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Chapter One
Naomi
“I thought the police would have their own dog groomers?” I suggest nervously, not wanting to sound like I know it all on the first day on the job.
Just trying to make conversation really.
I’ve already made so many costly mistakes on my first day that anything that takes the focus off me is a freaking great idea in my mind.
Sasha’s been so kind about everything though, not even minding when I used the wrong everything, cut a client’s poodle way too short, and to top it all off, dropped a hairdryer in an empty bath. But it’s still under warranty and should be covered by insurance.
I’ve never been so clumsy, much. Just first day jitters and it feels like if anything can go wrong already has.
“Best to get it all out of the way now, sweetie,” Sasha bubbles. The strain starting to show on her rosy cherub-like face that’s looking paler by the minute under her shock of dyed red hair.
“And we are the city’s K9 groomers,” she adds with a creased smile.
I can already tell she won’t let me touch the next pooch in her day’s lineup, ‘Moose’.
A huge German shepherd who’s had his head cocked half the morning, observing my antics.
I guess his name is because of his size. I’ve never seen a dog so big in the breed, but I can’t help wondering.
“Maybe you could just tidy up some and then go pick up the lunch order?” Sasha says grimacing another tight smile, sipping her coffee I just made her.
The least I could do.
But I won’t be grooming Moose, obviously.
A regular client like the city police K9 isn’t something she’d pass on to a first day on the job girl.
That’s assuming I even have a second day of work lined up for tomorrow, given my efforts so far.
I choke back a groan and nod my head. Eager to please and resolved to only try harder not to screw anything else up.
The deli with our lunch is only a few doors down, so I manage to convince Sasha as well as myself I can handle that.
It’s a busy Friday lunch and although we ordered in advance, the waitress tells me to wait like everyone else.
I shrug and tell her it’s okay.
“Great to see small business busy,” I hear myself remark to her back as she walks away from me.
The whole place smells amazing, and so loud too that I’m grateful it covers up the sound of the whale song groaning loudly from my belly.
Like a pod of Orcas zoning in on roast beef on rye, reminding me not to skip breakfast if I still have a job tomorrow.
There’s the usual traffic noise from the street, but the piercing wail of emergency sirens makes everybody wince at first, and then finally crane their necks as the EMT’s pull up a few doors down.
I feel my heart freeze in my chest.
It couldn’t be me. I’m not even there. It must be something else.
Before long, there’s a bigger line at the door to see what’s going on and I’m pushed back to the counter, glad at least that our food’s finally ready.
“It’s on Sasha’s account,” the same waitress says, looking me up and down. Totally disinterested in me now.
It could be worse. I could have landed a waitressing job.
Yikes.
Shoving my way past the lunch crowd, I make a low sound as everything feels like it’s going in slow motion.
The ambulance, fire truck, and other first responders are all blocking the street out front of Sasha’s dog parlor.
Gripping the paper sacks, I use my size instead of my height to push through everyone I can, explaining I work there to the burly cop blocking the door.
Then I see her.
Sasha.
At least, I think it’s Sasha. She looks so… swollen.
“I… I’m Naomi, the new dog groomer,” I announce. A paramedic looking up at me before glancing at the coffee cup shattered on the floor by the counter.
“You make that?” he asks, sounding like he’s cross-examining a suspect already, but I feel my head nodding.
“You use nut milk by any chance?” he asks, his own face creasing on one side as I watch Sasha puff up even more.
Guilty!
“Uh huh,” I stammer.
“I always use Almond milk, the chocolate kind that’s already sweetened. I thought…” I try to finish, but his back is to me as well, it looks like Sasha’s maybe not doing so good all of a sudden.
Turns out Sasha has a nut allergy that I didn’t even ask about before loading up her latte with almond chocolatey goodness.
I hear my heart crack as I try to swallow.
My god, what have I done?
“She had an epi-pen and we were right around the block when she called,” the medic assures me, finally looking up at me, registering my look of horror.
“I was just getting our lunch,” I squeak.
