by Judi McCoy
“I can see why. It’s exactly what he tells you not to do.”
“Too bad for him. He’ll just have to get used to it,” Ellie said with a shrug. “From here on out, Arlene gets sort of personal: Ellie, with regard to your forecast, you have an array of fortunate configurations during the upcoming year. This promises good karma and protection throughout your life.”
There was that word again, Ellie thought. Karma. “Good luck will abound, and whatever path you choose will consummate in a well-deserved positive outcome. It is an especially great time for collaborations of any sort, if you relax and go with the flow.”
“Collaborate? Are you thinking of writing a book or something?”
“Not that I know of. Now, hush, because there’s more.” She sat straighter in her chair. “The only caveat is you may feel overwhelmed at times by the unexpected twists and turns. With the planet Uranus transiting your ascendant, while Saturn remains in your seventh house of partnerships, don’t be surprised by a few shocking developments. Your life will change, never to be the same, so enjoy the roller-coaster ride.”
“That sounds so exciting, I’m jealous,” said Viv. “I’m going to phone Arlene as soon as she gets back from Mexico and tell her to hurry up with my chart.”
“There’s more.” She peered at Viv over the page. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be. Now hurry up and finish.”
Ellie heaved a breath. She’d read this bit a hundred times and still wasn’t sure if she should take it seriously. “Don’t ask questions until I’m finished, okay?” When Viv nodded, she moved on. “Perhaps you should sit down, before reading further—”
“Yikes!”
Ellie raised one eyebrow. “You need to know that I did not read the rest of this to Sam in case he decided to pay attention.” She cleared her throat again. “Here’s the rest: You just might decide to elope. Yes, I said elope (and wake up in Vegas?). Keep breathing for the next revelation. There is a high probability of some unplanned new ‘additions’ to your family.”
“Oh, my God.” Viv pushed away from the table. “You’re getting married and you’re going to get pregnant?”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
“Vivian, what did I tell you? Zip it, please. It gets more complicated from here.” She blew out another breath. “Indeed, expect the Rudster to enjoy being a wonderful big brother, because there could be the arrival of a little addition to your life.”
“Say what?” came a voice from beneath the table again.
Tapping Rudy with the toe of her sneaker, she held up her hand and forged ahead. “This is all Arlene, too: Before you say uh-oh and start hyperventilating while furiously chewing on your lower lip, take comfort in knowing the year promises to be exciting and unforgettable. Far from boring, the next twelve months will be chock-full of startling surprises. Your life will be expanding in many directions, while you remain under the umbrella of Jupiter’s protection.” Ellie wiped a tear from her eye. “You will find fulfillment and be surrounded by love beyond your wildest imagination.”
It was Viv’s turn to blow out a breath. “Wow, that is so romantic—all except the part about the baby, I mean.”
“She didn’t ever say it would be a baby, just an addition to my family.”
“Well, who else might it be?”
“Well, it won’t be me.”
She gave Rudy another poke. “An addition might mean I’ll meet a long-lost cousin, something like that.”
“Only time will tell,” Viv said with a smile. “I’d hang on to that prediction in case you have to refer to it later. Sounds like big things are going to happen.” She glanced at the empty coffee mugs. “How about if I buy the next round?”
“Fine with me,” Ellie said, “and more napkins, please.”
When Viv was safely inside the shop, she felt a paw on her knee. “What can I do for you, big guy?”
“You can tell me that you and the dopey dick are not gettin’ hitched,” Rudy said, his voice a plaintive whine.
She pushed back her chair and he jumped in her lap. “I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon, so stop fussing about it.”
He gave her cheek a sloppy lick. “And what about that addition-to-your-family crack? I’m not exactly a kid-friendly dog, you know.”
She ran her fingers down his back. “I know, and I don’t think that will happen, either.”
“You and me, we’re already a couple, a duo . . . the Dynamic Duo like Batman and Robin. There’s no room in our lives for anybody else.”
