“Yes,” she says, taking another sharp breath. Her skin has flushed a grayish pale color and her whole body shakes. I’ve never seen someone so terrified of dogs. Not even when K9 Ranger and I chased and apprehended criminals.
“Please give me a moment and I’ll put Rex back in his kennel.”
She nods, still pressed against her car, one hand on the handle as I slip into the nearby building and let Rex into his air-conditioned indoor kennel, promising him I’ll be back soon to play fetch. Rex loves fetch more than anything, and as a high energy working dog, he needs to be played with several times a day to burn off his energy.
“Hi, I’m Caleb,” I say once I’ve returned. I reach out to shake her hand. “I’m sorry about that.”
She hesitates before slowly reaching out to take my hand, her grip surprisingly firm despite the obvious terror still lingering in her eyes. "Charlotte Brooks," she says, her voice steady but tight. “From Perfectly Planned. And I really hope there won’t be any more surprises like… that."
“No more surprises," I promise, flashing her my most charming smile. She’s even more beautiful as the fear leaves her face. “Rex is safely in his kennel, and my dog is in the house. I’ll keep them out of sight while you’re here. You don’t need to worry. You’re way too pretty to be put in harm’s way.”
Her shoulders stiffen, though she’s still glancing warily toward the kennels, like Rex might bust out at any moment, ready for round two of scaring the crap out of her. Usually my compliments put any woman at ease. Felony Melanie was twice my age, but a few well-placed compliments got me twenty percent off. I step back, gesturing toward the main building. “Why don’t we head inside? I’ll show you around, and we can talk about the plans for the event.”
Charlotte nods and follows me, keeping a careful distance. As we walk into the newest building which functions as our offices, I catch sight of my brother Ethan leaning over a clipboard by the reception desk, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Ethan, this is Charlotte, our new event planner,” I say, stopping beside him.
Ethan glances up, taking her in with a quick once-over. He nods politely, leaning over the counter to shake her hand, though his expression remains serious. When I’d begged my oldest brother to take on the management position here, I should have known he’d do it one hundred percent seriously. “Welcome. Glad you’re here. This event’s important to us, so let me know if you need anything."
"I will," she says, her voice more confident now that we’re away from the dogs.
Ethan looks at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And Caleb, maybe next time make sure all dogs are leashed before the guests arrive."
"I know," I mutter, scratching the back of my neck. "It was a mistake. Won’t happen again."
Ethan arches a brow, clearly unimpressed, but he doesn’t say anything else before returning to his clipboard. Charlotte watches the exchange with a flicker of curiosity, but she doesn’t comment.
"Let’s keep moving," I say, leading her down the hall. I open the door to my office with a flourish. “This is where the magic happens.”
Charlotte peers into the small, sparsely decorated room, lips pressed together, and eyes avoiding my charming smile. Okay…I’ll just try a little harder. It’s not hard making women swoon. She just might be a little trickier than usual.
“Have a seat.” I sit at my desk, which is kind of a mess. I crumple an empty soda can in my fist and toss it across the room. It lands in the trashcan perfectly. Most women flash me a little impressed smirk when I do that. This one does not.
“The file I received on this event is very thin, so we’ll need to take it from the top,” Charlotte says, sitting so straight you’d think she’s in yoga class. “What exactly is this place? A nonprofit and a dog boarding facility or something?”
“It’s a work in progress,” I admit. “My brothers and I were given the property from our parents and I convinced them to turn it into a business. We do dog training, dog grooming, boarding, and our newer nonprofit, the Alden K9 Foundation. Our mission is to take in retired working dogs and find them perfect homes in retirement. A lot of police and military dogs are used until they can’t work anymore and then they have nowhereto go, and they don’t always have the best temperament to be adopted due to the nature of being a working dog.”
“So let’s let them run loose on the grounds,” she says sarcastically. “That makes sense.”
“Rex is my case study,” I say, flashing her my best smile. It bounces off her blank expression, having charmed her exactly zero percent. Is there something wrong with my face today? Usually it gets a lot more attention from beautiful women. I clear my throat. “He’s, uh, very energetic. Way too young to be retired, but he had some aggression issues mostly from being kept in a crate or on a leash. His original handler was transferred to another division and had small kids in the house so he couldn’t keep him. He shouldn’t be old enough to be retired, but due to aggression they wanted to euthanize him. I’m hoping to rehabilitate him, find him a good home, and then brag about it at the gala so I can get more donors.”
“Right…” She marks something in her file and then flips the page. “Felony Melanie wrote “gala donors,” and then a question mark. Am I right in thinking we still have to find donors?”
I shake my head. “No, actually we’ve got a Platinum Level donor lined up. WLB Construction pledged twenty five thousand dollars. That’s all I’ve got though, so we need more.”
She coughs. “Great. Cool. That’s uh, wonderful.” She shifts on her feet—is she not impressed with my big donor orveryimpressed? I can’t tell. “That means we have gold, silver, and bronze level sponsorships available to sell. Do you have dollar amounts in mind?”
“Um…” I shrug. “Whatever is standard, I suppose.”
"It’s fine," she says quickly, scribbling something in her notebook. "We’ll make it work. What’s the theme of the event?"
I pause, scratching my chin. "Uh… dogs?"
Her pen freezes mid-air, and she looks up at me with a deadpan expression. “That’s not a theme, Caleb.”
I like it when she uses my name. I shrug. "It’s a K9 charity event. What else would the theme be?"
She sighs, muttering something under her breath about amateurs. Before I can defend myself, the door swings open, and Leo strides in, holding a paintbrush and wearing his usual mischievous grin. “Hey, Caleb, I need your input on the mural for the east wall—” He stops when he notices Charlotte and gives her a once-over, his green eyes sparkling. “Oh, hello. Who’s this?”
Charlotte glances between us, looking mildly annoyed. “Charlotte Brooks. The event planner.”
