Page 74 of The One Who Never Left: Colter

At this point, resistance was pointless. Jo had a hundred percent success rate and zero patience for questions. Sutton had officially given up trying to order for herself.

Sutton let her eyes wander. It was an eclectic crowd that morning. Ranch hands, a few high school teachers, a group of cowboys arguing over Himalayan beans and Kona Coast roast, and the Bridlewood Bocce Team holding court near the display case.

She sighed, swirling the bitter and aromatic liquid, thinking that in a town like this, half the battle wasn’t the work, the animals, or even the small-town gossip. It was surviving the quiet moments in public spaces.

Espresso Yourself offered a little anonymity in the open chaos, a small freedom she wasn’t ready to give up. And of course, somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that freedom could vanish the second Colter walked in.

Sutton leaned over the bar top, pencil tapping against her notebook as Vivi rattled off ideas faster than Sutton could write down.

“Okay,” Sutton began. “In years past, Dr. Porter said they had a raffle, a silent auction and a pie walk. I’ve got three shops willing to donate something for the raffle. Then of course there’s adoption day. I need open pens for the bigger animals and playpens for the kittens and other small animals.”

“Fuck what Dr. Porter wants,” Jo said, leaning back in her chair and fixing Sutton with a steady look. “What do you want?”

Sutton blinked, caught off guard. “I don’t know. I mean, I want it to be successful. I want people to adopt. I want to raise double last year’s money.”

Vivi put her elbows on the bar—her eyes pure challenge. “Yeah, but that’s not what you want. That’s what everyone else wants you to want. You’re letting everyone else design your fundraiser, Sutton. Don’t do that.”

Sutton hesitated, pencil stopping mid-word. “I guess I haven’t really thought about it like that.”

Jo tilted her head, a sly grin tugging at her lips. “Then think—really think. If you could run it your way, the way you want, what would it look like?”

Sutton chewed her lower lip. “I have a friend from school who makes clothes for animals. Her company is called Critter Couture and I think she’d sell us product in bulk and then we sell at retail.” Her voice gained confidence as she warmed to the idea. “How many pet owners do you think live in Bridlewood?”

“At least a few hundred,” Vivi said.

Just like that, the doom cloud hanging over Sutton’s head thinned. A few hundred animals, a town full of pet lovers, and a circle of women who actually believed in her. Suddenly, Paws for the Cause didn’t feel so overwhelming. It felt possible.

“That’s it!” Sutton snapped her fingers. “What if we turn Main Street into a catwalk event where people show off their pets.”

“People are going to pay you just to walk their own dogs?” Jo asked.

“They do it every year in San Francisco, I don’t see why it can’t work here but on a smaller scale. I mean, give folks a good cause and the right hook and they will happily open their wallets. And we already have the cutest hook in the world. Puppies and kittens sell themselves.”

“I love this,” Vivi said. “Charge an entry fee. Let owners gather sponsors if they want. I bet we raise enough to bankroll spay-and-neuters for a year.”

“If we start the walk at Town Hall and go up Main Street, we could end it in front of the Bridlewood Community Center,” Sutton said. “Don’t they have space we can rent out for the adoption part of the fair?”

“If you’re a non-profit you get it for free. You just have to fill out some forms,” Jo said. “I can also set up a booth outside my store. Coffee, human snacks, pet-friendly treats, the works. And everything goes to the cause.”

Sutton shook her head, overwhelmed. “Jo, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking, I’m volunteering.” Jo’s look dared Sutton to argue.

“I want you to at least cover your costs,” Sutton insisted.

“Fine,” Jo said. “Proceeds minus expenses. Happy?”

“That is perfect,” Vivi said. “Every animal lover in this town will show up.”

“Add a cash prize and you’ll double the turnout,” Jo said. “People will crawl over broken asphalt for money and puppies.”

"That's not a euphemism, right?" Vivi asked. "You mean literal money and literal puppies?"

"In Bridlewood? Could go either way."

Sutton nearly vibrated with relief. The rescues would be right there, looking adorable, charming the pants off future families. She was literally staging an event that gave them the best shot they’d ever had at finding their forever home.

“I also want to switch up the adoption part of the fair. Instead of the usual setup where dogs are in pens waiting for people to come pick them out⁠—”