by Maggie Marr
That I could do. If I just thought about the animals maybe I could pull it off. My hand rubbed across Tucker’s head. I turned toward the door.
“Have fun tonight.” Through the door of Angie’s office, her voice trailed after me. “And stay away from the blow.”
Outside the sunlight bit into my eyes and I slipped my sunglasses from my front pocket. She was right. Angie was always right. A trail of bad memories and wasted days led from L.A. to Pawtown, but in L.A. I had connections to people with deep pockets. People who loved animals. Friends who loved Pawtown and what we did here.
As I walked toward my truck I saw Benito, one of our trainers, in the distance. He waved to me as he walked Chief, a big Saint Bernard and one of our elderly dogs, toward a Pawtown play area where the seniors hung out before the day got too warm. What about Chief and other dogs like him? He most likely wouldn’t find a forever home. He was too old and his healthcare needs were too great, but Chief could live out his life here, with his pack of pals, in a place he loved.
For these guys, my four-legged friends, I’d brave Los Angeles and return to that scene and ask for the help Pawtown desperately needed. I headed toward the adoption building.
A chill raced up my spine. That L.A. scene had nearly taken my life and Angie’s, but I was a different person now. Centered. Contained. Unaffected by the glitter of La La Land. Right? All would be well as long as I kept my ass away from the girls and the drugs.
Too bad a glittery trail of white powder seemed to lead everywhere in L.A.
Sophia
Chanel didn’t deliver racks of clothes to just anyone. You needed to be important, wealthy, and, in my case, beautiful to have them show up with the finest collection of dresses in the world. Waiting for my stylist to unzip the bags and hang these pieces of art so the selection process could begin was almost unbearable.
Damn. There was nothing better than a great Chanel dress. Not even sex. Some of the models on the shoots with me talked about the great sex they had. Great sex? What was great sex? Give me a dress and a pair of Louboutin heels over a romp in bed any day.
As each creation was hung my heart beat faster. The room wasn’t big enough as I paced and eyed each dress as it emerged from its protective bag. Then I heard the front door of the townhouse open. Finally. I rushed to the stairs and took them two at a time. In the living room Ellen dropped her bag and looked up at me. The pair of eyes that stared back at me were identical to my own. Big and brown. While our genes were exactly the same, Ellen and I viewed the world very differently.
“You’re late.”
“I’m right on time.” She unzipped her rolling backpack, which I knew was crammed with heavy medical books.
“Seriously? Books?”
“I have an organic chemistry exam next week. Some of us want to use our brains to make a living.”
“And some of us don’t have to.”
She ignored my words. We were identical in every way except our IQ. Ellen had always been the smart twin. She shared my figure, my skin, my eyes, even my hair. For me, working at my looks was a full time job. So, while Ellen had all the necessary ingredients for the cover of Vogue, she didn’t work them into anything special. No make-up. No Lasik. No hair extensions and color. No workouts. No Botox. Nothing. She wore thick black frames that shrouded her eyes, her hair was pulled back in a scrubby ponytail, her face was makeup-free, and she wore a giant baggy UCLA sweatshirt and dumpy jeans.
Did she even bother to shave her legs?
I worked on my beauty the way Ellen studied for med school, with a furious passion. Ellen got the brains and the looks. Me? Just the looks. Learning had never been easy for me. Books? Not my thing. Organic chemistry? What was that? And why did she care? Ugh. Too much time with a book and I’d pass out from boredom.
Ellen walked to the dining room table and set three ginormous books down. A shudder raced through me. Giant books with horrifyingly long words.
“Seriously, Ellen, it’s Friday.”
“You’re kidding, right? You have no idea how many hours a week I study.”
“As many hours a week as I party?”
Her eyebrow cocked all the way to her hairline. She wouldn’t even favor me with a response. It was as if my life, my world, my raison d’etre was simply too trivial for her.
“Do we have any coffee?” She walked into the kitchen and pulled open a cabinet. “It was your turn to go to the store.”
“No, but I have Adderall.”
“Perhaps Ryan can get you a discount at Clarity when it’s time for you to hit rehab.” She snagged a Diet Coke from the fridge.
