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The Chihuahua Affair: Best in Show

Page 22

by Amy Jarecki


  “Form a circle and let them spar,” the judge said.

  This was new. Matt glanced at Rebecca. She waved him on nodding her head rapidly. Matt joined the circle and let Patches sniff the dog next to him. Instantly, a display of yips and snarls erupted from the center of the circle as each puppy danced in an effort to be top dog. Patches pranced in circles barking and flailing his paws at the others.

  “Take them around,” the judge bellowed.

  He pointed at a dog in front of Matt. “One.” Then pointed to Matt. “Two.” Then to others. “Three, four.”

  Matt’s spirits sank. Second? After receiving his ribbon he pulled Rebecca aside. “What was that about? I was watching and Patches had the best conformation, hands down.”

  “If it were up to me, I would have placed Patches first but you never know. The dog that won was nice too. That’s how these shows are. You win some you lose some. It’s subjective.”

  Matt let out a deep sigh. He knew Patches wouldn’t always win. But he had felt so sure today—maybe it was because he broke his gait on the down-and-back.

  Rebecca gave his arm a tap. “If you’re going to be a handler, you’ve got to focus on the next task and that’s the Shih Tzu. Put Patches in the crate and prepare for the next class. That’s what a pro handler would do.”

  Matt nodded. He did put Patches in his crate, but Rebecca would show Sara and Bruno before the Shih Tzu would be needed. He opted to watch her from a distance. His spirits lifted when he found a seat across the room with an unobstructed view of the Chihuahua ring. Observing Rebecca without her knowledge felt sexy. She chatted with a friend, as they watched the conclusion of the Chihuahua sweepstakes.

  Matt’s breath caught as he admired how the pink skirt hugged her bottom when Rebecca bent over to put Sara down. As graceful as a gazelle, Rebecca’s small feet daintily pranced around the ring with the little momma dog. Matt wondered how the male judge could look at anything but her cute figure in that suit with matching pink shoes—Becky called them ballet flats.

  “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Barbara sidled up to Matt.

  “She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

  Barbara laughed. “I meant the bitch, silly. But you do have a point. Rebecca’s first-class. You better do right by her.”

  Matt took his eyes off Rebecca long enough to glance at Barbara. “I intend to. If she’ll let me.”

  Rebecca took Best of Opposite with Sara and Matt walked up to wrap her in a bear hug. “Congratulations, Becky, girl.”

  “Matt? I thought you were getting the Shih Tzu ready.”

  “I had a little time.”

  Rebecca glanced at her watch. “Not much. Shih Tzus are a lot more difficult to keep groomed than Chihuahuas.”

  “Okay, I’m on it.” As Rebecca pulled Bruno out of his crate, Matt raced back to the grooming area. He brushed out the dog, remembered to change his number and arrived at the ring in plenty of time. Showing the Shih Tzu proved a new challenge. Besides the dog walking faster, all the handlers incessantly primped and combed their coats, which fluttered along the mat as they executed their patterns.

  By the end of the day, Matt won Best of Opposite with the Shih Tzu and Bruno won Best of Variety yet again. Rebecca showed him in the Toy Group and placed third. Excellent results for a toy specialty, she told Matt.

  Back in the room he finally got to give Rebecca more than a fleeting squeeze. “The only thing I wanted to do all day was to throw you over my shoulder, haul you up here and make passionate love to you.”

  Rebecca teased him with a tasty kiss. “We’re having guests soon.”

  “Oh, right.” He sighed. “The movie.”

  “It’ll be fun. Do you have two pairs of tennis shoes?”

  “I only brought one pair and my dress shoes.”

  “Can you fit the left one of either on your right foot?”

  “What? Why?”

  Rebecca spread her palms incredulously. “Gerry Fleck has two left feet.”

  Matt’s jaw dropped. “Literally? That’s ridiculous.”

  “Aw, come on, just try them on and see. It’ll make Jack happy.”

  Matt sat in the gold lounge chair and pulled off his shoes. “I don’t care about Jack’s happiness.”

  “It will make me happy too.” Rebecca retreated to the bathroom with a pile of clothes.

