Gesundheit! Colin barked.
Aiden watched on with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. Piper sidled closer to him.
“She seems”—she hesitated—“friendly. Do you know her well?”
“Just from the press room.” Piper liked the way he said it: firmly enough to assure her he and Holly had no history. Like it was any of her business to know. Not that she cared, or anything, but she couldn’t help the little “Woohoo!” that shot through her brain.
Addison returned with Charlie limping at her side. Holly Hart pulled a horrified face, which was obviously a good thing, because she said, “Perfect. Totally sad. Okay, can we get one more? A small one maybe that Piper can hold?”
“Colin!” Piper called out. “Come here.”
Papers rustled behind the desk. Colin appeared, emerging from the rubbish like a packrat, and trotted to her side. Balancing on his hind legs, he pawed at her thigh.
At least one of us is ready, she thought as she picked him up. But it was for a good cause, she reminded herself. And it had been her idea, so she had no one to blame but herself.
“Okay,” Holly said. “Let’s get this over with.”
The cameraman hoisted the camera onto his shoulder and Holly held her microphone at the ready. She cleared her throat, stared into the lens, and smiled like she was the most trustworthy, honorable person in San Francisco, everyone’s confidante. In other words, a completely different person.
Zoe gave Piper an encouraging shove from behind and she stumbled into place next to Holly. Addison gave a thumbs-up. Charlie whined beside Piper. The one ear that hadn’t been chewed off the poor pit bull in an underground dogfight lay nervously against his head.
“You’ll do fine,” she told him.
Achoo! Achoo! Achoo! Holly sneezed.
The cameraman counted down, using his fingers as a mark. “In three, two…” His finger counted “one,” and a light turned red—as did Piper’s face. Taking a deep breath, she tried to mimic Holly’s expression, but it felt more plastic looking than sincere. She focused on why she wanted Holly Hart to come there in the first place, the anger, the injustice, and her determination to fix this mess before Marilyn got back. To prove that she could do this herself.
“Every dog has its day. But it’s not today,” Holly began in her authoritative reporter’s tone. “I’m standing in a rescue center full of dogs just looking for love, but what they got last night was an act of hate when the center was vandalized. I’m here with avid volunteer and dog lover Piper Summers, who was first on the scene.” She turned to her. “Tell us, Piper, what were your first thoughts when you saw this senseless destruction?”
Holly turned the microphone on her and Piper jumped like it was going to bite her. Not the most persuasive or motivating attitude. This was about the dogs, not her self-consciousness, she told herself. She took a deep breath, feeling her usual confidence fall into place. Her chin rose on its own, her back straightening.
“Well, my first thought was for the animals.”
“Were any of them hurt?”
“Thankfully no, but they were pretty spooked. I’m more worried about what will happen next time.”
“Next time? Do you think that this might happen again?” Holly appeared scandalized, but Piper knew Zoe and Addison had filled her in beforehand.
“This isn’t the first incident. Just last week we had a brick thrown through our window.”
“And now this.” Holly shook her head sadly, as though to ask “What is the world coming to?” and “Who would do such a thing?”
“We don’t know. We’re hoping that someone out there has information about the attacks so we can catch this person before one of the dogs get hurt. But in the meantime, we’d like to raise enough money to install a security system for protection.”
“Definitely a cause worthy of this community’s attention.” She turned back to the camera, speaking directly to the audience. “Without your help, Piper and the other volunteers have about a dog’s chance of uncovering the perpetrator. If anyone has any information regarding this heinous canine caper, please call the local police. In the meantime, the rescue center will be accepting donations to help protect these poor pooches. If you’d like to help, please call the number below.”
The cameraman zoomed in, honing in on the reporter’s pretty face. “This is Holly Hart reporting from the San Francisco Dachshund Rescue Center.”
The cameraman ended the segment by closing in on poor Charlie’s face, the unwitting pawn in their plea for money. “And we’re out,” he said.
