by Traci Hall
“Good for business,” Jennifer said proudly. “Now to get those treats sold.”
“What do you think of them?” Franco asked.
“My dogs love them.” Jennifer hiked her large pink purse up her arm. “I was fond of the berry ones myself.”
Franco laughed. “I’m excited to hear your ideas for marketing, Sarah. Have you come up with anything?”
“Well, Martin and I brainstormed—he knows somebody that can get us inexpensive glass jars in bulk. I’m keeping it super simple.”
He shook his head and shrugged. “Simple can work, but in order to sell to high-end clients, it can’t look cheap.”
She flinched as if he’d said something wrong. “I know that, Franco.”
He held up his hand. “I did not mean to insult you,” he said.
Sarah stuck her hands in her front pockets, her eyes glittering with hurt pride. “Maybe you can’t help it. My reality is way different than yours. I am not buying cut crystal containers, all right? I can afford glass.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” he agreed. “It will just have to look the part.” He wished he hadn’t said anything. What did she mean, that their reality was different? Money? He was trying to help her!
Sarah backed up a few steps. “We thought of a name already too. Happy Treats Bakery. We can have an entire line of Happy treats.” Her stance, feet planted and chin lifted, let him know she’d stand up for what she believed in. “We’re going all-in starting this new business. In fact, we’re sending the samples out for inspection this week.”
“Be careful,” he warned. “That can cost a lot when you aren’t expecting it.” Starting another business when the other one wasn’t going well might not be in her best interest.
Impossible how high her chin hiked. Her shoulders went back, too.
“I’ve had my own businesses,” she said in clipped tones. “I know what to do.”
He didn’t understand why she seemed so angry. “I have someone in mind for marketing. I can make a phone call.”
“I can do this myself, Franco.” She pulled her hands from her pockets, one hand fisted around her keys.
“As a favor to me,” he said, wondering if she was upset by the possible cost. It was true he had money, but he viewed it as a means to an end.
“No, thank you.”
“Sarah?” Jennifer asked. “Maybe a phone call isn’t a bad idea. Getting a new business off the ground takes hard work, which you’ve done, honey. And a little bit of luck can’t hurt.”
Sarah’s nostrils flared and she slipped her sunglasses on to cover her eyes but Franco could tell she was mad.
What in the hell was her problem? Her mom seemed willing to listen to reason. Hard work mattered, but an element of you who knew in the world mattered too.
“We can talk about this later,” Franco said. “It’s been a busy morning. And Bella and I still have to see the puppies.”
Sarah’s chin lowered and she turned her attention from her mother to him. “Really? What kind?”
“Chi-poo.”
Bella burst out laughing and he put his hand on the top of her head as a reminder to keep their poo joke to themselves.
Sarah’s lips twitched as she looked at Bella. He liked that she didn’t take her anger out on anybody else. She didn’t hold a grudge. “Oh?”
“What will they think of next?” Jennifer asked with surprise. “I can’t imagine they’d be very cute!”
Bella piped up. “They are so ugly they are cute, Myra said.”
“Who is Myra?” Sarah asked, and Franco wondered at the overly-casual inflection in her voice. Was she the smallest bit jealous? Or was that him, wishful thinking?
“She works at the pet store.” Bella tilted her head. “She’s nice.”
“You should come in and meet her.” Franco lifted his iPad, but that wasn’t what was ringing. Myra might not take kindly to Sarah, now that he thought about it. As far as he was concerned, they were over the citation. Myra? Not so much. “See the chi-poo puppy, if we get one.”
“Daddy, that’s your phone,” Bella laughed. She dug in his front jean’s pocket and pulled it out. “Here.”
He saw the number, but didn’t recognize it. A text immediately followed.
“Well, Bella, it looks like we have our afternoon free.” He swallowed disappointment, but then eyed Sarah. “They are rescheduling our meeting for tomorrow morning at ten.”
Bella’s lower lip stuck out and quivered. “I wanted to see a chi-poo.”