  Matt stood to try to test the fit of his left dress shoe on his right foot. “This doesn’t feel natural.”

  “Does it hurt?” Rebecca called through the closed door.

  “It’s barely tolerable.”

  “That’s not so bad.” She stepped out of the bathroom with her hair pulled away from her face with red curls streaming down her back and wearing a denim-colored polyester skirt, a low cut floral shirt and a boxy pair of white heeled shoes.

  Matt’s brow furrowed when he looked at her. “Of course you would look nice in anything, but from what seventies museum did you steal that outfit?”

  Rebecca puffed her chest with pride. “It’s my costume—you’ll see.” She handed him a green hat. “Here put this on and wear your glasses.”

  Matt surveyed the tacky, high-profile green ball cap. “Where’d you find this and how did you know I wear glasses?”

  “I found the hat at the Goodwill and your glasses case is sticking out of your toilet bag in the bathroom.”

  Matt put the hat on. “Does it bother you?”

  “No, it’s perfect for the part.”

  “Not the hat—the fact that I wear glasses.”

  She rose up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Of course not, silly.”

  Rebecca had Matt wearing his navy dress pants, a green sweatshirt, ball cap and glasses when a group of friends knocked on the door. Matt tripped awkwardly when his right foot didn’t tread as usual with his left shoe on it. He thought he looked like a clown with his left tennis shoe and left dress shoe, but it seemed to please Rebecca, so he went along with it.

  Carrying two handled paper bags, Jack and Alan entered first. “The perfect Cookie,” Jack said as they admired Rebecca’s outfit. “And look at Gerry, two left feet and all. Way to jump right in, Matt.”

  “Thanks.” Matt recognized Barbara but there were a-half-dozen others that he didn’t know. Rebecca introduced them by their characters. Pointing to Jack and Alan, she said, “This is Stefan and Scott.”

  “I’m Stefan,” Jack said.

  “And I’m Scott.” Alan jumped in with a deep bow, flamboyantly waving his arms.

  Rebecca locked arms with Matt. “I’m Cookie Fleck and Matt’s playing the honorable Gerry Fleck. Uncork the champagne and let’s get this party going.”

  Jack and Alan pulled an assortment of crackers, fruits, cheeses and deli meats out of their bags. Barbara popped a bottle of champagne and poured it into paper cups. Popcorn, beer and peanuts were all placed on the desk. Rebecca gave everyone a nametag listing their character’s name on top and real name under.

  Matt walked around with a crooked smile, playing a part from a movie he’d never seen, but it pleased him to watch Rebecca enjoy herself without having to worry about how she looked to the kids.

  Rebecca set up the video. “Come on everyone, find a comfortable place. It’s show time.”

  Matt sat on the floor and rested against the bed. His insides teased him with a familiar flicker of desire when Rebecca chose to snuggle up between his legs. Her heart pounded against his chest and his arousal pushed between her buttocks, heightening his desire. Each breath labored, his skin tingled with the anticipation of their next chance to be alone.

  They enjoyed the movie and the more they drank, the funnier it was.

  Rebecca urged Matt to stand up and raise his fist in the air in victory when Gerry had to pinch-hit for Cookie, and never having been in a show ring before, won Best in Show with Winky, Cookie’s Norwich Terrier.

  When he resumed his place against the bed, Rebecca whispered, “You are five-hundred-times sexier than Gerr
y Fleck.” It was all he could do not to kick everyone out and make wild passionate love to her right there on the floor.

  When the movie finally ended with a raucous applause, everyone said their goodbyes. The biggest dog show of the year was only hours away.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Matt awoke spooning with Rebecca, his arm protectively enveloping her. He burrowed his nose against her neck to inhale her wickedly erotic scent. The heat in his belly unquenchable, his cock instantaneously grew rigid. His hand slid down her tummy, running his fingers through the red tufts of curls that framed his favorite playground. A deep groan escaped from her lips. Matt pushed himself up on his elbow. She was still sleeping. He loved the wild mass of curls that sprawled in every direction.