“Ha, very funny. Everyone uses Adderall. Don’t tell me that you can study all the time without a boost of something.”
“I don’t need a boost.” She popped open the Diet Coke and sucked it from the can. Couldn’t she at least use a glass? We weren’t animals. “Except for caffeine. You pay for that stuff, one way or another. You’re messing around with your sleep patterns and your brain chemistry and—”
“Please. Everyone except you uses something. I’m fine.” I pulled out a glass, filled it with ice and set it on the table beside her pile of books. Just the idea of spending hours upon hours reading and highlighting and taking notes made me queasy. How did Ellen live like that? Why would she want to? She was just as beautiful as I was and yet she spent all her time in a library, a classroom, or an awful smelling hospital.
My hand grasped the chair beside Ellen’s and I settled into the leather seat. “You know, Beverly asked if you’d ever want to do a photo spread with me.”
The look on Ellen’s face made it unnecessary for her to utter a word. A raised eyebrow, her head tilted to the side, the corner of her lip curled upward—her entire face screamed that the idea of her doing a photo shoot was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “No.”
“The three of us could do it. You, me, Rhett, the Legend kids.”
“Aren’t you forgetting Amanda and Sterling?”
“As if I could.” My gaze roamed across the room to a picture of all five of us kids at Amanda’s wedding. This photo had been taken after Rhett’s late arrival and before Rhett and Sterling beat the shit out of each other. “Okay the Legend-Delgado kids.”
Ellen shook her head and opened her giant book. A dusty mildew smell filled the air. Yuck. Just yuck. Here was an opportunity to be seen by the entire world, loved by the masses, and Ellen would rather sit in a cold room under fluorescent light and read Latin words? How could we be identical twins?
“Again, no.”
“Really? A spread in Vogue and you simply say no.”
“It’s not what I want. You and Rhett want the spotlight. I just want to be a doctor. The idea of a stranger taking photos of me? Seriously, Sophia, it gives me hives just thinking about it.”
My chin settled onto my hand. Pressing Ellen now would get me nowhere. She’d come around. I always got my way. She’d eventually cave because Rhett and I would pick away at her until the only way she could get us to shut up would be to say yes.
“I know that look and I won’t change my mind.”
“Okay.”
“Right. You don’t fool me.” She flipped a page in her book and picked up a yellow highlighter. The edge of her left hand was stained the same color from dragging it over her book. I just didn’t get it. And her fingernails? The skin around her nails was red and raw.
“Oh my God, Ellen, look at your nails!”
She tucked one hand under her thigh and chewed on the inside of her cheek.
“I have exams.” Her face turned pink. She tore at the skin around her nails when she was stressed, but I hadn’t seen her cuticles look this bloody in years. “First year of med school isn’t easy.”
“I guess not.” My heart ached a little. Why she had to become a doctor was beyond me. She could become a model, or work as a film producer with Sterling, or even get a job at Left Coast in the music industry, but instead she chose to go to medical scho
ol. Ugh. Give me a mani-pedi over an anatomy exam any time.
“Sophia, we’re ready for you!” My stylist called from upstairs.
I rested my hand on Ellen’s shoulder. “I’ll go first. You study.” If she got an hour with her books she’d be in a much better mood. I mean, she was going to help people when she became a doctor. She would save lives and do great things. Ellen liked to pretend that she had everything under control, but she didn’t. Her nails told me just how stressed she was. Bloody red cuticles. Poor Ellen. “Want me to pick out a couple dresses you might like?”
She nodded but didn’t turn her face toward me. Instead she stared at all those words in her big book. The hint of pink on her cheeks told me all I needed to know. I didn’t even need to ask. We could almost feel each other’s emotions. The ache deep in my chest told me that Ellen was hurting. She was embarrassed and confused. The twin who always got it right, who never had a problem, was struggling, and me beating her up about being a brainiac wasn’t helping.
“Okay, I’ll call you when I’m ready.” I walked up the stairs toward what I loved and left Ellen behind with her musty books and torn-up nails.
