by Susan Hatler
“Only if the guys are honest in their profile. Do you know how many horror stories I’ve heard?”
“That’s why it’s only part of Detailed Dating’s process. It’s not like they recommend marrying someone off their profile alone.” I laughed.
“Still, online dating feels too clinical to me.” She fished in a drawer, then handed me an extendable leash that had a plastic handle with blue plastic bags attached. “I’m more into chemistry and a good vibe.”
My mouth twisted. “Says the girl who’s going out with some guy she’s never met because he looks good without a shirt on.”
“Touché.”
I took a deep breath, but my voice still cracked a little when I said, “Why do you think Gina set you up with Dillon and not me?”
She leaned on the counter across from me and stared into my eyes. “Does that bug you?”
I shrugged, feeling rejected. “Maybe a little . . .”
She grasped my hands. “Sweetie, you’ve been raving about Detailed Dating for practically a month. She probably figures that’s working for you whereas I’m a pathetic mess who needs help.”
I wanted to laugh at her attempted joke, but my eyes filled with tears instead. Maybe Gina wasn’t the reason I felt rejected.
Her hands tightened around my own. “Ellen, what’s going on?”
My shoulders rose and my throat burned. “I’m not sure. I was talking to my mom earlier and she mentioned Bob, Frank . . . and my dad.”
Her eyes grew large. “In what context?”
I blinked back tears and swiped at my nose. “Basically, she said how she screwed up with them and I shouldn’t make the same mistake. It shouldn’t bother me.” Logically, I knew this. My dad had been absent most of my life and I didn’t owe him one ounce of loyalty. “But she said that my dad didn’t count. Since she hadn’t married him, he didn’t count.”
Rachel leaned on her elbow and gave me a stern look. “Of course he counts. I’m sure it’s just her way of getting over it. Since he left her and all.”
“He left me, too. And I’m not the one who chose him. She did.” My eyes burned and the hole in my chest ached. I shook my head. “She picked someone who didn’t want kids, who wasn’t compatible with her. When I marry, it has to be to a guy who’s stable and in it for the long run. I have to know everything about him to make sure I choose someone who would never desert me. Ever.”
She blew out a breath. “If we only had a crystal ball.” Her lips tightened. “Then, I’d have seen Jeremy’s true colors and not wasted two years of my life on that slime bag.”
“Exactly,” I said, wishing we could see the future and know if it would all work out. “All I can do is take every step possible to make sure we’re compatible so it will last.”
“Even so, you’re not going to get a sealed guarantee,” Rachel said, glumly.
Knock. Knock.
We both jumped as someone rapped on her front door. Dillon, no doubt.
Turning back to me, she said, “And with that cheery thought . . . ”
“Sorry. I’m ruining your first date in six months.” I groaned, then picked up Chester’s leash off the counter and waved toward the front door. “Ignore my dark side and have fun. And don’t worry about your mutt either. I’ll keep him entertained.”
She gave me a quick hug, started toward the door, then turned back. “I can cancel if you’re upset.”
“No way. I’m fine.” I held up the leash. “Chester and I will go for a walk and get some fresh air.”
“Thanks, Ellen. We’ll find the right guy for us. Or, at least die trying.” She winked at me, then opened the front door and greeted her hot date.
Unable to resist a peek, I leaned sideways to see if he looked as good in person as he did in his beach photo. Sandy-brown hair, broad build, and that dynamic smile. Ooh, baby.
After a polite exchange between them, the front door closed, and all was quiet in the apartment. Chester trotted over to the door with his tail high, sniffed at the weather strip, then started whining.
Once I heard car doors slam outside, I clipped the leash onto Chester’s collar. He stopped whining, nudged my hand with his wet nose, and looked up at me expectantly.
“It’s just you and me tonight, chew monster.” I watched his brown ears prick up. “If you meet any pretty pups tonight, do me a favor. Don’t romance them if you’re not going to follow through. Being abandoned is no picnic.”
Arf! Arf!
As Chester wagged his tail, my lips curved up slightly. His cheerful yips seemed to tell me not to worry. My mouth thinned when I realized this was what my life had come to. Getting advice on men from a four-month-old miniature beagle who, let’s face it, hadn’t exactly been around the block.