  He jerked when the radio on the alarm invaded the moment. Glancing at the clock, a heavy sigh escaped and he clicked it off. Was there time to repeat the mind blowing love making from the night before? Matt considered himself a well-practiced lover but Rebecca took him to a place he never dreamed possible. Had he finally found true love?

  With sleepy eyes, Rebecca turned to face him, her small hand tracing down his chest. “Do you want to have a shower? We could take care of two things at once.”

  He grinned. “Sounds like we can even use warm water.”

  He watched her naked body slip out from under the covers and disappear into the bathroom. He followed. Once they’d brushed their teeth, she took his hand and led him into the shower. She pushed him up against the wall, her tongue sliding down his body, electrifying every inch of his skin as her kisses traveled down. Hot water streamed down his chest, bolstering his arousal. When her mouth covered his cock, he closed his eyes and threw his head back. His hips rocked out of control with the rhythm of her mouth.

  When Rebecca smiled at him, he pulled her up his body. He craned his neck and kissed her. Matt needed to ease up for a moment or he’d burst. She refused to let the pace slow, as her tongue darted into his mouth, her hot silky taste adding fuel to the fire. His fingers ran down her back and sank into the soft flesh of her bottom. The water made the friction slick between them, erotic. His finger slipped between her legs and found the nub that would drive her insane. Rebecca spread her legs and let him tease her.

  As her moans increased, Matt slid his hands back over her butt and lifted her up. Wrapping her legs around him, she slid her hips down, guiding his cock into her hot, liquid core. Her mouth exploring his, she rocked relentlessly.

  She took him over the top and he erupted, unable to control the roaring gasp that gushed from the depths of his passion. Rebecca arched her back and Matt strengthened his grip as she slammed against him, her cries building until she shuddered in his arms.

  A soft chuckle met his ear as her legs slid down his and took her weight. “That was amazing.”

  “You’re amazing.”

  “We better get moving.” Rebecca quickly shampooed her hair and washed her body. Matt had more trouble snapping out of it. He wanted to watch her every move. The water running over her body, rinsing the suds away made his need grow again. He flinched.

  I’m forty-years-old for chrissake, not twenty.

  Rebecca groomed herself for the day with her usual efficiency and was ready just as Matt finished tying his shoes. They pottied and fed the anxious dogs and made coffee in the room. No time for breakfast. “We’ll groom at the Garden, we have bench assignments there just like Philly, except it’s so crowded you can hardly move.”

  Matt piled the crates onto the dolly. The Beagle and the Carin, who were showing tomorrow, remained behind with Patches. Since the little guy wasn’t a champion he’d have to sleep in his crate for the day and Matt double checked his water.

  Pushing the dolly of dogs yapping in their crates, he followed Rebecca and her grooming cart into the elevator and out into the frosty New York air. “It’s freezing. Are the dogs going to be all right?”

  “It’s a half block. They’ll be fine.” They waited for the light to turn. Matt glanced around and noticed people with dogs and crates on all corners heading to Madison Square Garden, which he knew better as the home of the New York Knicks.

  I thought I might come to a game one day but never dreamed I would be here showing a dog.

  The dolly creaked over the uneven sidewalk as they approached the round walls of the Garden. His nose started to run and the tips of his ears ached from the bitter cold wind in the short distance. Rebecca held the door and he pushed through into a frenzied world. With no place to move, people, crates and dogs filled every square inch of the room.

  “Follow me,” Rebecca called over her shoulder. She found a path.

  “How can you move?”

  “I just keep pushing. We’re lucky they don’t force us to use the wooden benches anymore. You couldn’t even turn in place.”

  Matt’s nose stung as he did the New York shuffle past a well-used potty area filled with sawdust. That was definitely a downside to showing in a city—no place to take the dogs out.

  She stopped and pulled her entry out of her bag. “This is it, and someone’s got their stuff in our spot.” She spun around stomping her foot. “We have spaces thirty-one through thirty-three.”

  “Should have come earlier,” said a person pushing his way through the aisle.

  Rebecca snapped around. “No. That’s why this is a benched show, so there’s room for the entrants. Matt, help me move this stuff.”

