“It’s fine,” she says, taking a bite of her taco. “I know it was just a mistake. I cannot stand manipulative men,” she says, lip twitching in disgust, “but you weren’t doing that. You’re not one of those pricks who tries to force women to do things they don’t want to do.”
She takes another bite and does a little shoulder boppy dance because it’s so delicious. “Don’t take this the wrong way because I do not suddenly like dogs or anything, but… it wasn’t too bad. I mean, it was and I thought I might die of fear, but it was okay. Rex was good. He just stood there looking for you after you ran off.”
I smile.
“It was still terrifying!” she says, but she’s smiling now, too. “Never do it again! But I survived, and I feel a little braver now.”
She rubs the inside of her wrist, where a jagged white scar has marred her soft skin. I want to know what happened but it doesn’t seem like the right time to ask.
“Rex told me to tell you something,” I say, reaching for another taco.
“Oh yeah?” She rolls her eyes. “Does he speak English or German like his dog commands?”
I grin. “He mentally told me, with his mind."
“Ohh, okay,” she says sarcastically. “What did the giant scary dog telepathically tell you?”
I raise my voice like I’m some kind of cartoon dog and say, “He said, ‘tell Miss Charlotte thank you for helping raise money for dogs like me.’”
She quirks an eyebrow. “I don’t think Rex sounds like that.”
“What would he sound like?”
She clears her throat, and talks with a deep voice with a poorly done German accent. “I’m Rex, a big scary dog.”
I burst out laughing. “Yeah, that’s probably more like it.”
“Tell him I’m happy to help raise money for dogs like him.”
“I will,” I say. She’s in a much better mood now, and some of the guilt I feel has receded. It’s probably not from my apology, but from the tacos. Is there anything tacos can’t fix?
I buy us lunch for the next two days. Charlotte stops asking if she can work at the barn and just starts showing up. I like that more than I care to admit. This is for the nonprofit, though, not making new friends with me. This is for the fundraiser. The gala. She’s a professional doing the job and sometimes the job gets done better when you’re onsite and not back in your office.
It’s not like she’s here to see me. That doesn’t stop me from taking an extra shower after dog training clients, and again after handling chores around the property, making sure I’m dressed a little nicer than usual.
Today, she arrived with little plastic soccer cones that she uses to mark areas around the barn. I’m helping Ethan in the office for a bit, so I can only watch her work through the window. Ethan is close to finalizing a business contract with achain of dog groomers. Our plan is to have self-serve dog wash stations on our property so the public can come wash their dogs and we can use them to wash the dogs under our care. By partnering with another company, they’ll handle the overhead and maintenance, and we provide the location for a split of the profits. Ethan has done an amazing job of taking care of all of this, and Max, our main groomer, is on board.
Our website has finally been updated to include all the information we want on there, and my brothers got their bios all ready. My youngest brothers, Max and Owen are twins in their senior year of university. Except for Owen, who went on to vet school at A&M after graduating with his bachelor’s degree. Everyone has found their place here at Alden K-9.
Ethan is our business manager, and I’m the dog trainer and face of the organization. Leo is an artist by trade and is helping us with all graphic design and creative stuff while also working on his commissioned art on the side, and the twins have been away at college most of the time but will work here full time once they graduate. Max just finished a degree in business with a minor in nonprofit work, which should be very helpful. My parents are thrilled. When they left us this property, they assumed we’d sell it and split the money five ways. Instead, we’re turning it into something that benefits the entire community.
“Yo,” Owen says. I jump. He materialized out of nowhere. It’s Friday, and he usually makes the drive home from college on Fridays but I didn’t see his car show up. “You got that look on your face.”
“What look?” I say, leaving the window and going back to my laptop.
He claps a hand on my shoulder and peers out the window to where Charlotte is moving around soccer cones in the grassy area outside the barn doors. “The look,” he says again. “You can’t keep your eyes off that party planning hottie out there.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
Max gasps, also appearing out of nowhere. “Holy shit, is Caleb the Womanizer falling for someone?” He lets out a low whistle. “Quick, someone check if hell has frozen over!”
From the corner of the room, Ethan snorts.
“I don’t have time for any of this,” I mutter. My phone rings, and the name of our biggest donor appears on the screen. “Now I really don’t have time for this," I say, heading down the hallway to my office. I answer WLB Construction.
“Hello, how are you doing today?”
William Bryan himself, not his secretary, is on the line. “Caleb, we need to change the date of the gala. That Friday’s not going to work.”