“That isn’t true.” She scratched his favorite spot, the underside of his chin. “You found room in your heart for Sam.”
He gruffed out a laugh. “So you think. I’m just tolerating him until you get smart and kick him out.”
“Things are going just fine between me and Sam, so don’t get your hopes up. And if someone else comes along that deserves a place in our hearts and our lives, we’re going to welcome them gladly, you understand?” When he didn’t answer, she tugged at his ear. “Understand?”
“Do I have to?” he grumped.
“You do.”
“But I’ll still be your number-one guy, right? No one else is gonna take my place . . . ever?”
“No one will ever take your place, I promise.” Heaving a sigh, he nuzzled her neck, and she cradled him in her arms. “It’s you and me forever, big guy. I love you best.”
Read on for a special preview of
the next Dog Walker mystery by Judi McCoy
Fashion Faux Paw
Coming in February 2012 from Obsidian.
Ellie hoisted her packed tote bag over her shoulder, keeping Rudy’s leash in her left hand. Then she stepped into one of the cavernous rooms that had been prepared to ready the participants for New York City’s most glamorous event.
She still couldn’t believe she was a part of the grand finale of Fashion Week. The winner of this competition, the one she’d been specially hired for, would capture a one-hundred-thousand-dollar prize and a two-year contract with Nola Morgan Design, a manufacturer of highend women’s ready-to-wear.
Thirty-five hopefuls had submitted their idea of what today’s ordinary woman might wear while at work or out on the town. Four finalists were chosen to compete by the CFDA and the contest would be the culmination of Fashion Week.
As one of the models asked to strut the catwalk, Patti Fallgrave, Ellie’s client, had an in with the committee, and she’d finagled a great job for her dog walker friend. Ellie was now in charge of the models’ canines, and would watch over them while their owners were prepped for the show.
She scanned the mass of people and noted that most of the women appeared to walk, talk, and act untouchable as they went about their business for opening day. Those who were the tallest had to be the models, especially since they were the ones who looked as if they hadn’t eaten since the past millennium.
And the rest? She’d bet her last dime that most of the hairstylists, makeup artists, designers, and runners participating in the show were on the same lettuce leaf and one-cracker-a-day diet.
“Geez. Ya think anybody in this crowd knows how to swallow more than one piece of kibble at a sitting?” Rudy asked.
She smiled down at him, her voice low. “We’ll talk about it later. For now, let’s just find our spot and stay out of trouble.”
“Hey, trouble is our middle name. We live for trouble. In fact, we’re trouble experts. We—”
She ignored his rambling and jerked on his lead for good measure. After studying the mob of serious fashionistas, Ellie glanced at her work clothes. Her job for the next few days was all dog, so she’d dressed in preparation for poop stains, pee stains, food stains, puke stains, and anything else a furry, four-legged friend might have a paw in creating.
She wore a peach-colored sweater with no designer label, machine washable, and Sketchers Kinetic Response shoes, perfect for walking her usual ten-mile-per-day route. Her special touc
h for this week-long event was her Calvin Klein ultimate skinny jeans, which she’d found on a half-price mark-down rack. Her friend Viv had insisted it was the least she should wear to work the country’s biggest fashion event, and she’d grudgingly agreed.
“’Scuse me,” a voice said when someone pushed past her with an overloaded clothing rack.
She darted out of the way and bumped into a girl carrying a stack of shoe boxes. The top box hit the ground and Ellie bent to pick it up. She set the shoe box on top of the pile, and the person behind the cardboard mountain mumbled a “thank you” and stumbled on through the crowd.
“Ellie! Hey, Ellie! I’m over here.”
Raising her head, she spotted Patti Fallgrave waving at her from across the room. At six feet tall, the super-model was easy to find in a normal crowd, but it wasn’t so simple locating her in this group of towering pencilthin figures.
She edged through the busy room, dodging workerbees with dress racks and half-naked women standing on podiums waiting to be clothed. “I’m exhausted just watching all that’s going on,” she said when she reached her. “Is it always like this?”