“Did you say poo?” Franco asked.
*****
Sarah looked at her mother, laughing at poo jokes as if she thought they were funny. Sarah would have been popped upside the head. Or maybe she was remembering a woman who had evolved since then, too. Change. Growth. Grr.
“So, can you help me, Sarah?”
Sarah pulled her attention to Franco, trying to let go of her anger. He had tons of money, so he probably didn’t even realize that it was a touchy subject. But advising her to be careful as if she didn’t know what she was doing? She shook her head. “I’m sorry? What did you say?”
“Come with me to check out the puppies tomorrow. The breeder says she’s got eight for sale. That seems like a lot.”
Her protective instincts rose to the fore. Eight would be a very large litter. “Unless she’s combined two litters?”
“I can pick you up at seven,” he offered.
Her mom looked at her with a twinkle behind her glasses. “I have tomorrow off from work, Sarah, so I can cover the phone for you. Leave the truck, and Martin will handle the calls.”
If she said no now she’d look like a jerk, and she’d already way over-reacted to his offer of help. But dang it, he’d nicked her pride with his reaction to her glass jars, which were what she could afford. She didn’t need a phone call to a marketing guy when she wasn’t even sure she could sell a thousand boxes. What if the treats flopped?
Having her mom push her into Franco’s car added to her irritability. Sarah was attracted to the man, plain and simple, but he was out of her league. According to him, she couldn’t even be trusted with good taste.
Keep that separate, she told herself firmly. Busting bad breeders was her mission, and this was a great opportunity to check out one she’d never heard of before.
“All right,” she said with less grace than she should have.
“Sarah, will you get the black one?” Bella asked as they all walked out of the tent. Somehow, Franco was carrying the crates and the table while she had the large box she’d kept the kittens in, and her mom had the plastic bins.
“We can see what they have, Bella. If they are healthy and your dad thinks that is the best one for your store, then we’ll try.”
Franco chuckled at her side. “That was a great non-answer. Satisfying without promising anything. I need to learn how to do that.”
“You’re doing fine.” They reached her truck and together piled everything in the back. She softened, acknowledging his help with the oldest dog and the crates. And the treats, and the offer of a marketing guy. It was a lot for a woman used to scraping things together on her own. “You’re a great dad.”
Franco took Bella’s hand. “I will see you in the morning, Sarah. It was a pleasure to meet you, Jennifer.”
She and her mom waved and got into the cab of her truck.
“He is delicious, Sarah. You are in deep water. You don’t have to save him, or his daughter. They are doing all right.” Her mom sat back, checking him out in the side mirror.
“Agreed, he doesn’t need saving. You’re the one that just pushed us together for tomorrow!” And now she was nervous and knew she wouldn’t sleep tonight. Again. “I don’t need rescuing, either. Did you hear what he said?”
“Yeah. The big jerk offered to help,” her mom said with an exaggerated laugh. “You don’t have to do everything on your own.”
Sarah clenched her jaw. She’d always done things that way. “Relying on other peo
ple is a recipe for disaster.”
“Oh, Sarah. Bend a little. Flirt a little. Just be careful.”
“How about you go out on your date, and leave me to helping a friend check out a new breeder. It’s what I do, Mom. There is nothing between me and Franco.”
Her mom took her glasses off and stared at her, hard. “Who are you kidding? He’s attracted to you, Sarah. And you feel it too. How could you not? He’s a sexy man. He’s been wounded in life and that gives him an edge, and you, with your generous heart, can’t help but want to mend him. I know you, honey.”
She started the car, her legs shaking. “I think you’re making too much of it. We are friends. That’s all.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.
Sarah drove the last few blocks in silence, her mind all over the place as she tried to sort out her feelings. Why was she attracted to Franco? He wasn’t her type.
It didn’t matter, she decided firmly as she pulled into the empty parking lot at the warehouse. The feelings couldn’t go anywhere. She wouldn’t let them, for Bella’s sake. Someday Franco would fall in love with someone who could be a mother, the perfect wife.