****
After a twenty-minute walk, I arrived back at Rachel’s apartment with her pint-sized dog who’d felt the need to lift his leg at practically every tree we passed. He’d even attempted to water a parked SUV’s rear tire but I’d managed to tug him away in time.
I shut the front door, unhooked Chester’s leash from his collar, and dropped the apartment key onto the wooden entry table. Setting my purse on the arm of the couch, I searched through the mess for my phone while vowing, once again, to finally clean out my handbag. Right.
Once I located my cell, my stomach growled so I raided Rachel’s freezer. While waiting for my microwave dinner to “cook,” I propped myself onto a barstool and unlocked the keypad on my phone. I slid my finger across the screen to see if I had any Detailed Dating emails. Oh, got one!
To: smrt4ever
From: jusUnME
Ellen, I’ve enjoyed our discussions over the past few weeks and feel that you’re both witty and intelligent—an ideal combination. On my end, we’ve progressed through Detailed Dating’s “initial screening” process, so if you’re interested in the “face-to-face” part of DD’s procedure, perhaps you are free for dinner tomorrow night? You’ve mentioned your affinity for chow mein, so I thought Wok N’ Roll in Old Sac might be to your liking? Would seven-thirty work? Look forward to hearing from you. — Craig
I gazed at the humming microwave and considered his offer. Since I’d been planning on initiating the face-to-face, as well, that meant jusUnME and I were on the same page, just as I’d expected. I liked his take charge without being obnoxious ways, too. Guys who expect their girlfriend to plan everything? I’d pass. I prefer someone who could actually pick up the phone to make dinner reservations and, if I’m really lucky, call the babysitter to watch our two kids. I’d been planning on suggesting a coffee date (easier for a fast getaway, if needed), but he’d chosen the restaurant based on our previous exchanges and my preferences. Another point in his favor, which made up my mind. The entrepreneur would be my first face-to-face!
To: jusUnME
From: smrt4ever
Craig, Tomorrow night sounds fun. Thanks for giving in on our Chinese food debate. We’ll make sure not to order anything spicy for you! Looking forward to dinner and I’ll see you at seven-thirty. ☺ Ellen
After I hit SEND, the microwave went ding. Perfect timing.
I eased off the chair, removed a plate from the cupboard, and opened the microwave door. The smell of alfredo sauce wafted up my nose. Yum.
Hagh! Hagh!
At the unusual noise, my head whipped toward the living room, eyes scanning the room for the source of the strange sounds.
Hagh! Hagh!
My eyes froze on the spot where Rachel’s Snoopy-looking destroyer had apparently knocked over my purse—the contents dribbled from the arm of the couch, to the seat cushions, and onto the floor. The four-legged terror stood with his mouth wide as he continued making awful choking noises.
“Oh, no!” I ran over to Chester, who backed away, somehow managing to look guilty even as he hacked loudly. I grabbed my bag and searched for what he might’ve eaten. “What is wrong with you, dog? Have you no self-control?”
Hagh! Hagh!
In my purs
e, I pushed aside my wallet, hairbrush, and a bottle of aspirin, which I frantically examined . . . still capped, thank goodness. Various lip-glosses lay strewn across the couch, several canine-sized holes in the plastic tubes oozing various shades of pink onto the beige sofa. Could designer lip-gloss be toxic to dogs? I stared at Chester as he began foaming at the mouth.
My hands flew to the sides of my head, gripping my hair between my fingers. “Is he dying? What should I do?” My heart raced and I tried to take deep calming breaths to no avail. “Rachel’s going to kill me!”
I couldn’t call her, that’s for sure. She would freak and we didn’t have time for that. I had to act quickly. Who could help? Oh, wait. An animal doctor. Duh. I raced to the counter where I’d left my phone, and used my search app to locate the closest one.
Three blocks away. I could get there in time. At least I hoped.
“Hang on, Chester.” I grabbed his leash, a kitchen towel, and what was left of my shredded handbag. “We’re going to the vet.”
