“It has plugs on the inside?” Ethan sounds just as bewildered as I am.
I chuckle. “Apparently all the electrical outlets in there are something only a woman would notice on her first visit, not the idiots who grew up here.”
“That’s wild,” Ethan says. “Here, take this.” He unplugs his phone charger from the wall.
“Thanks, bro.”
I jog back to the barn, feeling as if I’ve forgotten something. Not something small like the cord in my hand, but something big. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, like I left my house with front doors unlocked and the stove on. The answer slams into me a few seconds later.
“Oh no. No, no, no,” I mutter, picking up the pace. Rex!
Charlotte stands absolutely still, frozen in fear. In her hand, which is extended probably the exact same way it was when I absentmindedly dropped the leash in it, is Rex’s leash handle.
“Charlotte, I’m so sorry.” I walk calmly toward her. “I cannot believe I spaced out like that—I’m really sorry. I’m used to being around dog handlers all day.” I don’t tell her that just being in her presence makes my brain stop working as well as it should.
“It’s…okay,” she squeaks out, still unmoving. My eyes trail down to Rex, who stands happily, tongue still panting from his session of playing catch. His amber eyes focus on me, awaiting another command.
“Sitz,” I tell him. He sits. Then he does something completely unexpected.
He leans his body against Charlotte’s leg.
Her back somehow gets even straighter. Her body freezes so completely she’s like a wax figure of herself. I doubt she’s even breathing. I crack a smile. “He trusts you.”
“I…don’t…trust…him…” she breathes. “Please take this leash from me.”
A single tear falls down her cheek. I take the leash and call Rex away. Her body relaxes and another tear falls, which she quickly swipes away before trying to regain that professional composure she always seems to pull on over her real emotions.
“I’m really, really sorry. Let me go put him up.”
She nods quickly, glancing down at her leg, where this large dog had just leaned against moments ago. Disappointmentfloods into me. What if more people are afraid of dogs than I thought? What if this nonprofit won’t be successful because most people won’t want to get on board with saving retired, potentially aggressive working dogs? Maybe I just have to try harder to convince her that Rex is worth it. And anyone else who doesn’t believe.
I put Rex in his kennel, giving him a treat for being such a good boy, then I head back to the barn. My stomach twists into knots. How could I have been so stupid to hand a leash to a woman who doesn’t like dogs? Charlotte is sitting at her makeshift desk when I return, tapping away on her laptop.
“Let’s answer your question,” I say, holding up Ethan’s phone charger. I plug one end into my phone and then plug the other into one of the outlets in the barn. My phone screen turns on. “Let there be light!” I say. “It works!” I test out the other outlets—seven in all—and they all work just fine.
“This will be really helpful,” she says. “Thank you for checking.”
Charlotte is colder to me the rest of the day. I don’t even think she means to be so icy to me. That’s what makes this all worse. The woman is genuinely terrified of dogs and she’s been assigned to help dogs as her job. While she works, I run out and grab us lunch.
“What’s that?” she says, closing her laptop when I walk in the barn with two bags from Taco Crave. Her expression softens. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to,” I say, setting one back down in front of her. “Fried avocado, right?”
Her eyes widen, then narrow in suspicion. “How did you know that?”
“Okay, I swear I’m not a stalker,” I say, sitting across from her. “I went down to Taco Crave and was chatting with Raul?—”
“He’s so nice,” she interjects.
“Exactly,” I say. “I told him about the gala and said I hired a party planner to help, and he actually knows you. He said you come by a couple times a week to get his fried avocado tacos.”
She grins, cheeks blushing a bit. “It’s a little embarrassing that my taco guy knows me by name.”
“Nah,” I say, unwrapping my taco. “Everyone loves Raul. And Raul remembers everyone in town’s order.”
“I appreciate this,” she says, shoving aside some paperwork. “I’m starving.”
“I appreciate all your help. And again, I’m really sorry for leaving you with Rex. I just zoned out. I never would have done that if I was thinking properly.”
