Floofums poked his head in, looking to see if there were any legs free for humping. Rix’s ears pricked forward and he gave the tiny interloper his best puppy-bow. Instead of accepting the invitation to play, Floofums launched into a hysterical barrage of shrill barking, dancing back and forth, unwilling to charge for real but desperate to drive the newcomer from his territory. Rix straightened, watching quizzically, and then decided this was a great game. He bounded toward the Pomeranian with a howl like a damned soul. On the other side of the glass, the rest of the office had stopped, staring. Luke tried ineffectually to shush them both.
Floofums latched on to Rix’s leg.
There may have been an illusion of fur, but Rix’s scales were still up to the task. Floofums clamped down and Rix stared at him without flinching, confused. He reached down and grabbed Floofums by the scruff of his neck. In shock, the little dog let go. Rix trotted out, carrying Floofums like a puppy. Floofums yapped his resolution to murder Rix and maybe the rest of the office for this outrage, even as Rix deposited the squirming bundle at Hayley’s feet. He loped back to Morgan.
“Floofums? Are you OK?” Hayley scooped him up. She looked up, incensed.
“He started it,” Kelly pointed out dryly.
Hayley’s outrage collapsed and she buried her embarrassment fussing over the squirming dog. “What did you get in your fur?”
Morgan kicked the doorstop out and let the door swing shut. “Good dog.”
Luke nodded fervently, running his hands over Rix’s leg to check for injuries.
“You really love that dog, don’t you,” she said.
He froze again. “No, don’t be ridiculous.”
“Luke,” she said gently. “It’s safe to care about the dog here.”
He didn’t meet her eyes. But his hand lingered on Rix’s head.
A few minutes later, from outside in the bullpen, there came a crash. Rix yelped and leapt to his feet.
“What was that?” Luke’s head whipped around.
“Oh whoa, it’s a Deal Gong,” Morgan said. “I haven’t heard one of those in a while.”
They poked their heads out. Ronaldo was standing up, brandishing a small gong the size of his palm in one hand, tiny mallet in the other. “Who’s got two thumbs and signed a new client? This guy!”
“A what-now?” Luke whispered.
“Brad got the sales team little gongs for their desks. You’re supposed to ring it if you close a deal,” Morgan told him. “Ronaldo’s the only one who uses his.”
“Nice,” Kelly said approvingly. “Who did you close?”
“Sister Dolorosa of the Sacred Convent of the Immaculate Conception is reviewing the paperwork now!” Ronaldo crowed.
“Hey, that was my lead,” Luke said, offended.
Kelly raised her eyebrows. “Did you enter it in Salesforce?”
“… No.”
“Did you change the status and hand it over Ronaldo?”
“… No.”
“Did you convince the client to take a meeting or help Ronaldo close this deal in any way?” Kelly crossed her arms.
“… No.”
“Then it’s not your lead,” she snapped. “If Ronaldo hadn’t overheard you and followed up on his own initiative, we wouldn’t have a deal at all. Follow procedures. No paperwork, no commission.”
Luke sulked.
The room went back to what they were doing. Luke stared moodily out the window. Ronaldo smirked at both of them through the glass door.
