Page 37 of Tangled with the Tight End

“How’s that side hustle going?” Loretta asks me.

“Pretty good. Except yesterday.”

“What happened yesterday?” Loretta asks.

“Well, I had to walk dogs for Buckshot.”

Everyone groans in unison. They know Buckshot. And, apparently, they know about his dogs.

“Right?” I say. “All five of his dogs are different sizes. So, I went to walk them before going to work for Declan. And I just couldn’t figure out the leashes. They kept crossing one another’s paths. I was trying to keep the Great Dane from tripping over the dachshund while the beagle kept stopping to sniff basically everything in sight.

“We turned a corner by the park and the dogs saw a group of squirrels. Next thing I knew …” I jump out of my seat, demonstrating the way the dogs tugged my arms forward. “... I was flying like Santa behind his reindeer, only I didn’t have a sled!”

“Oh no!” Wilma shouts.

Frank and Harold break into laughter.

“Oh, dear,” Loretta says. “What did you do?”

“Thankfully, Dustin came driving by,” I say. “When he yelled, ‘Sit!’ Every one of the dogs sat. We untangled the leashes and he loaded the dogs into the back of his pickup and drove me back to Buckshot’s.”

“Five dogs,” Loretta says, shaking her head and making a tsking sound.

“Who needs five dogs?” Frank asks.

“Buckshot, that’s who,” Wilma says. “But I don’t know that you need to walk all five at once. Maybe take them in shifts next time.”

“That’s a good idea,” I tell her. “The worst part of the story was when I arrived at Declan’s.”

“What happened?” Wilma asks. Her brows shoot up as if she knows this is going to be juicy.

“Well, after all the fuss, I was running late, so I stepped on it to get to his house. I let myself in the front door and hurried through the foyer. When I rounded into the family room, he was lying on the couch with his foot elevated. And his parents were sitting there staring at me like I had waltzed into the room buck naked! My hair was a mess. My face was flushed. I felt frayed at the edges. And there they were, pants pressed and not a hair out of place, staring at me. His dad asked if I was the hired help.”

“Well, you know those O’Connells,” Wilma says.

“Don’t we all,” Harold says.

“Patrick’s not like that,” Frank says. “He’s got a heart of gold.”

“Maeve either,” Loretta says. “She’s a sweet one.”

“Well, the parents and Declan sure are,” Wilma says. “Too good for the common man.”

“Don’t you let it get to you, Winona,” Loretta says. “Life has a way of making us all human one way or another.”

I smile at her.

“Yes sir,” Harold adds. “Even the president poops.”

“Harold!” Wilma shouts. “Do you have to go there?”

“Not right now I don’t,” Harold says with an amused chuckle. Then he looks at me. “You know what I mean. We all put our pants on one leg at a time—even those snooty O’Connells. No one’s better than anyone else.”

I smile. Declan doesn’t think he’s better than me—does he? He hasn’t acted like he does. But it’s hard telling. He’s been pretty consumed by the injury. That’s to be expected.

“What’s your next job as Winona for Hire?” Harold asks.

“You’ll never guess,” I tell him.