****
A hair before 6:00 p.m., Chester and I rushed into All Things Furry. Ignoring the people in the waiting room—there were a surprising amount for a Monday evening—I raced to the counter, but nobody was behind it.
“Hello?!” I rang the metal bell, obsessively. “I need help please. Emergency!”
Hagh-ech! Hagh-ech!
Holding Rachel’s bright yellow dishtowel under Chester’s saliva-dripping mouth, I panicked at the morphed sounds he was making. “Hang in there, dude.”
I shifted him in my arms then slammed on the metal bell some more. “Does anyone work here?”
“Can I help?” A male voice came from behind me.
“Yes, this dog got into my purse and—” I paused mid-sentence as my gaze met dark gray eyes that sent a bolt of adrenaline through me. My heart flipped in my chest. Not an appropriate reaction when Rach’s dog could be dying. “I-I think he ate something toxic. Maybe my lip-gloss? Are you the vet? Can you give him that charcoal stuff to make him barf it up?”
He studied Chester’s half-open mouth. “Try setting him down. I’ll take a look.”
“Thanks.” I knelt, still holding the towel under his mouth—because, ew, slobber all over the place.
The vet dropped to his knees next to Chester and pried his little jaw open.
Hech! Hech!
As he examined the dog’s throat, I couldn’t help checking him out. There was something going on behind those dark eyes that had me dying to learn everything about him. Where he was from, what made him tick, what he looked for in a girl . . .
My pulse slammed into overdrive.
Weird that the vet was wearing sweats, though. Maybe he’d finished with his last patient and was going for a run? Definitely looked like a guy who worked out regularly. Yeah, that’s what I should be thinking about while my friend’s dog was gagging for his life. What was wrong with me? Focus, Ellen. “Can you save him?”
“Hang on a sec.” As Chester strained away from him, he reached his thumb and index finger down his throat. “I think I’ve found the culprit.”
With both hands, I tried my best to hold the squiggly pup in place. Couldn’t the dog understand we were trying to save his miniature beagle life?
From deep down Chester’s throat, he pulled out a huge glob of wet, dirty-blond hair. Yuck.
“It looks prettier on your head,” he said, a hint of laughter in his voice.
I cringed, wrapping the mangled hair into a napkin from my purse. “Uh, well . . .”
Okay, so I keep a hairbrush in my handbag. And I don’t clean it regularly. How could I have known some freakoid dog would snack on it?
“I think you’re gonna live.” The guy rubbed a hand across the moronic pup’s black, brown and white head. “What’s his name?”
“Chester.” Relieved that he was going to be fine, I watched as the ungrateful animal wriggled away, lifted his hind foot, and scratched his ear without so much as a look of appreciation. “And yours is Dr . . . ?”
“Henry.” He reached out to shake my hand.
“I’m Ellen.” When I slipped my hand into his firm grasp, my insides warmed. And, okay, I probably held on longer than I needed to. Snap out of it, girl. “You’re the vet?”
“Me? No.” He stood and brushed dog hair off his pants. “We’re here for dog obedience school.”
“We?” My heart sank and I scanned the room for his wife or girlfriend.
“Kenzie and me.” He gestured toward the big black lab I hadn’t noticed hiding under a chair. “Found her wandering by the side of the freeway last month. She was skin and bones. I called the local shelters and checked the newspaper, but nothing. Someone must’ve dumped her.”
“That’s too bad.” Her weight seemed healthy now, thanks to her new owner. Compassionate and perhaps single? No ring, but he could be dating someone. Or two someones. Or five. Too many unanswered questions. Despite my attraction to him, I reminded myself why I’d signed up for Detailed Dating. So they could ask all the hard questions and I would have the answers. All I had to do was check a guy’s profile to see if he was A) single and dating; B) single and looking for an exclusive relationship; C) single and looking for a casual relationship (aka: hook-ups). Meeting a cute guy on my own left too many unknowns to stress over. Time to go. “Well, thank you so much for your help, Henry.”
“Anytime.” He seemed to take my hint, nodded, then went over to Kenzie (who nuzzled his leg as soon as he sat down in the leather chair).