Chapter 3
Trick
“Yo, Trick!” Luis called from behind the swing-through gate that led to the greeting rooms at the adoption center. “I got your guys back here. You ready for them? Want me to bring them out?”
“Yeah, sure thing. I’ll meet you at my truck.”
Luis walked out the side door. Bullet lay in the crook of Luis’s arm all calm and nonchalant, but his tail gave away his excitement. He jerked his head up and his big eyes widened the closer that Luis got to my truck. He knew he was going someplace, and that was enough to get this Chihauahau-lhasa apso mix fired up. Dillon’s dog, Kong, was a one-of-a-kind dog and he could never be replaced, but I wanted a pup with just as much personality for Choo. Bullet was the perfect match. Carson, a shepherd mix, trotted next to Luis. This dog was smart and he was a pure athlete. Carson would fit with Jackson, plus Carson got along well with Bullet. Not all dogs were able to handle Bullet’s bossy nature.
“You want them in the backseat?”
“Yes, thanks. Make sure they’re strapped in.”
I grabbed their pet carriers and put them in the bed of the truck. Most likely these guys wouldn’t be crated much but, hey, everybody liked to know they had a home and it was always best to travel with crates, just in case you needed one.
“Bullet and Carson are going to love Choo,” Luis said with a smile on his face.
“Who doesn’t love Choo?”
Luis slapped the palm of my hand. Choo was a big character with a load of personality. The people at Pawtown were big fans of his.
“Travel safe, brother.” Concern filtered through his eyes and I knew he was worried about my trip to L.A. Most of us two-footed creatures had traveled a rough and winding path before ending up here at Pawtown, and Luis was no exception. We all had stories. Luis’s road to Pawtown had been harder than mine. But we were here. A small group saving the world, one dog at a time. Pawtown was my pack and most everybody here knew about the problems I’d faced in L.A.
“See you next week, Luis.” I slid behind the wheel of my truck and fired up the engine. My fingers tightened around the wheel. L.A. How long had it been since the last time I’d been there? The gravel popped beneath the tires of my truck as I drove down the long drive. I rolled down the window and rested my arm on the ledge. My belly tightened. Damn, I really was on my way to Los Angeles. I glanced into the rearview mirror. Carson was settled on the backseat with the dog seatbelt secured around him. Bullet sat up straight, as though he needed to see out the window and know where we were going. Tiny whines came from his throat. It was as if he knew he was leaving Pawtown and was going somewhere he’d never been before. He was scared.
“Buddy, it’s okay. I promise you’re going to love it at Choo and Jackson’s house. I’m taking you to doggie paradise. Seriously, you couldn’t ask for a better home.”
And that was the honest-to-God truth. There weren’t many people who loved animals as much as I did, but two of them were the brothers Dillon and Choo MacAvoy. Brothers who’d been raised on a farm and had transplanted to L.A. Dillon was a big action star now. They’d always remained grounded, even after they became very involved in the Hollywood scene. Helping something or someone was ingrained in their DNA.
Wow. What if I’d been smart enough to discover earlier that the road to happiness was through service? I could have saved myself a world of heartache. As it was, I wasn’t proud of all the shit I’d managed to destroy on the way to getting where I was today. Maybe there would have been marriage and a wife and kids, and a life that still included acting.
And a sister who was not confined to a wheelchair.
What a fuckup.
I turned onto the highway. Bullet finally settled down on the back seat. I flipped on the radio. There was no way I wanted to be alone with all my thoughts for the two-hour drive to Los Angeles. Right now, those thoughts were ugly mean fuckers that seemed to have found a way out of their cage.
*
“Guys, welcome to the land of the crazy.” The dogs perked up, sensing we had arrived at wherever it was I was taking them. I pulled the truck to a stop in Choo and Jackson’s driveway. Their place wasn’t far from Dillon and Lane’s house, but since the MacAvoys were dealing with a brand new baby, I’d decided to stay with Choo while I was in Los Angeles. Plus, being here was a great way for me to see how Bullet and Carson adapted to their new home.
