“Thanks. Leo made it.” He lifts the wheelbarrow handles and walks forward. I follow, feeling like I shouldn’t bother him. Maybe it’s in my imagination? “Are you working in the barn today?” he asks. “How much work do you have left to do?”
Okay, that is definitely a polite way to shoo me away.
“Erm, yeah. My boss wants me to make some social media content. Do you think your brothers would consent to being filmed for our page? I could give you all the videos too so you can use them on your pages as well.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, I don’t care. Maybe ask them first, but they’re probably fine with it.”
“Cool,” I say. We reach a shed just off the side of the barn. He swings open the door and starts putting away the tools. What happened?
Last night he smiled at me like… I don’t know… like he had feelings for me. Did I do something wrong?
I blink. What was I thinking? Of course he doesn’t have feelings for me. This is Caleb Alden. Notorious womanizer. Hopeless flirt. It doesn’t matter why he’s acting so cold to me. He hasn’t fired me, so I’ve still got the job.
And at the end of the day, that’s all this is… a job.
chapter twelve
Caleb
That sucked.
The physical act of being short but polite to Charlotte was easy enough. The mental part felt like going to war with myself. But I know what I saw on her phone at the donor dinner and I’ve felt like such a fool. Like a slimeball, really. Flirting has always been my favorite pastime. Flirting is just a little harmless fun. But all this time I’ve flirted with her, letting my feelings take hold inside my heart in ways they never have with other women. I told myself it was silly, and just for fun, but I knew it wasn’t.
And this whole time she was dating someone else. From day one she’s never been available or interested in dating me. To make matters significantly worse, Charlotte basically told me herself. She told me to stop flirting. I just didn’t listen. It was all supposed to be fun and games.
I’m such an idiot. A lifetime spent not settling down so I won’t get hurt, and here I am, getting hurt anyway. It’s like I don’t even know myself anymore.
What’s even worse is Rex is regressing. He’d been doing so well here at the farm, behaving and showing less aggressioneach day. He even won over Charlotte, to some degree, who smiles when she sees him now. She even talks to him, calling him “cutie patootie” and other girly names that don’t fit the big, strong former police dog. I had such high hopes for this dog who was almost euthanized twice, and now I’m second guessing everything.
The little butthead ripped a hole in the chain link fence last night. I pulled up my cameras and saw that he literally bit the fence and flung his head back and forth until it broke. I’m surprised he still has all of his teeth. Once he got inside Rain’s kennel run, he just played with her and they chased each other around, tails wagging. Thank God. That could have gone significantly worse. Even though both dogs are okay, this isn’t the kind of behavior that has people just lining up to adopt him. Any hint that he might be destructive in his new home sends every potential adopter running for the hills.
I called his former handler this morning and he told me Rex never acted out like that before, and besides a one-time bed shredding when he was bored at home, he’s never destroyed anything like that. That tells me this isn’t in Rex’s nature, and that’s even worse. He’s unhappy. He’s snapped at me twice when I feed him, and the only thing that seems to make him happy is chasing the ball. It’s more than a full time job running this place, and I can’t play ball with him twelve hours a day. He needs structure and someone who can spend more time with him.
He needs to get adoptable. I’m confident I can get him back on the right track, but not so sure it’ll happen in time for the gala. Without Charlotte’s incredible, superhuman help, this event would be a total shitshow. Kind of like how my life is right now.
After feeding the dogs lunch, and a two hour training session with a new client and her husky puppy, I’ve got an hour of unscheduled time. I can’t exactly call it free time since there’salways a million things to do, but no one is needing me right at this moment. Charlotte’s car is gone. I try not to let it bother me.
In the big house, I run my hand across Ranger’s head. He sits patiently, always the best dog ever, and gives me his puppy eyes hoping I’ll let him have a piece of my cold, leftover pizza.
“It’s not healthy for you,” I tell him over a mouthful. He knows he’s not getting any. Still, he begs. Kind of seems familiar, but I shove those thoughts away. I feed Ranger fresh food which gets shipped to me once every two weeks. It’s worlds better than the kibble crap that’s sold in stores worldwide. That garbage will shorten a dog’s lifespan by years, and I want my boy Ranger with me as long as possible.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much as usual,” I tell him. When I quit the police department, Ranger retired with me. He still had a couple good working years left in him, but he’s my dog and the department was understanding enough to let me keep him. I would have never left if that weren’t the case. Rangie-boy is my partner. My doggie soul mate. This job has been so busy, I’ve barely had any time with him lately.
“You’re a good boy,” I tell him, scratching his neck. “Don’t be too sad—this pizza isn’t that great.”
One of my buddies from LPD texts me.
SGT. MIKE: yo man, do you still have that GSD for adoption?
I toss the rest of the cold pizza in the trash, much to Ranger’s annoyance, and walk to the couch. Mike is a good dude and he’s had German Shepherds in the past, so he knows how much work they can be. I text him back yes, and he says he’ll come over soon to meet Rex. Ranger hops up next to me and quickly falls asleep. I have less than twenty minutes left until my next training clientarrives, but I let Ranger sleep for now. It feels good to slow down, if only for a few minutes.
Not everything sucks right now. The gala is still going to be great, we have a lot of donors, and Rex might have a new home soon. Hopefully he can behave until then.
chapter thirteen
Charlotte
My talents are not found in the social media world. My own social media page gets updated once a year, if that. Scrolling is too depressing and annoying for me. All my friends are either getting married, buying houses, or happily living their perfect little lives. I’m not really in the mood to feel bad for myself, and then watch how bad things are elsewhere in the world, so I don’t get on here much—unless I’m forced to. With a coffee that’s getting colder by the minute, I sit at my desk, fumbling through videos and pictures, trying to compile a few promotional posts for Perfectly Planned’s social media pages. It’s not fun, and I hate doing work stuff on my personal phone. I’d much rather be doing my real job of planning events, but the boss wants social media posts and that’s what she’ll get.
