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Seven
“Guess what!” I yelled, as I walked in the door the following Thursday. I’d just gotten an extremely exciting phone call and I was so excited I was shaking.
“What?” Emma asked, looking up from wiping the floor. Probably another one of Vegas’s accidents. He had his first day of doggie daycare next week, and we’d also signed him up for obedience classes at the same doggie daycare.
“I got the job!” Emma dropped the roll of paper towels and bottle of cleaner and stood up.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, I did!” She squealed and ran over to me, sweeping me up in a lung-crushing hug. Vegas jumped up and down at our feet, begging to know what his moms were carrying on about.
“We have to celebrate. I’d say we should go out, but he’s been here alone all day. Order in? Someplace fancy, definitely. Want to get the fancy pasta?” There was a place near our apartment that sold pasta with truffles on it that was incredible, but was also over fifty bucks a serving. I had had it once before, since only a very special occasion called for pasta that was that expensive.
“Yes, I need truffles. Do you need truffles, Vegas?” I picked him up and he went bananas licking my face.
“Thank you for washing my face, buddy. I needed that. Oh, yes, you’re a good boy.”
I set him down and Emma ordered the expensive pasta and I went to the fridge to grab a bottle of champagne. We’d replenished our stock recently.
“I’m so happy for you,” Emma said, putting her hands on my shoulders from behind and leaning into me. I leaned slightly back against her as I popped the cork from the bottle.
“I’m so relieved. I’m going to be making more money, so that’s good, and I really like my new boss. I mean, I like her now. I might not like her in a few weeks, but I’ll burn that bridge when I get there.”
“No bridge burning,” she said, squeezing my shoulders and then moving away as I poured the bubbling champagne into two glasses. I missed the contact with her body, but I shoved that feeling away and turned to hand her a glass.
“To us, to new jobs and new careers and to Vegas, the cutest dog in the history of the world,” I said.
“Agreed,” she said, and we tapped our glasses together before sipping.
“Do you have more followers now that you started posting Vegas pictures? Because I do,” I said, holding up my phone. My social following had been steadily climbing and I’d been getting more and more comments. Not that I cared about that because I didn’t post that much, but it was still nice to see that other people thought my dog was as cute as I knew he was.
“Yeah, and I haven’t touched the group chat because everyone has just been begging for more pictures. I think Lara is mad.” I set my glass down and pulled out one of the stools to lean on.
“Oh, she’s definitely mad. I’m going to be glad when this wedding is over. What are we going to do with Vegas during the bachelorette party, part two?” I had never had to plan my life so much. Neither of us liked to leave him alone for too long, since it seemed mean.
“We can hire someone to look in on him. I actually have a friend at school whose parents are vets and she grew up training show dogs.” Her phone dinged with a notification that our expensive pasta was on the way.
“Seriously? What kind of dogs?”
“All kinds, I think. She was even at Westminster a few times.” Well, she certainly sounded qualified to watch our baby, but I also asked for her social handles just so I could do my own little background check. I was still working on that when the pasta got there.
“Now remember, we can’t let him have any. It would make him sick,” Emma said, as if I was going to secretly pass Vegas bits of pasta from my plate.
