The little girl studies me for one quiet second. “Do you know all their names?”
That makes me grin. “Every last one.”
“All of them?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her eyes get wider. “Even the cats?”
“Especially the cats. They get offended if I don’t.”
That earns me a tiny laugh. Not loud, more like she forgot to stop it in time.
Beside me, Jules mutters under his breath, “Well, that was fast.”
I ignore him.
The man looks at me fully then. Not a polite glance or a passing acknowledgment. A real look. It’s not rude exactly, but it’s direct enough to make me very aware of the damp patch still at my knee from my earlier showdown with the mop bucket.
“This is my daughter, Ivy,” he says.
The little girl tilts her chin up. “I’m six.”
“Six is a very good age,” I tell her.
She nods as if I’ve confirmed a matter of public record. “I want a dog.”
The man beside her exhales through his nose. “That’s still under discussion.”
Ivy twists toward him with all the dignity a child in star sneakers can manage. “Papa.”
He gives her a look that must mean a great deal in their house, because she goes quiet at once, though not unhappy. Used to being heard, I think. Used to rules, too.
I glance between them. “Well, y’all came to the right place for discussion.”
That almost earns me a smile from the little girl’s father. Almost. I see the tiniest change at the corner of his mouth before it’s gone.
“I’m Alexei,” he says.
Just Alexei. No last name, offered hand, or social fuss. It should annoy me, but it doesn’t annoy me nearly as much as the fact that his name sounds unfairly good in that deep, accented voice.
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
My palm still tingles anyway, like it expected a handshake and feels silly for it.
Jules steps around the desk with a clipboard tucked to his side. “Would y’all like me to give you the formal shelter pitch, or would you rather Maggie charm you by accident while pretending she has no idea she’s doin’ it?”
“You keep that up, and I’m puttin’ you on litter box duty,” I tell him, narrowing my eyes.
“To be clear,” he says to Ivy, “I support women in leadership.”
Ivy’s smile peeks out again.
Alexei looks from Jules to me, not giving much away, just watching like he’s putting pieces together in his head. I don’t go digging for meaning in it. That seems like a good way to get myself in trouble.
“Well,” I say, tucking a loose hair behind my ear, “why don’t I show y’all around?”
I lead them first to the puppy room because I’m not cruel. Ivy kneels on the washable rug inside while two little mixed-breed fluff balls tumble into her lap like they’ve been waiting all morning for her. She laughs, open and bright, and the sound fills the room.