I found his pup’s cuddling adorable. The dog had been scared stiff a moment ago, but obviously felt safe with Henry.
I’d been the one to cut our conversation short, but the distance between us suddenly felt wrong. When I realized I was standing in the middle of the room all by myself, I felt lame. So, I started toward the door and then realized I didn’t have Chester with me. I quickly scanned the room. No! No! No!
First, I’d nearly killed him. Now, I’d lost him. Rachel had way too much faith in my dog-sitting abilities.
“He’s over there.” A white-haired woman with a poodle on her lap pointed toward a potted plant in the corner of the room. Chester was gnawing on one of its leaves.
A little boy near the front door snickered. “Your dog totally needs obedience school.”
“That’s not polite, Junior.” His mother scrunched up her nose, the expression implying she agreed with her son but wasn’t going to say it.
It annoyed me that the woman had judged my friend’s dog. Especially because she was correct in her assessment. But, that wasn’t the spoiled beagle’s fault. Like the kid said, the poor mutt had never been trained.
“Come on, Chester.” As I tugged him away from the plant, the back door opened.
A young blonde wearing pink velour sweatpants with a matching zip-up hoody stepped into the lobby checking her clipboard. “Good evening, everyone. I’m Abby Wilson and welcome to Simply Skilled. I take it you’re all here for dog obedience class?”
Affirmations sounded throughout the room and one in particular stood out. Hearing Henry’s voice tugged at something inside me.
I raised my hand. “Is it too late to sign up?”
****
Glancing around the waiting room at the gold-framed puppy and kitten pictures in All Things Furry, I could see why Abby Wilson had charged me an insane amount of money to enroll Rachel’s spaz in Simply Skilled obedience class. This vet clinic appeared to be hosting the Cambridge of doggy schools. In today’s dismal economy, it was hard to believe they’d managed to pack the place. Even harder to believe, I’d made a significant financial decision on a whim. But, there was a mystery behind those deep gray eyes that I needed to solve . . .
Clearly, I was not in my right mind.
As Abby ran my credit card, I stole a glance at Henry who smiled at me. I shrugged and said, quietly, “He obviously needs it.”
I signed the slip Abby handed me, then skimmed through the glossy brochure she’d included with my
receipt. In addition to dogs, they train all kinds of hairy creatures. Apparently if you want your hamster to put his paws on his glass wall and wave to you, this was the place to come.
Ruff. Ruff. Chester jumped up against my shins and wagged his Snoopy tail as though thanking me for his first doggy class. That, or he felt stoked for another opportunity to eat something he shouldn’t. We’d see if this class could cure him of that urge.
Abby strode to the center of the room and told us her résumé. Although I could feel Henry’s gaze on me, I kept my eyes glued to the perky woman and tried to play it cool. Because, hello? I’d just met the guy and already I’d blown a designer pair of shoes’ worth of moola because I was wondering if Henry had felt the same—what had Rachel called it?—chemistry and vibe that I did with him.
Abby clapped her hands and threw a fist in the air. “When we leave at the end of the four-day session this week, your beloved pet will understand the basic commands: sit, stay, and heel. Plus, on Thursday, our last day together, we’ll work on a special individual skill of your choice that you want your furry friend to master.”
All I wanted to master was more time with Henry. Although getting this mutt to stop eating my stuff would be an awesome side benefit.
Abby’s blonde ponytail bobbed as she waved her hand over her shoulder. “Let’s come on back and get started.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Henry rise from his chair. I slyly waited for the dozen others in the room to follow her first so I could bring up the rear with him.
His face was somber as we fell into step together. “Give me a call if you need me to save your dog from deadly hair again.”
My belly danced at his adorable flirtation. “That’s very kind of you, but he’s not mine. He belongs to my best friend.” I glanced at Chester who was sniffing Kenzie’s, uh, private region. So rude! “I’m hoping to win an Auntie of the Year award by being the world’s best dog sitter.”
“Tough start with the choking thing,” he said, while managing a straight face.
“You have no evidence of that.” I nudged his elbow, playfully. “I’ve been Rachel’s friend for more than four years. She would never believe your word over mine.”
