“Hey,” I say to Noah, the fair-skinned, red-headed guy who’s run this shop since forever. Not only does he have the voice of a sexy angel—he often croons the show-stopping finale in the annual Darling Springs Community Cabaret Theater Fundraiser—he’s also something of a romance soothsayer intown, known for his predictions. “Do you ever rent out any space? Like, what about the section in the back where you make the homemade soaps?”
He’s quiet for a moment, giving it some thought. “Love the idea, but I worry the dogs might eat the soap ingredients. They don’t always have the most discerning taste.”
And…he’s right there too. Dogs and anything edible is a bad combo, becauseeverythingis edible to a dog. “And if any of the dogs shed, you might get hair in your soaps.”
“True too. But why don’t you give the bookstore a shot? Everyone loves dogs and books.”
They do. I head for the door, stopping briefly with my hand on the knob, not wanting to miss my chance for…advice? No, it’s more like…curiosity. Yes, that’s it. “Hey, Noah—if a woman says it’s a one-time thing, does the guy believe her? Or does he, I don’t know…try to find her?”
My voice pitches up at the end, full of foolish hope.
Noah doesn’t answer right away—just studies me with that quiet look that’s made him the town’s unofficial romance guru. “The smart ones listen. The good ones ask if she meant it.” A pause. “The guys worth keeping? They tend to show up.”
His words sit heavier than I want them to. I nod, say nothing about his advice, then paste on a smile. “Can’t wait to hear what number’s up your sleeve for the summer fundraiser.”
“You and me both,” he jokes.
I push open the door before I start thinking too much.
I pop into A Likely Story next, pausing to eye the built-inreading nook. I weave between shelves, hoping a cozy little corner for dog training will magically appear. It doesn’t.
Eventually, I make my way to the community theater, where I find my mom in the second row.
“Let’s take it from the top,” she calls out as I slip in next to her. “A one, two, three, four!”
The local a cappella group—made up of off-duty firefighters from around the county—hums Foreigner’s “Hot Blooded” in full uniform. “The only thing that could make this better is if they stripped,” I whisper when the song ends.
Mom drops her jaw theatrically. “You have a naughty mind. I don’t know where that came from.”
“Gee, I wonder.”
She removes her rhinestone-encrusted glasses and polishes them on her bright-red blouse. “Take five,” she calls out, and as the men and women first responders shuffle offstage, she turns to me. “What’s wrong, darling? You look sad.”
“I need a space for my dog training if I’m going to make a real go of it,” I say. “Do you have anything here?” I ask, glancing around the auditorium with the rows and rows of seats.
“For dog training? Well, unless we’re doingLegally Blondeagain and need a stage for Bruiser, I don’t know if it’s the best fit.”
She’s right. A theater isn’t ideal. And this town is getting more expensive by the minute. I don’t even know for sure if these new clients are coming through.
“But I’ll think on it. And in the meantime, I can ask Zuri whatever became of the dog daycare?”
“Ooh, good idea,” I say, since Mom’s good friends with the former manager.
That night, as I’m working on my social media by posting some training videos of Captain and me, my phone buzzes. There’s a text from my brother, Jay. He’s a sports reporter in San Francisco, covering the local hockey teams and their winning ways.
Jay:Warning—Mom is talking cabaret fundraiser again. I bet she’s going to try to get us to perform a piano and guitar solo.
Chloe:Better than when she tried to have us sing “As Long As You’re Mine.”
I can feel his shudder up the highway before his reply even lands.
Jay:Don’t remind me.
I’m tapping out a response about that horror of our childhood, but also the way we got out of that particular performance with a surprise case of double laryngitis, when another text lands.
Veronica:Just wanted to introduce you to my friends.
Thirty minutes later, I have two new actress clients and their rescue Mastiffs. This unexpected glow-up is a very good problem to have.