Holly’s earnest, imploring expression transformed again. She snapped her fingers at the camera guy. “Hey, you,” she said again, like it was his name. “Get some pans of the damage and some close-ups of the dogs in the back.”
Addison rushed toward Piper and hugged her. “You did great, Pipe. People will want to help for sure.”
“I hope so. Thanks a lot for coming, Holly.”
“No problem. Thanks for the story. This city loves dogs. It’ll help boost my ratings. But why do you need donations? What about your boyfriend?” She nodded toward Aiden, who was across the room tidying up behind the desk with Zoe. “Can’t he help? He’s got more money than he knows what to do with.”
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my boss.”
Holly snorted. “If my boss looked at me the way he looks at you, I’d take him right to Human Resources. Although if my boss looked more like Aiden Caldwell rather than a fat, balding alcoholic, I’d take him right on the newsroom floor.”
Piper watched Aiden, wondering if she could be right. After a moment, she shook her head, knowing she could never do it. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not asking him for the money. This is our problem, not his.”
Addison bit her lip. “Maybe Holly’s right, Pipe. I mean, I know you’re Miss Independent and everything, but he is rich. And he does own this place. Besides, it’s not really you that has to suffer through it. It’s the dogs.”
“Addy, I don’t feel comfortable. Besides, we can do this. Let’s see what kinds of donations come in after the story runs. We’ll have this place in top shape before Marilyn gets back from her cruise.”
They would. She would make sure of it. Marilyn left the center, the guests, in her hands. She didn’t need anyone to take care of her. She would protect them if she had to spend the night in one of the enclosures herself on guard duty.
The cameraman, or Hey, You, finished in the back and began packing up the equipment. Holly handed him the microphone and watched him cart it all out to the van parked on the street like a pack mule.
“Well, suit yourself,” she told Piper. “Let me know if there are any big developments in the story so I can do a follow-up.” Her nose wrinkled and she sneezed again. “Ugh, dogs. It’s all I can smell. I need a shower.”
Colin grumbled as if affronted and Piper shushed him.
“Thanks again, Holly,” Piper said.
“You can catch the show at five.” She waved over her shoulder, walking away without a backward glance. “You did great, honey.”
“Thanks.” Piper took in the chaos one more time. “Let’s get to it, I suppose.”
Aiden pulled off his tie, preparing to dig in with the rest of them, but Piper put up a hand to stop him. “You’ve done enough already. We’ll be fine,” she told him.
“But I haven’t done anything,” he protested.
“We’ll be fine. I’m sure you have better things to do.” The finality in Piper’s tone caught him up short and she suddenly felt guilty. She’d assumed he wanted to stay out of some sense of obligation, but the expression on his face was a bit like when she told Colin he had to stay at home while she left for Clinical. “Thank you for the offer, though.”
“No, that’s fine.” He seemed to recover. “I actually have some work to do at the office.”
“On a weekend?”
“No rest for the wicked.” He grinned. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a slip of
paper and handed it to Piper.
Aiden said a quick good-bye on his way out the door. Once he was gone, Piper unfolded the paper in her hand. It was a check. With far too many zeros. She gaped at it for a moment, wondering if she’d forgotten how to read. But no matter how many times she read it, the amount remained outrageous.
“What is it?” Addison asked.
Piper folded it again before they could see. “Nothing.”
The words One week loomed over her from the wall, threatening who knew what. She agonized over the check in her hand. It might have been made out to the center, but it didn’t feel like business. It felt like it was for her. Aiden owned the place. If he really wanted to do something, he could have paid for it through his company, not his own pocket.
But could she turn down a donation that would buy them the security system they needed? Piper went back and forth about it all afternoon. She was still undecided as she replanted the peace lily in an “I heart dachshunds” soup mug with a missing handle—one of the few left intact—when the phone rang.
“I’ll get it.” Addison searched around the desk for a moment. “If I can find it.”
