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“Did you tell her she can’t come in here?”
Toby nodded. “She said it’s her constitutional right to be able to pet the puppies.”
Ashley growled, a half-decent impression of one of the animals in her charge. The day was going from bad to worse.
First, they’d had a roof leak after heavy rain, and they were making do with a bucket in the middle of the floor of the cattery.
Next, Donna, one of her volunteers, had been involved in a fender bender—no injuries, thank God—but it was traumatic enough for her to need to take a mental health day.
But what really got her goat was the hockey player no-show.
Dex O’Malley was supposed to be here at noon.
It was now 4 p.m. and not a word from anyone at the Rebels org.
Ashley had called Cora to verify she’d had the time and date correct (she had). She called the Rebels contact, Sophie, and left a message (no response). And while this shouldn’t have bothered her because she wasn’t relying on this Dex character to make any significant input, it niggled all the same because this was just typical of entitled men-children who dropped a load on the carpet and expected everyone to clean up after them. Take her ex, for example. He had no problem impregnating her—in fact, he’d had a great time dropping his sperm off—but when it came to the real work of raising a kid, he bailed when the going got tough.
She had enough of that with the puppies!
Now another problem was manifesting in the form of Bronte Finn, today’s visitor. Twice now, she had let three of the dogs out of their cages because she thought they looked “so sad.” Maybe they did, but they were enclosed for a reason.
Unfortunately, Bronte’s father, Councilman Finn, was a big wig in local politics, owner of several businesses and a major donor to the shelter. After the last disastrous visit, he’d come in to thank them all in person for not making a fuss and assured them that he wouldn’t be halting his donation. Not too hard to read between the lines there. Ashley was so tired of these big shots who viewed the shelter as their personal playground.
Sighing, she stood and practiced adjusting her expression as she headed outside.
“Bronte! So good to see you!”
Bronte smiled abstractly. “Oh, thank God you’re here. This guy won’t let me in to see the puppies.”
“Well, we have reasons, y’know. Last time you opened the cages?—”
“Because they need the fresh air.”
“We take them out on a regular basis, but we can’t give anyone who doesn’t work here unregulated access.”
Bronte screwed up her mouth. “I applied to be a volunteer, but I didn’t hear back.”
“We’re actually at capacity with volunteers right now.” Ashley stepped in closer and lowered her voice. “Hey, I know you love the animals but there are liability issues if you’re here. We let you in before and you let them out. Some of them are damaged and we can’t risk them biting people. You understand, don’t you?”
“Aw, let her pet the puppies.”
A new voice had entered the conversation. A new, deeper, rumbly voice.
Ashley turned to face the source of that voice and met the eyes of … okay, not the eyes because he was wearing sunglasses. More like she met The Hair. Gelled and teased to within an inch of its life.
She’d seen him online. Everyone had. Dex O’Malley wasn’t shy about sharing himself and his body with the world.
Neither was he shy about sharing his opinions, apparently.
She turned back to Bronte. “Hey, thanks for coming in.” She had a feeling she was going to regret this, but Ashley had always been a sucker for a begging face. “You can say hi to the animals as long as Toby is there. For five minutes. But no opening of the cages, okay?”
Bronte’s eyes brightened. “Okay!”
Ashley turned to Toby. “Five minutes, okay?”
Toby looked up from his phone. “Got it! Come on, B! Let’s go pet some puppies.”
Which left Ashley alone with Dex O’Malley. She waited for him to speak.