Patti cradled Cheech, one of two Chihuahua brothers Ellie favored, in her left arm and clasped Ellie’s elbow in her free hand. “This?” She laughed. “It’s nothing compared to showtime. Just be careful of Rudy. Most of the people working this scene love animals, but they’re not used to having them underfoot. That’s why they hired you.”
They dodged another clothes trolley, walked past a group of mirrored tables and chairs and stopped at an open area holding a stretchy metal gate formed into an eight-foot-in-diameter pen. “This is the best I could set up for you,” the supermodel said.
After sitting on a chair wedged between a watercooler and a long table filled with fruit, veggies, power bars, and high-energy drinks, she pointed to a corner. “This is just one of several snack tables set up throughout the show. And around that corner is a patch of fake grass, where the dogs can do their business if there’s an emergency. Beyond that is a door to the outside, so you can come and go as needed.”
Ellie took a seat in a nearby chair and heaved a breath. After resting her tote bag on a knee she peered at the underside of the table, half filled with more food and drinks. “And I guess I can store my stuff down there?”
“Absolutely. Just be aware there’s no security guard at this entrance. I’d make sure my cash and credit cards were tucked in my pocket instead of in the bag, because anyone can stop by and start digging. If you ask, they’ll tell you they’re looking through their bag, but it could be yours.”
Ellie shook her head. “They can look in my bag all they want, but the only thing they’ll find is canine gear. I brought gourmet biscuits, extra leashes, folding water bowls, a couple of old blankets, and anything else I thought the dogs might need that their owners would forget.”
“Perfect. And guess what?” Patti raised an expertly arched brow. “I got you a runner. Kitty’s around here somewhere and she can’t wait to be your assistant.”
Ellie smothered a smile. She had an assistant named Kitty and they were herding a group of dogs? There had to be a joke in there somewhere.
“And the models and their babies?”
“They’ll be here soon. The designers are already on site, of course, but they have yet to see the dogs in person. All they know is the breed.”
Patti handed her Cheech, checked her watch, and tucked her own bag under the table. “I have a fitting for a Vena Cava evening gown, so I have to run.” She stood. “I guess your first job would be to watch my baby. His travel bed is in my bag. Just get ready to meet some huge personalities while you wait for the models to drop off their dogs. If you’re into people-watching, this is the place to be.”
When she sauntered away with her shiny dark brown hair swinging down her slender back, there was no doubt in Ellie’s mind that her client was a supermodel. Patti commanded attention, even when she was dressed down in a casual top and jeans.
“How about you let me sit up there with you? The less time I gotta spend down here with the hairless wonder, the better.”
She patted the chair next to her and trained her eyes on the passersby, while Rudy bolted into position and sat at attention. Just then, a tall attractive man arrived on the scene, followed by two assistants, each carrying a huge box. “I’m Jeffery King,” he said, grabbing Ellie’s hand. “And I have gifts for the models and designers from Nola Morgan Design.” He flashed a bright smile. “And you, too, if you’re Ellie Engleman.”
“That’s me,” she said, matching his grin. The assistants began unloading and lining up baskets covered in colored plastic wrap on the table. “And those would be the gifts?”
“They would, and you’re in charge until my sister gets here, so watch over them carefully. The swag in each basket adds up to about five thousand retail, and every one is tagged for its owner because the items inside were targeted directly for them.” He searched the line and picked up a basket wrapped in pale green plastic. “Patti Fallgrave hand picked the items in yours, so speak to her if you’re not happy with your loot.”
Ellie held the basket to her chest. “Thanks, and I’ll be sure to take care of it. Will you be around or—”
A tiny woman with blond spiky hair and a huge smile rushed over. “I’m Kitty King, and I’m so sorry I’m late” she said, gasping for breath. “I’m your assistant for the next four days.”
