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Pam starts laughing as Steve’s body starts to shake. “Did you walk him this morning?”
“Oh, no, Steve!” He takes a dump right at the edge of my solid wooden desk, and then proceeds to yap and howl around my feet, like he’s trying to get some fucking kind of congratulations.
“Steve?” Pam questions.
“Yes, Steve,” I confirm dismissively. “Though I might change it to Lucifer.”
“No wonder he’s being rebellious. Do you have any poop bags?”
I look up at Pam tiredly. “Do I look like the kind of man that carries poop bags?”
My assistant sighs in dismay and leaves my office, returning a few moments later with a plastic bag and some disinfectant spray. “Luke, I really don’t think it’s a good idea to bring Steve to work.”
“Then I’ll leave him at home.”
“All day? Don’t be stupid. You need a doggy day care.” She makes a great job of cleaning up Steve’s mess while I sift through my emails, holding my nose.
“I’ll find one today,” I assure her, putting that at the top of my priority list of things to do. “Now, tell me what my day’s looking like.”
“You have a conference call with the legal team in five minutes and a few one-to-ones this afternoon.” Pam leaves the office, shutting the door behind her, and I begin dialing in on my call.
“Luke,” I announce when prompted, listening to the chorus of hellos from various members of my legal department. We go through the pleasantries, everyone telling each other how great their weekend was, and as soon as they’re done, I grab the tennis ball off my desk and stand, starting to wander around my office as I toss the ball up and catch it. “Where are we at on the renewal of the police interception contract?” I ask.
“Nearly there,” Graham, head of legal, says. “A few i’s to dot, yada yada, but all in all a smooth negotiation.”
“Good. Did we get the . . . shit!” I blurt, tripping over something around my feet. I stagger a few paces, hearing a yelp, and look down to see Steve licking his front paw. “Crap, I’m sorry, mate.” I drop my ball to the floor and reach down to rub his head.
“Luke, everything okay?” Lily, Graham’s assistant, asks.
“Yeah, sorry.” I make to retrieve my ball, but Steve swoops in and steals it, running across my office and dropping it by the window. He hunkers down on his front legs, his arse in the air, his tail wagging. Then he starts relentlessly yapping.
“Is that a dog?” Graham asks, though I can barely hear him over the noise Steve is making.
“Shhhh,” I hiss, marching over to get my ball. Steve nearly takes my fingers off as I swoop to collect it, running to the other side of the office and dropping it again, before proceeding to bark his little head off. “For fuck’s sake. Excuse me a minute, guys.” I mute the call and stride over to my office door, swinging it open aggressively. “Pam!”
She looks up from her desk, holding back a grin. “Yes, boss?”
Steve pelts past my feet with my ball in his mouth, straight over to Pam’s desk. “Watch Steve a minute,” I say, quickly closing my door before she can refuse. I unmute the call and get on with the meeting.
Half an hour later, I’m done, though I don’t go to save Pam. Instead, I get comfy at my desk and answer a pile of emails, before preparing for my one-to-ones this afternoon. Not once, but twice, I start drafting an email to Lo, just a friendly Hello, how was your weekend? kind of thing, but I delete my words both times, almost too afraid to ask. I’m desperate to tell her about Steve. But I want to see her face, see her light up with joy, as I know she will. So . . . how do I achieve that?
I ponder it for a few hours, determined to find a way to see her, and at noon, I brave venturing out of my office, knowing I’m going to get a stern reception from my assistant, but when I open my office door, I can’t see Pam. Nor Steve, for that matter. Because half my company’s employees are huddled around her desk making stupid baby noises. I roll my eyes and fight my way through the crowd until I find Steve in Pam’s lap soaking up the attention he doesn’t deserve.
“Oh, here’s Daddy.” Pam grins and passes Steve to me, his head a sea of hands fussing over him. “He’s been a good boy, haven’t you, Steve?”
I scoff and screw up my face when he attacks me with his tongue, licking and smothering me.
“He’s so cute.”
“Oh my God, I want one.”
“I’ll walk him at lunchtimes.”
“Can I bring my dog into work?”
I ignore them all and make my way to the office café to get myself a coffee, hearing continued cooing in our wake. “You’re a fraud,” I tell Steve. “A total fraud.” We enter the café to find Peter, one of my account managers, pouring a coffee.
