He tosses me a wry glance as he cruises down my street. “Car.” He nods to the dog in the backseat. “We’ve got company for this pitch?”
“Yep,” I say, then tell him the plan as we drive from my home into town.
“Damn, that’s good,” Sawyer says, shaking his head as he parks on the street near Linus’s office. “I’m pissed I didn’t think of that.”
“You mean you’ve never had to tell a client, ‘When all else fails, bring a dog?’”
“No, but that’s basically a slam dunk,” he says, hopping out, then coming around to the sidewalk and quickly opening the door as I gather my bag.
Hmm. The gentleman is strong in him today. I don’t hate that. Sawyer then opens the door for my dog. I don’t hate that either. When it’s open, my boy looks to me. I pat my thigh. “Download,” I tell him.
He jumps out.
“You taught himdownloadto get out of the car?” Sawyer asks, with some delight.
“I found it amusing,” I say.
“Same. Also, he knows…everything,” Sawyer says, impressed, but…do I hear a note of temptation in his voice?
“You can ask him to say hi,” I offer.
Those brown eyes of Sawyer’s widen. His lips curve up in a rare smile. He turns to the dog. “Captain, say hi.”
My German Shepherd mutt lifts a paw and gives a little wave.
“Holy shit,” Sawyer says, mind clearly blown as he drags a hand through his hair.
Like a lightning strike, another idea hits me. I spin around on the sidewalk, excitement radiating off me. “That’s it! That’s what we can do at the meeting!”
“Have him say hi?”
“Yes, and other things. What better way to show them what I can do than to have someone else give Captain a cue? That shows he responds to me—his trainer—but also to another person. If I’m going to land this gig, they need to see I’m flexible. Their dog actors will have handlers, but they’ll still need a trainer to teach the actions from the script. This isn’t exactly the same, but it shows my work is transferable. Let’s start with you.”
“I’m in,” he says without hesitation.
I run him through a couple more tricks just to be safe. Sawyer and Captain practice for a few minutes outside the library. It breaks my heart a little, how cute he is with my dog. How a new side of Sawyer emerges—one with a boyish charm—when he interacts with the pup.
Then we head into the mayor’s office, which looks more like a haberdashery than a place of business thanks to the coat hook overflowing with hats.
The door to his office swings open and a woman I know steps out. It’s Hallie, and her gray hair is pulled back in a severe bun. She’s a no-nonsense dog trainer, so it’s all the more surprising when she flashes me a smug smile as she exits.
My stomach drops. Did she get the gig?
But I’ve no time to stress about that since Linus scurries to the doorway and calls us in.
When we step inside for the five-thirty meeting, I learn I’m not the only one who had the idea to bring a dog.
17
DOG EXTRAS
CHLOE
I know this dog. I didn’t know she’d be here though.
I point, slack-jawed, chills running through me. “Jubilee is on the show?”
The woman holding the famous rescue Pomeranian-Chihuahua-Papillon mix parts her plum-painted lips and strokes the dog’s soft head. I don’t need to pet the seven-pound Jubilee to know she’s soft. The Pom-Chi looks soft, like she has angel fur.