With the right pedigree. The right background. Not me.
She and her mom put away the crates, greeting Nashville who didn’t budge from her bed by the window. “Are you sure you want to come in on your day off?”
“I love it here,” Jennifer said. “It’s quiet and I get to read or play with the animals. Nashville actually sits on my lap when you aren’t around.”
“Really?” The cat was contrary, no doubt about it.
“Yep.”
“Well, we just have the bunny, the iguana and that black Tom left.” She shrugged. “But it can change so quickly. One phone call is all it takes and we could be back to a full house.”
As if she willed it to happen, her phone rang. Sharing a smile with her mother, Sarah shrugged and answered. “Pet Rescue, how can we help you today?”
She listened as the man she’d given the ticket to for the barking dog yelled so loudly her mom could hear it from where she stood.
“Yes, sir. You have to pay the ticket. As you’ll see, I left you literature on ways to keep your dog happy while you aren’t home. I realize you work full time.”
Sarah winced as the man went through every swear word he knew before finally telling her to come get the dog before he let it loose, then he hung up.
“Want to go for a ride, Mom?”
“I don’t think it is safe, Sarah. What if he attacks you?”
“That doesn’t happen in real life. That poor animal! If his owner has such a short temper, what do you think we’ll find?” People could be so cruel to animals that relied solely on human kindness.
“I’ll have the cops on speed dial,” her mom decided, determination in the set of her shoulders.
“I have my taser. In the glove box.”
“Sarah. Is that even legal?”
“For self-defense purposes. I have the civilian version and a permit, anyway.”
Her mom nodded, her mouth grim. “Let’s go.”
They got back into the truck together, tension thick.
Sarah thought of all the things that could go wrong. “Maybe you should stay here, Mom…”
“I’m going.” Her mom clamped onto the inside of the passenger seat. “How far is it?”
“Five minutes. But you’ll be surprised at the change in scenery.” It amazed her that such a beautiful, rich place could have pockets of poverty.
Sarah slowly pulled up in front of the forlorn looking house. Decrepit, unpainted steps leading to a buckled porch. The front door was wide open, a dog the size of a chocolate lab chained to the pillar. Of course, it was barking.
A neighbor saw Sarah arrive and high-tailed it out of her own house as Sarah selected supplies from the back of her truck. This lady had seen better days, if her satin robe was anything to go by. Grown-out dyed blonde hair and a cigarette dangling from her lip completed her downgrade.
“You just missed ‘im, the bastard.” She flicked her ash to the street and kept the cigarette clamped firmly between her fingers. “Took off without payin’ his rent. Damn dog won’t stop barkin’, can’t sleep, can’t have company over. Can’t hear the TV.”
Sarah smiled in commiseration, not wanting to go for any more details of the woman’s life. “Did he say where?” If the dog was hurt...
“Probably Georgia. He got family there.” The woman took a deep drag of her cigarette, and squinted against the light. “My man wants to shut this dog up, got it?” She drew her finger across her throat.
“That won’t be necessary.” Sarah’s stomach sank and anger welled inside her. She walked toward the porch and the miserable animal. It wasn’t his fault his owner had been irresponsible. She could count his ribs and saw sores along his back. Resolve gave her courage and she turned her back on the woman to face the dog. “I’m here. I’ve got this now.”
She felt her mother come up at her side as she studied the growling animal. “Do you need treats? A muzzle? You don’t know what this dog has, honey.” Sarah hadn’t heard her mom so quietly furious in a very long time. “It’s good he went back to Georgia, that man. I want to wring his neck.”
Sarah stood at the bottom step, feeling sorry for the dog as it lunged at her, scared and angry. “It’s all right, pooch,” she crooned, tears in her eyes. She pulled the thick gloves from her back pocket and slipped them on. “Mom, could you get a bowl from the back and fill it with water? I’ve got a jug next to a baggie of dog food. Bring that too.”