Following the sound, she discovered it in the garbage. She picked it up, but it was broken in two halves so she held the earpiece and mouthpiece to her face separately. “Dachshund Rescue Center.”
She listened for a moment while a smile spread across her Fuchsia Flirt pink lips. Gasping, she covered the mouthpiece.
Piper put the peace lily down. “What is it?”
“Donations!” Addison jumped up and down. “Lots of them! We’re going to be okay.”
16
Puppy Love
Piper and Aiden were on the perfect date. It was another beautiful late spring day—or, dare she hope, early summer. The Golden Gate Bridge stretched in the distance, the view clear and picturesque from Baker Beach. Free of their leashes, Colin and Sophie pranced ahead. They patrolled the shoreline, chasing the foaming waves away as they slurped back into the bay, only to skitter to safety when they returned to lick at the doxies’ paws.
Piper strolled next to Aiden, sand squidging between her toes. They tried to keep up with the dogs, but they had to avoid the crowd that came to enjoy the nice weather. The doxies, on the other hand, had a tendency to plough through picnics and Frisbee games.
While the dogs maneuvered skillfully through the soft sand, the humans had a somewhat harder time. Sometimes it would throw Aiden or Piper off balance, and every once in a while their knuckles would graze each other’s. The next time it happened, Piper’s hand twitched. Despite her better judgment, she was tempted to reach out and grab his, to interlace their fingers and just see what happened.
That’s the kind of thing she’d normally do in that situation. Piper was bold. She took chances. Sometimes they worked out, and sometimes, well, sometimes they ended up requiring payday loans or laser tattoo removal to fix—never date an impulsive tattoo artist. But this situation was a little different. Aiden was a little different.
Yup, it was the perfect date. Only it wasn’t a date. It was another pseudo-non-date.
He’d joined her for a walk every day the previous week. And here he was again Monday afternoon. She wasn’t sure what he was paying her for if he could make time to come home, but she wasn’t about to complain. About the money or the company.
But now that she thought about it, why the heck was he paying her? Or overpaying her, more like it. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust her with Sophie, and he certainly didn’t need the exercise judging by his physique—which Piper was trying hard not to gawk at. Addison insisted it was because he liked her, but that would defy his golden rule: don’t mix business with pleasure. So what was the deal?
She thought back to the check he gave her at the rescue center on the weekend, which she never ended up cashing. He’d intervened on her behalf a few times, tried to bail her out, like he thought money would fix anything. Just because he had extra cash to throw around didn’t make it okay to do so. It was insulting. Anger flashed through her and her mouth opened before her brain could stop her.
“Why are you here?” She flinched as she heard the acidity in her tone.
His eyebrows shot up and he opened his mouth, either in surprise or because he was simply unable to find an answer.
“I mean,” she amended. “It’s just, I thought you were the boss, and everything. Aren’t you more effective when you’re at work?”
“But as the boss, I kind of get to create my own schedule. Don’t get me wrong; I make up for the lost hours. I stay late in the evenings.”
“Oh?” So did that mean he rearranged his schedule, stayed behind so he could be with her? She suddenly regretted her hasty conclusion. She seemed to do that a lot with Aiden. Every time she thought she had him pegged, he’d surprise her. She wondered how many other wrong conclusions she’d drawn about him.
“I just meant that if you can come home from work to walk Sophie, do you really need me?”
“Oh yes.” His eyes crinkled with a secret, only Piper didn’t quite know what that secret was. “I really need you.”
He needed her? Piper stared at him, trying to decipher that look, but he turned away before she could even begin. She cursed her tactlessness. She’d have to work on that brain-mouth filter of hers.
Sophie paused up ahead and gave them a look that said, Hurry up. You’re holding us up.
Colin found a stick floating back and forth near the shore. Dropping the chew toy he brought with him from the house, he battled Sophie for it. Clearly the dogs had forgotten they were afraid of the waves.
