt and after seeing the commercial air, she knew why.

  What’s he doing with that redheaded slut anyway? He’s in love with me. She’s too skinny and her nose is too pointed.

  Monica refused to admit Rebecca’s eyes were a lovely blue, a striking contrast to her fair skin and delightful ringlets of red.

  Monica folded her arms. “I don’t know why Matt had to pick up and move clear across the country.”

  “Well, opening our East Coast operation has been a success. He’s brought in four new clients in the past few weeks and I think he’s going to need an assistant soon.”

  “An assistant? What will his assistant do?” Monica arched her eyebrow with piqued interest.

  “Someone who is an expert in Six Sigma and Lean Manufacturing, probably an engineer, same as Matt and me.”

  She crossed her arms and sighed. “Sounds boring. Now if he needed a person to send e-mails, make phone calls and organize things, that would be more up my alley.”

  “You’re kidding, right? You? Work a full day? What about your hair, your nails, massages...”

  “Oh shut up. I could work a normal job if I wanted. I’ve got my company and a degree.”

  “Yeah, in fashion, that’s not very practical if you want to work in manufacturing.”