“Whatchya gonna do?” the woman asked, coughing into her fist as she flicked her cigarette butt to the dead grass in the front yard.
“Take care of him,” Sarah said, doing her best not to judge. It wasn’t easy, but she focused on what she could fix. The dog. Part Pit Bull and part Lab, he had a stocky, barrel-shaped body and a strong jaw. His eyes were wild with fear and as she put her foot on the bottom stair, the dog winced and lunged.
She wanted to pull the dog in for a hug, but he’d tear her head off.
“Here, Sarah,” her mom said, joining her on the bottom step. “Water and food.”
“The chain is really short. He can’t reach that far. I’m going to climb over the rail and meet him on the porch. Skip the stairs.”
“Be careful!”
Sarah pulled herself up and over, landing on the porch with a thunk that made the dog go crazy. “It’s all right,” Sarah sang. “I know I’m in your territory, but I just want to help. Okay?”
Her mom handed her the water dish, which Sarah slid across the wood to the dog. He eyed the water, but wouldn’t stop barking long enough to drink.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” Sarah sat down, her back against the side of the house, letting the dog get used to her. To realize she wasn’t a threat.
Ten minutes passed and the barks slowed then at last stopped. Sarah, who had been looking at the sky and counting clouds while thinking of ways to make Georgia pay for his cruelty, heard the sloppy slurps of a thirsty dog.
Slowly, she rolled food his way a few nuggets at a time. She inched closer as he ate until she was able to feed him from her gloved hand. Sarah quickly attached the muzzle over him. He snapped and she jumped back but she didn’t let go.
Crooning to him as she pet him, Sarah wanted to let him know he was safe. The dog shook with nerves as he panted, his eyes wild. He growled low in his chest. “I won’t hurt you, okay?”
The dog trembled. Barked in warning.
“Careful, Sarah,” her mom said, standing by the porch.
“I know.” She slowly got up, attached a chest harness and a leash, and led the dog down the stairs.
The neighbor, who’d stayed to watch the entire thing while smoking two more cigarettes, huffed. “Never heard that dog quiet before.”
“Have a nice day,” Sarah said as politely as she could. Her entire body was jumping with adrenalin. Sorrow, righteous anger and nowhere to put it. She
coaxed the dog into the back of the truck, securing him a kennel.
He was calm now, but shivering with fear of the unknown.
Sarah got in the truck, shut the door and blinked tears from her eyes. Her mom said, “What are we going to do with him?”
“I’m going to get him set up at the warehouse,” she said. “He needs a bath and check-up before I can integrate him with the others.”
“Are you sure, Sarah? He could be really dangerous.”
“Mom, it’s what I do. The whole point of Pet Rescue is dogs like him.” Unwanted. Abused. “I think he’ll be fine after a day or two. An air-conditioned warehouse with room to run and food and water will be like heaven.”
“Nobody yelling at him. Beating him.” Her mom clenched her fists against her denim-clad thighs.
“He’s safe now, Mom.”
“I have never been more proud of you, Sarah. But I was this close,” she put her fingers together an inch apart, “to punching that woman in the face.”
Chapter Thirteen
Franco arrived at Pet Rescue at 7:00 on the dot, eager to see Sarah. He told himself the anticipation in his veins had everything to do with getting new stock for the pet store and nothing to do with a certain blonde with golden skin.
Today he brought his 458 Italia Ferrari he used when he wasn’t driving the Volvo and Bella around. There was nothing quite like opening up on the road, full throttle. He had the tickets to prove it.
Going inside, he was greeted by yipping and then a loud growling that didn’t sound like it came from the toy Pom or the Chihuahua. He scowled, took off his Armani sunglasses and blinked into the room.
Jennifer Murphy had hold of an angry dark brown dog the size of a pony, a pinch collar around its gigantic neck. Benny and Pippa yapped from behind their barricade in the kitchen.
“Quiet, Buster,” Jennifer said.