  A handler hollered from down the aisle. “Hey, what are you doing?”

  “You’re in my spot.”

  The man hotly pushed his way up to Rebecca. She held up her entry and he snatched it out of her hand. He then grabbed his entry and checked the numbers on the aisle. “You’re right. I’m in one-thirty-one, whoops.”

  Matt leaned in. “Hey dude, you want me to help you move your stuff?”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got a dolly. I just have to find a way to get it there in this swarming mob of people.”

  Matt shoved his cart into place and stepped down on the wheel brake. Rebecca slid her grooming box into place and unlocked it. The first thing she did was to pull her kennel sign out of the bottom drawer and fasten it to the top crate. It read “Lee’s Darling Chihuahuas.” She turned to Matt. “Always advertise.”

  Though in peak condition, Matt found it difficult to move in the tight space and it was hot. He removed his suit jacket and put on the black striped “Pro Plan” apron that Rebecca offered. At his first show he learned the value of protecting his clothes. Grooming was dirty business but changing clothes was impractical. Everyone wore some sort of cover up and the men wore aprons. He felt comfortable with that, especially with Rebecca working beside him in her pink smock.

  He pulled the Shih Tzu out of his crate. Rebecca placed a slip-free tray on top of the crates for him to use for grooming. His irritation mounted when within the span of five minutes he took numerous elbows and nudges to the back. “This place is a zoo.”

  She shook her comb. “It’s the Garden.”

  “I don’t know how people can even breathe in here.”

  A young woman with a camera stepped up to him, so close she was in his face. “What kind of dog is that?”

  “He’s a Shih Tzu.”

  “Aw, he’s so cute. What’s his name?”

  Matt’s irritation eased a bit as he shot her a self-conscience glance. “I must admit, I’m just the handler but the owners named him Fluffy.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, you don’t look like you’d name a dog Fluffy. Can I take his picture?”

  “Sure.” Matt held up the dog and smiled.

  She hesitated. “No. I just want the dog. Can you pose him on the table where you had him before?”

  Matt shrugged and put Fluffy on the table. He held up a squeaky mouse and squeaked it so that the photographer could get a good shot.

  “Thanks,” she said, looking for her next model.

  Rebecca used a spray bottle to wet the Lhasa Apso down and brushed him while holding a hai
r dryer under her chin, the dog straining to keep his eyes out of the hot blowing air. A reporter stopped to ask questions, followed by another photographer, more reporters, interested spectators. Rebecca finished the Lhasa and started working with the Bichon. Matt, so distracted by all the attention, had not even run the brush through the Shih Tzu.

  Rebecca glanced over. “You have to talk while you work. Don’t stop, otherwise your dog won’t be ready.”

  “Yeah. This is insane.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with telling someone to come back later.” She nearly fell on the Bichon when the crowd surged and pushed her in the back.

  “Watch it,” Matt barked. “Jeez, Becky, you really like this?”

  “Like I said, it’s the Garden. You’ll see. Wait till you get out there.”

  Rebecca showered the Bichon with hairspray and put him back in his crate. “You brush Sara,” she said, keeping her eyes lowered, pulling the “all business” routine. Matt stood and watched her but she refused to look at him. Was she having second thoughts about their relationship? Nah. It was probably “The Garden” stress.

  Rebecca looked at her watch. “I’m on with the Lhasa Apso.” She unsnapped her smock and reached for a medium-sized, white show lead. “Wish me luck.”

  Matt stooped to kiss her. She gave him a quick peck and in a few steps, she was swallowed by the swarming crowd. He hoped she wouldn’t be gone long. He wanted to stay within touching distance of the hot, sexy woman who rocked his world this morning.

  ***

  Rebecca’s insides fluttered as she made her way to the ring. Her interlude with Matt topped all of her wildest imaginings. He wasn’t only a fantastic guy, he took her to a level of passion she’d never experienced before—not even with Henry. This had to be a dream. There was no way she’d ever sustain this kind of happiness. Maybe it wouldn’t last, but the kids weren’t there. What was wrong with stealing a bit of happiness for herself? She’d be back in New Jersey soon enough.

 

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