Two hours later, Ellie finally had the time to study her runner, who was no more than five feet tall and looked to be just out of high school. So far, the diminutive girl had worked her butt off, welcoming models, collecting their dogs, kowtowing to designers, and running errands for whoever needed her. She’d even held a one-sided commentary with Rudy, who had found an out-of-theway spot under the table and made it his own.
In short, she’d been a breath of fresh air in the middle of high-fashion chaos.
Because it was near noon, things had quieted down, so Ellie asked Kitty to sit with her next to the water cooler. “You seem to know everyone,” she said. “Have you worked in this industry long?”
“I’ve been an assistant for the past three years while I studied at Parsons School of Design. My brother Jeff—”
“The man who delivered the baskets?”
“Right. When he finally got his big break with NMD, the company sponsoring this event, I got a break, too. He’s their new Director of Promotions, so he’s my boss.”
The information had Ellie recalculating Kitty’s age. “Do you mind if I ask you another personal question?”
“You want to know how old I am, right?”
Pleased to see that Kitty was smiling, she said, “Sorry. You must get that a lot.”
“At least once a week, and I don’t mind.” When Rudy crawled out from under the table and jumped in her lap, Kitty ruffled his ears. “I mean, I’ll probably be happy that I have this baby face in another twenty years or so.” She ran a hand through her blond hair. “I’ll be twenty-five on my next birthday.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. And Rudy seems to like you, too, which is a good sign, considering he doesn’t cuddle up to just anyone.”
Her yorkiepoo gave a groan of contentment under Kitty’s gentle hand. “This chick is too much.”
Unaware of Rudy’s positive comment, Kitty said, “Your boy’s a cutie, but I’m into all dogs. What about you?” Then she giggled. “Oh, gosh, that was a totally dumb thing to say. Of course, you are. I mean, you make your living working with dogs, so you must love them, right?”
“Dogs are the center of my life,” Ellie answered, hoping her sincerity showed. “When I rescued Rudy he rescued me, and he’s become my best four-legged friend. I also walk some of the greatest canines in this city. It’s a treat being here with little guys, because they’re my favorite size.”
“Mine, too,” Kitty said, scratching Rudy under his chin. “But my building is a no-go on pets. As soon as my designs make money, I’m going to move
to a place that will let me have a dog.” She heaved a sigh, leaned back in her chair, and surveyed the people still rushing past. “We may be here all night, even though the designers are supposed to be finished with their first piece by four. The initial runway walk is scheduled to close the day at five, but it’ll be a miracle if they make it on time.”
Ellie’d been hoping to meet someone besides Patti Fallgrave who had an inside track on the fashion business— someone who could fill her in on industry gossip—and it sounded as if Kitty would be able to do just that. “I guess you know quite a bit about this contest? What it took for the designers to get here and all?”
Kitty glanced at the industry professionals walking around the pen, stopping at the watercooler, grazing the snack table, and interacting with the dogs. “This business is crazy. You’ll meet folks from every walk of life here, all hoping for their big break. Each day is different, and I love it that way.”
Ellie moved closer. “But not everyone in the industry is pleasant. There’s back-biting and smack talk, plus a lot of design theft.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Believe me, I know that first hand.”
Before Ellie could comment, a dark-haired woman appeared before them. Dressed in red spandex pants, a red tunic, and red strappy heels, she parted the crowd with her presence. After stowing a huge bag under the table, she set her mini-Schnauzer in the pen with the models’ dogs.
She glared at Kitty. “This is the place where the dogs are being kept for the Nola contest, correct?”
“Hey, Lilah.” Kitty brushed away her tears and sat straighter in her chair. “How are you doing?”
The woman held her hand out to Ellie, acting as if Kitty hadn’t spoken. “I’m Lilah Perry, one of the four designers chosen for this contest. You must be Ellie, the dog sitter.”
“She’s the dog professional, Lilah,” Kitty answered, her voice tight with displeasure. “And one look at the little guys in the pen should tell you where you are.”
“Oh, hello, Kitty,” Lilah said, as if seeing the girl for the first time. “What are you doing here?”