“So you never told me,” Piper said to Aiden. “Why did you decide to get a dog?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, like he didn’t know what to do with them when he didn’t have a tie to straighten. “I suppose I’ve been lonely ever since my father died. It’s a big house to live in all by yourself. It’s nice to have female companionship.” He chuckled. “Even if it is another species.”
“Aiden Caldwell, lonely? I’m sure you have no problem finding female companionship,” she teased, trying to sound casual about it. And it would have been convincing too, if not for the high-pitched tone of her voice. She tried to laugh it off, but it sounded more like a flamingo call to her ears.
Aiden bent down to grab the chew toy Colin had dropped and stuffed it in his pocket. “My business keeps me busy. Too busy to meet people sometimes. Most of my interactions are for business rather than pleasure. I’m a little rusty when it comes to females who require more enticement than the words Do you want a treat?”
Sophie’s sensitive ears tuned in to the magic words and she barked in response. Forgetting about the stick, she splashed over to him and stared up with round, expectant eyes.
Aiden fished around inside his pocket. A moment later, he produced a treat for both dogs and made them sit before he handed the treats over. Sophie thanked him by choosing that moment to shake off her long hair like some canine Baywatch babe, flicking the salt water and wet sand all over him.
“I’ve kept treats with me ever since you taught me the trick,” he said. “My housekeeper says she always has to check my pockets before taking my suits to the dry cleaners.”
“Be careful,” she warned. “You’ll spoil her.”
“How can I say no to a pretty face like that?”
She thought about what Aiden had said about female companionship. It was hard to believe that someone as successful and droolworthy as him could have such a lackluster dating life. Not for the first time, she wondered about Tamara, his personal assistant. If he didn’t mix business with pleasure, then what was their deal? Suddenly, she remembered the reason they met.
“Wait a minute. But you had a date with Nicole.”
“Nicole?” He frowned for a second before a look of understanding lit his face. “Ah, yes. Nicole.” He said her name like it was an annoying hairball that plugged his shower drain. After the telegram fiasco, Piper couldn’t blame
him.
“That was a blind date that a friend set me up on. A very bad one. My fault, really. I’m a little out of practice, to say the least. The evening sort of died a horrible death.”
“Well, it seemed to haunt you, so it couldn’t have been that bad.”
“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, which was growing pink from the mid-day sun. “I suppose I gave her the wrong impression.”
“The wrong impression?”
“I guess she thought I was more interested than I was.”
Piper nodded, wondering what “wrong impressions” she’d gotten from him so far. And, more important, which one was right. “So what gives a girl the wrong impression?” she asked, way too innocently. “Could it be when you conveniently find yourself at home every time your super-amazing, attractive, and humble dog walker turns up? Would that count as wrong impression material?”
He chuckled, low and throaty, glancing at his feet. He had a nice laugh. It made him seem younger—or rather his own age of thirty—as opposed to the serious businessman he was forced to become so early on.
“That would certainly give an impression,” he said.
An impression, she noted. But not a wrong impression. Feeling braver, she shook her head teasingly. “Well, whatever will you do, Mr. Caldwell?”
“Oh, I’m kind of hoping something will just”—he hesitated, his mouth fighting a grin—“fall into my lap.”
She couldn’t help but smile as she remembered their first meeting. She bit her lip. Now that wasn’t just a hint. That was like shouting into a megaphone.
Pretending to watch a group of giggling coeds take selfies on the beach, she examined Aiden. He was more relaxed today than she’d ever seen him. The invisible pole that usually held his tight posture in place had disappeared, and she hadn’t seen him subconsciously reach for where his tie should be even once that day. She felt as though she was really getting to know him, the off-the-record him. The Tonight Show Aiden, as opposed to CNN.
He was still as polite and reserved as ever, though, the ever-present professional barrier erected between them. It was as if he wasn’t even conscious of it, always turned on like some optimized administrative robot programmed in HR dos and don’ts. But his smiles were easy; his eyes had a flirtatious glint.
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