I unsnapped Carson and he jumped from the backseat and landed effortlessly onto the drive. He sat on the pavers and waited for my instructions. He was coiled tight like a spring, but he was also an obedient and loving dog that wanted to please his humans. I unsnapped Bullet and he stood on the backseat picking up one paw at a time, like a tiny little victory dance. He barked at me. Quick yaps, to tell me I wasn’t moving fast enough. While we’d stopped on the drive so they could get out and run around for a few minutes, I knew they were both anxious to get moving.
“Give me a minute.” I grabbed my duffel bag from the truck bed.
Yap! Yap!
“I know, buddy, just one more thing.” I reached around Bullet and grabbed my hanging bag. I hoped this monkey suit still fit. The last time I wore the Armani was when I’d won an Emmy. With the hanging bag folded over my forearm, I picked up Bullet with my other hand.
“Daaaaamn! You did bring me dogs!” The voice halted me in my tracks. Choo stood just inside the front door with his hip cocked. Bullet leapt from my arms like he knew Choo already. In an instant he was at Choo’s feet. Choo bent over and scooped up Bullet. Bullet’s little body wiggled and his tongue licked all over Choo’s face.
“Meet Bullet and Carson.” I said.
“Look at you! Aren’t you the cutest little boy on the planet?” Choo lifted Bullet up above his head and Bullet wiggled and whined with excitement.
“Looks like that’s a match.” Jackson walked up behind Choo. “Lots of personality.” Jackson looked toward me. “Just exactly what we need more of around this house.” He had a more solid build than Choo, but he was about the same height. Together, Choo and Jackson were an impressive couple.
Carson now sat in the center of the front sidewalk. His gaze traveled from me to Jackson and back again. I nodded at him. “Go on.”
Jackson stepped around where Choo and Bullet canoodled in the doorway of the house and bent forward. He spoke to Carson and patted his leg, “Come here, Carson, come here boy.”
Jackson didn’t have to ask Carson twice. Well-behaved and obedient, Carson was excited to meet his new human. Jackson stroked his hand over Carson’s thick fur and told him what a good boy he was.
Wow. I didn’t need to stay a minute longer. All four of them would do just fine. In fact, this little love fest made me odd man out until the adoption event tomorrow. A smile curved across my face. I’d take it. Two more saved lives and I wasn’t just t
alking about the dogs, although the dogs had found their forever home, too. Seriously, that’s how I thought of what we did at Pawtown. The dogs saved us most the time, not the other way around.
“Man, I’m sorry,” Jackson jumped to his feet and Carson pressed against his lower leg. “Trick it’s great to see you!” He slapped my back. “You got this right!” He looked at Carson and then his gaze turned to Choo and Bullet.
“Oh, my, God!” Choo said. “Honey, you had better look out because I have found my new love.”
“Okay, Baby,” Jackson leaned closer to me. “Thank you. If Choo’s happy then I’m happy.”
I couldn’t help but smile. I understood this to be the case with all couples. When one was miserable, everyone was miserable.
Jackson added, “He misses Kong and Bernie and Scorsese and Spielberg. I mean, we go over there nearly every day, but my man loves his dogs and he wants some at our house.”
Jackson walked toward the door where Choo, with Bullet still in his arms, had retreated. Carson walked beside Jackson as if he’d done it all his life. “And this guy,” Jackson’s hand patted Carson’s head. “I can already tell this guy is going to love running with me every morning.” Carson’s tail beat back and forth, because as much as humans think that dogs don’t speak our language, I knew otherwise. Carson was active and so was Jackson, and these two were a perfect match.
Their housekeeper greeted me at the door and took my garment bag. I followed Choo and Jackson through the house out to the back patio. Beers were in a bucket on the table.
“Stella?” Jackson asked.
“After that drive? Yes, please.”
Jackson grabbed a beer, twisted it open, and handed it to me. Choo sat on the patio couch with his feet tucked up under him and Bullet curled up on his lap.
“He is going to love meeting Kong,” Choo said as he stroked the top of Bullet’s head.
“I’m not so sure about that, Honey.” Jackson settled next to Choo. “They’re both pretty strong personalities in little packages.”
